Hello again my lovely readers! First off, I'm very sorry for not updating in so long. Second, thank you all very much for reviewing, favoriting, or even reading my story. It makes me smile!
Happy reading!
My heart stops.
Hysteria crawls it's way through my body, pumping through my veins until I can't take it.
I start running. To where? I don't know. The woods. But then I remember the electric fence, turn on heel, and run another direction.
I run until I can't anymore, when my legs give out and I can't breathe. I fall to my knees in the grass and let the tears stream down my face. Back into the arena. Back into the place of nightmares.
My fingers clutch my middle as I sob. I can't go back. They can't do this. I've spent nearly a year piecing my life together just to watch it crumble in an instant.
Peeta. I need to find Peeta. I force myself to stand. To wipe my tears from my face. Because if anyone deserves to get out of there alive, it's him. Even if that guarentees my death.
I make myself think. I'm on the side of the road that lies between Victor's Village and the Square. Surely Peeta is at our house, looking for me. My pace quickens and I make it back to my house and push open the door.
I was right. Peeta is here. He leaps to his feet from the couch and I don't hesitate to fling myself in his arms. His arms circle my back and hold me tightly to him. I bury my face in his neck.
"Katniss." He whispers. "I love you so much. We'll figure this out. I promise." I only sob. I can't go back. I can't leave my family. I can't leave Peeta.
My mother and Prim must realize I'm back, because suddenly Peeta gently lets me go and I'm immediately embraced by another set of arms, my mother's. She doesn't speak. She only holds me, stroking my hair. Prim wraps her arms around me from behind and leans her head against my back.
This is when I know I must be strong. No more crying. No more fear. For my family, for Peeta, and for me.
My body replaces the misery that coursed it's way around only moments ago with hatred. Pure, utter hatred. Towards the Capitol. Towards Snow.
I'm going to die. That's certain. No doubt Snow will have me killed in the arena. But I'm putting up a fight before I do. He can't take that from me. He can take away my safety. He can take away my freedom. He can even take my life. But Snow can never take my strength.
And I'm going to be strong. I can't afford to lose it, to break down anymore. From now on, as long as I shall live, I will burn on.
oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Sunlight breaks through the window and shines directly on Peeta's sleeping form. His face is so relaxed, and if you didn't know him you'd think he hasn't a care in the world.
But I know him. And I know that peace has been nonexistant in our lives for a long time now.
It's been nearly a month since the Quell was announced. Nearly a month since we began training. Our muscles show progress. Peeta and I have always been strong, but training like Careers has made us take on a new level of strength. Any bit of fat we could have spared in the last year of eating luxuriously has vanished, replaced by toned muscle.
Today, we are allowed to rest. The last week has been nonstop training, and it was decided by all of us that we need a little break. Not to mention today is my seventeeth birthday.
I smile at Peeta and lean back into the pillows, absorbing the comfort and warmth for a little while longer. I stare at the ceiling for only a matter of minutes before I feel Peeta stirring beside me. I roll over to greet him, our faces just inches apart.
"Good morning." I say softly. I brush the curls off of his forehead with my fingers as his eyes flutter open. He smiles.
"Good morning, Katniss." His eyes lock onto mine so intensely that I wonder if he's angry. But then they soften and he smiles again.
"We're off today. And it's your birthday." He says.
"Yes," I reply.
He stretches and sits up in bed, pushing the covers down to his waist. I push my self up so that I am leaning on my elbow. "What should we do today?" He asks.
"I just want to stay here with you." I say. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Okay." He grins.
The joy on his face proves he wasn't expecting that answer from me. We've been everything but affectionate lately, always demanding we run faster or throw harder. Any thought of marriage has been abandoned. And although I wouldn't be the first to admit it, I've missed our little moments together. I've missed the caresses and the kisses and the smiles.
I yawn and roll over onto my back, stretching out my sore limbs. They ache, but I ignore the pain. Today I'm forgetting that in less than a month I am going to die. Or at least pretending I'm not. Pretending that Peeta and I have normal lives. Well, as normal as it can be for a seventeen year old Hunger Games Victor and her husband.
We are clearly in no hurry to start the day. And why should we be? We have no priorities today. No training to do, no photo shoots, no interviews. After so much chaos, it's nice to have a day to ourselves in the comfort of District 12.
"What are you thinking about?" Peeta asks, his eyes locking onto mine. I move so I can sit up against the headboard, arm to arm with Peeta. "I don't really know." I reply. My thoughts are a little all over the place. Peeta laughs, which brings on a smile from me. It's been so long since I've heard him laugh.
"I've missed this." I say after a moment. I lay my head on his bare shoulder, his skin warm and soft.
"Missed what?"
"You and me. Not training, just being normal and having normal lives."
"Katniss, I think our lives have always been far from normal."
"Yeah, I know. But I was starting to get used to us being together all the time like this. Although we haven't been married for long."
"I wish we had been. Years at least, not just a month and a half. Although if I had it my way, I'd be with you forever. Like this."
"Forever?" I say. "I think you'd get sick of me."
He laughs again. "No, I'd still love you. I'd bake you cheese buns every day, and work at the bakery while you hunt. Then afterwards, when we were both home, we'd do this. Just talk and be normal and together."
"I wish that's how it was." I say. And I do. Being married to Peeta, or married at all, was never my plan. But my marriage to Peeta has opened my eyes a bit. I was so driven by the need to provide for my family and the fear of someday bringing people into my life that are going to just leave that I pushed away any human emotion. Love being the biggest one. I still don't know quite how I feel for Peeta. But I do care for him, a lot. And I know I would die for him. I will die for him.
We soak in a few more minutes like this, just quiet. Then our stomachs start growling, so we decide to head downstairs and get some breakfast.
I'm slicing an apple while Peeta makes some oatmeal. The house is quiet, which suggests that my mother and Prim are giving us some time alone. As much as I'd love to spend time with them as well, the gesture is appreciated.
We eat our breakfast in blissful silence before heading upstairs to dress. I take my time dressing, not sure what to wear. Afterwards, I let my hair out of it's braid and let it fall in long waves. Then I step out of the bathroom and walk barefoot downstairs.
Peeta's in the living room, sitting on the couch with a book. It takes me a moment to realize it's the plant book that we worked on after I hurt my ankle in the few months before our wedding.
Peeta sees me coming and gently closes the book, his eyes meeting mine. He smiles. "You look beautiful, Katniss."
"Thanks," I say. I take a seat next to him on the couch, tucking my feet behind me. I'm reminded of a time, not quite a year ago, when Peeta and I were sitting almost exactly like this during our interview with Caesar Flickerman.
It's strange that it seems like a lifetime ago. In under a year, I've been a tribute, a victor, a fiancee, a wife, and soon to be tribute again.
No. I'm not thinking about it.
"I thought we could work on it some more." Peeta says. I realize he means the book.
"Yeah, that's a good idea." I reply. He opens the book and turns to the most recent entry. Nightlock.
Peeta hands me a pencil and I write in bolded letters at the top of the page: "Deadly. Poisonous berry, do not eat."
My mind wanders to the Games, when Peeta picked the nightlock. The fear of losing him was so strong in those Games that even now it runs shivers down my spine.
Peeta seems to be remembering the same thing, because he gives me such a sad look that I want to hold him and tell him everything will be okay. In an instant, his face regains it's normal appearance and we continue working on the book.
After about an hour or so, we decide to go for a walk. I'm tempted to bring Peeta into the woods with me, maybe to the lake, but I remind myself that he has a prosthetic leg and hours of walking through sticks and brush is not the best idea. So when Peeta suggests we go to the Square, I agree. It's a short walk from here, maybe ten minutes. And I know Peeta wants to see his family.
"Katniss." Peeta says after a few minutes of walking in silence. "There's something I want to tell you." His tone is careful, measured.
"Okay." I say. My heart speeds up a little in fear of what he's going to say.
"As long as I can remember from the second I first saw you, I've wanted you to be happy. After all you've been through, you deserve that. I thought for the longest time that maybe I could give you that happiness."
"Peeta-"
"No, I need to say this." He stops walking and looks me in the eye. "I know now that I was wrong, maybe not entirely, but I'm not making you as happy as I should. And that's okay. I just want you to promise me that whatever happens in the arena, you do what you can to be happy."
My eyebrows furrow together and I shake my head slowly. "Peeta, you know that's not true. I have been happy with you, for months now. In fact, if it weren't for you I'm not sure I wouldn't be like Haymitch, wasting away my life with alcohol."
He laughs a little. "You know, the similarities between the two of you are impossible to ignore."
"Yeah. Probably why he hates me so much." I say, rolling my eyes.
"I don't understand it." He says, shaking his head.
"Don't understand what?"
"Why you still can't see it. The effect you have on people." He stops to pluck a wildflower from the dirt. He twirls it slowly, inspecting it, before he hands it to me with a smile. "For you."
I accept the little gift and smile back. "Thanks." We continue on a little farther, passing the bakery. "You don't want to go to the bakery?" I ask him. I figured that was the whole purpose of us coming here.
"No, I can see them later. I want to spend today with you. Just you."
I smile. "So where are we going then?"
"I thought maybe we could go to your house." He says, waiting for my answer. My house?
"What do you mean? We woke up there this morning."
"I mean your old house. The one in the Seam."
"Oh." I pause. "Okay."
"We don't have to if you don't want -"
"No, it's okay. Actually, I'd like to show you."
We take the dirt road to the Seam, which I haven't been to in some time now. Not since I last visited Gale's family. It's a long walk, but we do it in silence. Me, lost in thought. Peeta, wrapping his mind around the place around him. The Seam is somewhere he has barely seen, if he's seen it at all. Judging by the look on his face, he seems upset. At what, though, I'm not sure. Is it the run down houses? The little children, so frail and thin that their close hang off of them like bed sheets?
Truthfully, seeing it now that I'm a pampered little Victor makes me feel awful. Although it wasn't long ago that I was in the same position.
A woman I do not know sits on her porch, watching her two young children play in the mud. By her protruding belly, I know that she's pregnant. But the way her bones jut out, barely covered by a thin layer of skin, I also know that it's been a while since they've eaten.
I wish I had brought money, but I know that even if I did, she wouldn't accept it. Most Seam people aren't takers. No matter how poverty stricken and sick they are, they will not take handouts.
We keep on walking. Peeta remains silent, but laces his fingers through mine until we make it to my house. The door creaks loudly when I push it open, and despite the fact it's been abandoned for nearly a year it's still recognizable.
"Come on," I say to Peeta. He takes a careful step into the small house, which doesn't even begin to compare to our house in Victor's Village. This entire home is barely twice the size of our bedroom now.
I trail my fingers along the table that sits at the edge of the main room. "This is where my father would sit while we ate." I look at his chair, which hasn't been sat in since his death. "We rarely ate as a family though, the mines didn't let him out until well after dinner most nights." Peeta's still quiet so I keep going.
"Over here is where the sofa used to be. Sometimes I'd fall asleep here when my mother let me stay up waiting for him to come home." I smile at the memory. "And he'd open the door and my mother would always greet him with a kiss. Which at the time I thought was disgusting, partially due to the fact he was covered in coal dust.
"They loved each other. More than anybody else I ever knew. So when he died, my mother stopped caring about anything. It was gradual, but eventually she just shut down. Unresponsive, always asleep in bed. For a long time, I hated her. I've mostly forgiven her now, but I still remember how miserable it was. How hungry I was. How sick my little sister was. And how hopeless I felt. She tries now, though. And I doubt I'll ever have to watch my family slowly starving to death again."
"I'm sorry." Peeta says quietly. His eyes are glassy. I feel guilty, maybe I shouldn't have told him this. Not yet. He finally moves from his place at the doorstep and crosses the room to me. "I would have taken a million beatings if it meant you had food. I wish I had known. Really known. Merchant kids don't have a clue what it's really like over here."
"Peeta, its not your fault. You have to know that."
"That doesn't mean I can't feel angry at it all."
For just a moment, there is nothing but silence. Then I say, "I swore I'd never fall in love after my dad died. I didn't want to turn into her." I give a half-hearted laugh. "And that's why I can't lose you." I'm suddenly reminded of Quell in just a month. Maybe in some way, dying so that Peeta can live is a selfish move on my part. Because I really can't bear to be without him. Better to be dead that live without Peeta Mellark.
Somehow we're kissing before I can process what's happening. My fingers clutch the front of his shirt, balling the fabric up in my fists. He holds his hands firmly on the small of my back, pressing me against him. This kiss is different than any other before it. Desperate, frantic, sad, and wonderful all at once.
I pull away first, but not too far because Peeta's holding me so that we're nose to nose. I unclench my fists and move my arms to around his neck before kissing him again, just softly. He presses his forehead to mine gently. "No more sad conversations. Today is just for us, and we're going to be happy."
Since I don't want to spend my day angry and upset, I agree.
We take our time getting back home, although it's late afternoon. We wind through town, and I pretend not to notice the Hob. Or the remainder of it, really. Since it's been reduced to a pile of coal dust and ash.
When we pass by the sweets shop, Peeta insists we go in. There, he buys me a chocolate flower for my birthday. We snack on it on the way back, picking off creamy chocolate petals and letting them melt on our tongues.
Peeta makes a joke about chocolate and pigs, but I suddenly can't concentrate. My eyes widen when I see the camera. Just a small lense, in a tree. Hard to see, but not impossible. Why is there a camera? We're a good two miles from the Square now. Close to Victor's Village. Is Snow watching us?
"What?" Peeta asks when he sees my puzzled expression. I wash my face of any emotion I'm feeling and replace it with laughter. "Nothing, it just took a second to get your joke is all." I reply, in a much faker tone than necessary. Peeta knows something is wrong, but must understand that we cannot speak here.
Knowing the house is probably bugged too, he doesn't mention it until we're in bed, our faces just inches apart. In a voice below a whisper, I explain. Peeta is angry, of course, but part of me is relieved. There is no way Snow isn't convinced that the "romance" between Peeta and I is at least partially real. And if I've convinced him, surely the Capitol is convinced completely. Somehow I know killing off the star crossed lovers won't be in the favor of the Capitol, at least not so soon after we've won.
And that fact sparks an idea.