Hey guys! Thanks again for reviewing, liking and making this a favorite fan fic! You guys are so awesome! All credits for THG belong to the one and only Suzanne Collins.


Chapter 9

I'm acting like an idiot, I'm well aware of it, but I can't stop. I do know why she is annoying me, but what right do I have to feel annoyed by her presence? None.

I switch to plan B. what is the nearest room that has a door that I can lock?

The studio is the only place I can think of and I can reach it fast enough to avoid the rain of questions approaching for sure. I launch myself up the stairs.

As soon as I close the door and turn on the lights, the paintings greet me, they cover the walls, the floors, they are piled one on top of the other; I can see some simple landscapes, others more complicated are scenes of things we have lived. There is a pile covered with a sheet, bright shiny colors on the edge, probably a flash, I'm going for a closer look, when I hear the soft knock on the door and his worried voice

"Katniss Can I come in?"

It's going to be impossible to avoid him for the next two days considering we can't get out of the house. So I unlock the door; He comes in looking cautiously at me, but I know he will not ask a single question and I'm grateful for it; Peeta never had it in him to force things out, he actually had such a sweet disposition that Haymitch had used him to save me, twice, and I had kept up the charade to save my loved ones.

Hadn't Snow been on the way, would I have chose Peeta? I had been well aware of his wonderings within the school, our common social circle and during the games I learned how perfectly well my body seemed to fit his whenever he would hug me and how safe I felt holding his hand.

I had no right to be mad about Delly, he probably was better off with her, but I kept holding a string of hope that maybe the boy with the bread could return to me, otherwise why would I have so desperately explained to him my last meeting with Gale. I had to make him see, I didn't choose Gale over him; I hadn't chosen anyone at all, except for Prim.

I was annoyed and there was no point in denying it, all I could do now was come up with an explanation for my outburst. I try to go around the subject, not lying exactly; it was more like telling him half the truth.

I made it look like I was mad at Delly for not telling him I had stopped by the bakery the morning after I had returned home half dragged by a drunken Haymitch.

"I went looking for you after Haymitch's white liquor was out of my system. She said you were busy and offered to tell you I had stopped by to talk to you, but you didn't came or called, if I hadn't found you in my kitchen the morning after, we probably wouldn't be working on the book or talking at all"

"Is that all? She not giving me a message?

"Yes" I say, not looking at him while thinking NO, that's not it, its also about the way she looks at you, the way she talks to you, that people sees her with you all the time. Sweet Delly that looks just like you; thinking about her, I can test the vinegar in my mouth

He is pondering my words and frowning. It was so weird to see him frown so often nowadays, Peeta was always in a merry mood, smiling and joking easily with people around him. I had the effect of make him frown.

"I know it was stupid of me to make such a big deal of it, I just wanted to get working on the book right away and I had so much to talk to you about. It upset me to think we wouldn't be working on any of this if I hadn't found you in the kitchen the morning after!"

"I don't think she meant to do any harm. I was quite upset when I got to the bakery that morning and may be she thought it was better to give me some time to calm down before I talked to you. She has known me forever; I think she may be the last person alive that knew me before the Hunger Games"

I knew that wasn't an overstatement, most people that had lived over the merchants side of the district had died the day of the bombing.

I sigh in defeat, if I push the subject any further the only outcome I can see is catastrophe, especially considering how sensitive I feel and how decidedly his making excuses for her.

I take a quick look around and pick the painting closest to me.

"How many paintings do you have in the room? It´s so crowded in here.

"I don't know, I paint almost every day and when I'm running out of space I put some away in the basement or the cellar"

He goes around the room showing me a few, the meadow in summer, the victor's tour banquet in district twelve; me in a blue dress that Cinna made it for the victor's tour in district four.

There's an easel holding a single painting that seems to command everything else inside the room, the warmth in the colors and the familiar scene seem to be calling for me and when I get to it, I can't help the wave of feelings drowning my mind.

It was us, on the roof of the training center, the one day Peeta asked to live in forever. I have my head on his lap, decorated with a crown of flowers, playing with some vines making knots.

I see two more behind the easel on the floor, me laughing as an apple falls from my grasp and both of us contemplating the sunset.

"When did you make this?" I stretch my fingers wanting to feel the warmth of the scene again on my skin.

"It was the first memory Dr. Aurelius helped me clear completely"

Horror, sadness, pain, all the emotions run through my heart at the same time; Snow had tampered his memories to break him and hurt me.

"What was the new memory like? What did they make you see? "

I can feel the tension in his voice, the worry that he might be scaring me with what his saying. He can't look at me as he speaks, only holds his hands with so much force, his knuckles turn white, by the time his finished explaining what the memory was like, his hands are hanging limp to the sides of his body. I slide my hand in to his, letting him know I'm there for him; that I'm not afraid.

We are broken and hurt; we could hardly be considered mentally stable on our own, but we had survived, together we had done it, and I intended to be there for Peeta, with or without a Delly on the way.

"Dr. Aurelius said I had been holding to the memory subconsciously and they broke it in to so many different scenarios. It took me days before I could piece it back, after that, I hanged to it whenever I felt an attack, but the new scenarios kept popping up and it was hard to tell apart the tampered memory from the real one, so I painted the real one, to remember"

"Why did you hold on to this memory?"

"It was the last time I could remember being happy. It was the day I would have lived in forever, remember? If I was going to die, that was the place I wanted to go to, to that day."

His voice is no more than a whisper at the end.

I can't stand in the studio anymore, so I pull his hand and lead us out of the room, with the lights off and the moonlight hitting the paintings, it looks like a graveyard.

I close the door behind us.

I wasn't going to leave Peeta; Capitol took him once and what came back was a broken body with no mind of his own, this boy who's hand I was holding, was the closest thing to the Peeta I lost in the beach and I was determined to protect him.

We are not really hungry, so a cup of tea suffices us both.

I can feel my body heavy as lead; I want to sleep, but I'm afraid that after all that we talked today my nightmares will come, stronger and more vivid than ever.

Peeta offers me his room and says he'll take the couch, but I lie to him and tell him I'm not tired.

"I'll stay writing down for the book, you can go to sleep"

He's too tired to argue, so he goes up the stairs, leaving me with a couple blankets and some more tea.

I feel I'm floating, moving slowly, enveloped in a warm mist that smells like home. I can't see where I'm going but I feel safe. I hold on to the feeling, it makes me happy, like being in the woods on a summer day with my father.

I open my eyes, blinking a few times as I adjust slowly to the light in the room. I'm not in the living room or on the couch; I'm in a bed with an arm filled with scars serving me as pillow. I know this is not a nightmare; my heart is beating so fast, it can't be a nightmare. I turn around and find myself looking at a still asleep Peeta Mellark.

I snuggle closer to him, and his arms hold me more tightly, feeling I want to be close even in his sleep.

I'll think of the consequences later, right now all I want, all my body craves is the closeness of him and I'm tired of refusing myself a ray of happiness. So, there will be plenty of time to sort my feelings, right now, I'm hoping the moment to last forever.

A cold breeze makes me look for the warm body next to mine, but there is none.

I seat at once scanning the room for him, but he isn't there.

My heart is racing, last time; I had found him in the kitchen while he had an attack.

I go down the stairs two at a time, but the smell of fresh bread receives me when I reach the bottom, so I slow down.

I walk in to the kitchen with a much more composed look. He is there with his white apron, hands covered in flour and with a white spot on his right cheek; cheese and cinnamon buns are already sitting on a dish over the table.

"Morning Katniss."

"Why didn't you wake me?" the words are muffled by the bun I'm eating already.

"Well, I came down cause I couldn't sleep and saw you totally out on the couch but the room was already cold, so, instead of making a racket to light back the fire, I moved you up the stairs. Besides, it's not the first time we share a bed, so I didn't thought you would mind."

"I don't, is just I don't want you tiring yourself more than necessary" I take him by the shoulders and force him to seat.

It's the first time we sat down to eat that we talk; not about the mundane stuff or things that are not important to us, today we talk about our memories, some small flashes Peeta had when early in the morning, like us waking up together in the train all the time.

I confess at once

"My nightmares were more bearable when you were by mi side"

He takes a mental note and we move on; we keep it simple and start talking about people we knew from school. The subject is somehow depressing, considering a vast majority is gone, but we manage to establish a common ground.

Neither of us is really interested in going to look out if the storm is dying out or not, we are too busy with our conversation and too comfortable with each other to care if there is a ten feet tall wall or just a thin blanket of powdery snow. We'll have time for the real world and what goes on in it later; for now, we are just enjoying the quiet isolation the storm gifted us with.


Please review! All suggestions are super welcomed and PLEASE let me know if you would like to get a Peeta POV at some point. See you all on chapter 10! Yayyy! :)