I wrote this on my phone and it therefore can't be checked as well as my other chapters - I appoligise for any typos or grammar mistakes!
"Peeta!" I cry.
His body lies on the floor, completely unmoving. There is no rise or fall to his chest or flutter of eyelids: he definitely isn't asleep. A pool of sticky red liquid surrounds him, matting his curls together. His right arm is bent at an unnatural angle.
I throw myself to the floor beside him.
"Peeta," I say again. "Peeta, talk to me. Say something."
I get no response.
Looking around frantically, I try to remember the steps you're meant to take when you find someone unconscious.
Step 1: Danger. Can you see any threat that could put your own life at risk?
"To hell with that," I think. "This is Peeta."
Step 2: Breathing. Do they have a pulse?
I reach down and press my ear to his chest. Complete silence.
I can feel my own heart beating faster and faster with each passing second. Tilting his head to the side, I search for any sign of life on the base of his neck. After a few seconds, I feel a very faint throb of his weakening pulse.
"Peeta," I whisper. "Thank god you're still alive."
I take hold of his icy hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Grabbing my phone from the floor beside me, I dial 911.
I didn't realise I was crying until I pressed my phone to my face. My shaking fingers came away wet.
"Come on, come on, come on." I chant as I wait for an operator to pick up the phone.
"Emergency services," A voice says. "What seems to be the problem?"
"My boyfriend has collapsed. There's a lot of blood but I can't actually see a wound."
"Is he breathing, Madam?"
"If he is, it's not very well. His pulse is really faint."
"I will send ambulances immediately," He says. "Do you know where you are?"
"I don't know the exact address." I start, before giving directions to Peeta's house. "The driveway goes on for about half a mile and the door is unlocked."
"Do you know if he has any medical conditions we should be aware of?"
"Not that could cause him to collapse."
"But he does have some form of medical history?"
"He lost his leg in a car accident about a year ago."
"Okay. Please stay with the patient, help should be about 15 minutes."
"15 minutes?!" I almost shout. "Surely you can get here quicker than that!"
"We will do our best. If his condition should decline, or he stops breathing, please call back."
I don't bother replying; I just hang up the phone and chuck it to the floor in frustration.
I shuffle myself closer to Peeta. Grabbing his hand tighter, I use my free hand to brush his hair off his face.
"You'll be okay." I tell him, though I'm not sure who I am trying to convince: him or me.
I begin to cry even harder as I cling to his unconscious body. Repeatedly stroking his hair, I pause to check his pulse every few seconds. The more minutes that pass, the more aware I become of his blood coating my bare legs. I'm just about to lose all hope when the front door gets thrown open and teams of people stream through the door.
"We're in here!" I shout, wiping my face with the back of my blood soaked hand.
"Please can you step away from the body?" A young woman asks.
"I'm not leaving him!" I almost shout.
"I know," she says gently. "And I'm not asking you to. My colleagues just need some space to check him over."
I just nod and slowly rise to my feet. My whole body shakes and the young woman has to completely guide me away from the scene.
"My name is Helen. How do you know the patient?"
"He's my boyfriend, his name is Peeta Mellark."
"And I'll need to inform the hospital of your name, or they won't let you in to see him."
"Katniss Everdeen."
"Everdeen? Does one of your family members work at the hospital?"
"That doesn't matter," I say shortly, not taking my eyes from Peeta. "What's going to happen to him?"
"They're just checking him for physical damage and then they'll get him to the hospital. Once there, they will try to identify why he collapsed and if he has sustained any further damage."
"Damage?" I ask quietly.
"It's too soon to say. I'm sure they'll debrief you on the way to the hospital."
"Will he be okay?"
"I'm sure he'll be fine."
"Helen, you're needed." A man with a deep voice says.
"Why don't you go and calm down the dogs upstairs, wipe off the blood and I'll see you in the ambulance, okay?"
After a few seconds, I do as she says. I walk up Peeta's staircase, trying hard not to get any blood anywhere, as if in a dream. This can't be real. This can't be real.
After several attempts, I find a family bathroom. I catch sight of myself in one of the mirrors. My face is bleach white and the only part of my entire being that isn't covered in blood. Red coats my clothes, my legs; it's even caked under my fingernails. I run the tap in the sink and splash my legs until they're somewhat clean, not even bothering to remove my shoes.
Content that I'm no longer completely covered in his blood, I head towards his bedroom.
The howling from the dogs is almost unbearable.
The second I push open the door all three of them jump up at me. Despite my rush to get back downstairs, I make sure to check each one has calmed down almost completely. I walk past them and open the door that leads to the roof, propping it open with a few books.
It might not be the most secure option to leave Peeta's house like this, but it means that Oscar, Cody and Max can all get to the toilet without being shut outside.
Letting them run around upstairs, I quickly grab a grey t-shirt from Peeta's draw and exit, rushing back to the ground floor. I reach the bottom just as they're wheeling Peeta out on a plastic gurney.
His shirt has been cut open, a large mask covering his mouth. His fingertips are slightly blue and his leg has been removed.
"Peeta." I gasp breathlessly.
"Are you ready to go Katniss?" Helen asks me.
I quickly check that I have both mine and Peeta's phone in my pocket before nodding.
I follow their quick footsteps, trying to understand the language they pass between them. Once they've loaded Peeta into the back of the vehicle, Helen holds out a hand to help me up. Not sure if I'd make it on my own, I take it.
I strap myself into one of the seats silently and watch as his lifeless body gets hooked up to thousands of tubes. I can see his chest moving up and down, powered by an industrial machine. After a while I put my head on my knees, unable to watch the constant procedures. A strong hand settles on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. Even without looking up, I know it belongs to Helen.
"He will be fine."
I don't respond though, I only close my eyes and wait for the journey to end.
It seems to last a lifetime.
I walk around the corridors of the hospital, a cup of steaming coffee in my hands. I don't drink it, but the constant warmth makes me feel a little better.
Or at least I tell myself.
I changed into Peeta's shirt in the toilets, not wanting to have to look at his blood any longer. It looks like I wear nothing on my lower half so I have to keep rolling up the front. Still, it gives me something to do.
Once we arrived at the hospital, Peeta was taken away to have CT scans, CAT scans and MRI scans. Blood samples were taken, tissue samples taken.
The blood came from a wound to his shoulder, possibly from where he fell. Something still doesn't feel right…
The image of Peeta warning me about the Capitol haunts me – he said they always get revenge. Has he been punished for telling me? I try to bite back the theory, but it remains in my mind like the lyrics to an annoying song.
The corridors smell heavily of antiseptic which threatens to choke me with each breath. I hold the coffee in front of my nose: it reminds me of my first (sort of) date with Peeta.
I push open the door to Peeta's room and settle into the blue plastic chair.
He's been out for hours.
His skin is the colour of ash and somehow he looks almost smaller, disappearing into the halo of pillows. I wiped him free of his own blood a few hours ago with a warm wash cloth, but I can still see the ghost of it behind my eyelids.
Every time I blink I see him lying on his kitchen floor: not moving, not breathing, and not really living.
"He's still not awake Katniss, I'm sorry." A nurse tells me.
I take hold of Peeta's cold hand.
"How long do you think it'll be before he wakes up?"
"It could be any minute, any day. There's really no saying…" She says sadly. "Some people talk to them; science has suggested that they can hear everything you say."
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Isn't anything worth a try?" She shrugs.
"I'll give you some time alone. I imagine Doctors have been in and out every other minute… He's the talk of the staff room you know. We're all trying to figure out what caused it. Anyway, if anything changes hit the red button behind the bed."
I nod and wait until she leaves the room. I pull the chair closer to his bed and rest my elbows on the edge of the mattress.
"Hey you." I whisper, pushing the hair away from his eyes.
I clasp both of my hands around his left one, massaging some warmth into them. The constant beep of the heart monitor is reassuring, reminding me that he's still alive but lost in his own body.
"I'd really like it if you'd wake up soon Peeta. I don't like seeing you like this…
"I'm sorry about this morning, I was being silly. If anything, today has made me realise how much I care about you."
Breathing deeply, I run my fingers up and down his forearm.
"I can't believe you've already gotten under my skin, you big idiot." I try to laugh.
I put my head on the edge of the mattress and sigh heavily. Feeling the now familiar threat of tears welling behind my eyes, I attempt to blink them away. To no avail – they fall silently down my burning face…
"Please wake up Peeta, please…
"I know that you think I don't want a relationship with you, but I do! I was just scared that I'd end up getting hurt. I had no idea that this would happen..."
My voice cracks and wracked sobs start stealing the oxygen from my lungs.
"Please don't leave, please don't hate me. I'm sorry..."
It reaches the point where I can't talk anymore, let alone breathe. Sobbing half into his hand and half onto the bed, I hiccup and continue to mumble inaudibly. I seem to repeat the process for hours on end, letting the clock on the wall tick down my internal bomb.
"I've lost too many people, I can't lose you too. Please Peeta, I need you…"
After a while, I feel a strange sensation on the top of my head, like something is moving my hair. I put it down to the newly activated air conditioner and decide to ignore it.
"Hey Kitty Kat." A sleepy voice says.
I freeze though the action continues. I'm almost too scared to look up in case I imagined it. Though when I do, I'm greeted with a pair of bright blue eyes.
"Peeta!" I cry.
Without thinking, I throw my arms around him. He shifts slightly beneath me, though any pain I may have caused goes unmentioned.
I continue to sob into the crook of his neck, unable to control myself. He holds my shaking body very tightly in his arms.
"Shhhhhhh." He whispers in my ear. "Shh Katniss. It's okay. Everything's okay."
I shake my head against him pathetically.
"I thought I lost you." I cry.
Peeta gently pulls me away from his chest and wipes the pad of his thumb under my puffy eyes.
"Not today." He says quietly.
I smile slightly through the tears and he grins back at me. The colour is slowly coming back to his face, though he remains far from healthy looking. His lips are still blue at the edges.
Shaking my head slightly, I come to my senses.
"I should go and tell someone you're awake." I say, standing up and wiping my face with the back of my hands.
Peeta opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by a small group of doctors walking through the door, their stethoscopes already in hand. They swarm around his bed and I take a few steps backwards. I earn a sad smile before he practically vanishes from sight.
I stand in the corner and silently scold myself for letting my emotions get the better of me. Peeta probably needs someone to be strong around him and instead, he ended up comforting me. I pick at my fingernails and try to mute the list of injuries the doctor's recount.
Dislocated, fractured right shoulder; a deep wound that needed stitches.
Head trauma.
Semi-heart failure.
Bruising to ribs.
Potential organ failure.
The list seems to go on forever...
I don't know how long the doctors stay but by the time they have finished hissing their medical language, I've managed to count all the tiles on the ceiling, floor, and windowpane. Once they've left I stay in the corner for a few seconds, unsure of what to say or where to stand.
Peeta looks and me, his head tilted to the side.
"Are you wearing one of my t-shirts?"
"Um, yeah. I hope you don't mind, mine was covered in blood…"
"It suits you." He smiles. "So you were the one who found me, eh?"
"Look Peeta," I say, walking back to his side and ignoring his question. "About this morning…"
He tries to push himself up into a sitting position with his good arm, but struggles through the tubes that dangle from his limbs. I walk around the bed slowly and remove the white remote that controls the mattress angle from the wall.
Passing it over to him, he relaxes back and programs it more to his liking.
"Thanks." He says quietly.
"It's okay." I reply.
I shuffle on my feet, not knowing where to put myself. Peeta watches me for a few seconds before scooting over to the edge of the bed.
"Peeta, what are you do-"
"-Here, now you can actually sit."
"You should be lying down, not making space for me. I'm okay standing or sitting on the chair."
"Well I'm not okay with that. I know how uncomfortable those chairs are."
"I'm not too bothered about the comfort."
"Will you stop being so stubborn and sit down?" He asks. "Please."
"Okay." I resign, perching myself on the end. "How are you feeling?"
"I've felt worse." He tries to shrug and winces. "But I've been better."
"Do you have any idea what happened?"
He reaches up and strokes my cheek.
"Let's not talk about that right now, okay?"
"Okay." I smile. "One more thing though…"
"What's that?" He asks, settling his hand back on his stomach.
I lean over him and support my weight next to his far side. Stroking his face, I dip my head down and gently brush my lips against his.
"Hi." I breathe against him.
"Hi." He smiles, catching my lips in another quick kiss.
I lean back slightly.
"About this morning…" I repeat. "I was being really stupid. Of course I want to be with you! I just managed to scare myself-"
He cuts me off with another kiss. I feel him wince slightly at the action of sitting forward on his own, though he tries to hide it by inching closer to me on the mattress. I gently push him back to lie into the pillows.
"You should just tell me if you want to kiss me," I laugh. "It's easier for me to lean down then it is for you to sit up."
He rolls his eyes at me.
"Kissing you is worth the pain of moving."
Now it's my turn to roll my eyes.
"Well then, you're stupid."
"Look," He goes. "This morning was partially my fault too. We haven't been dating that long, I shouldn't have dropped that on you so soon."
"Well I shouldn't have stormed out on you like that, it was unfair." I sigh. "I mean, you told me this really special thing and I ran away from you."
"The more important thing is that you came back."
"I shouldn't have left in the first place."
"You could have handled it better, as it's not like I intended to have you running for the hills." He tries to joke. "But we're both new at this. And you were the one who found me: if this morning hadn't of happened, I might not be here."
"Don't say that Peeta."
"Well it's true." He shrugs.
"Can we just forget it ever happened and go back to how we were?"
His eyes search mine for a moment, before nodding.
"Forget what ever happened?" He smiles.
I smile brightly back at him. Reaching down, I touch my lips to his and brush my tongue against them. Peeta opens his mouth slightly and I deepen the kiss. I lean slightly further forward and his arms wrap tightly around my waist.
"I'm not hurting you, am I?" I voice, my damp hair falling around us like a thick curtain.
"Not even a little bit." He breathes.
"Good."
He pulls me closer so I'm lying almost flush against his chest. Giggling silently, I close the space between our faces and kiss him deeply again. We stay like that for a while, talking in hushed voices and exploring each other's mouths.
I only pull away from him completely when a nurse enters the room.
"Mr Mellark?" She says.
I find myself missing the closeness of our bodies and the small sigh that escapes Peeta's lips shows he feels the same. He settles for just holding my hand.
"Yes?"
"The police are here to talk to you. Am I okay to send them through?"
"Can you give us just 5 more minutes?"
The young nurse seems to smile knowingly but agrees.
"Why do we need 5 more minutes?" I laugh. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
"Katniss," He whispers with something like urgency in his tone. "Do you remember what I told you outside of the diner?"
He strokes my face slowly and I nod against his hand.
"I don't want you to be caught up in this, okay?"
"I'm your girlfriend. I'm probably already caught up in it."
"Then I want to minimise the damage done to you."
I scowl at him, drawing my hand away from his.
"Can you do me a favour?" He then asks slowly.
"I'm not going home Peeta, I want to stay with you." I reply, matter-of-factly.
"I'm not asking you to go home."
He draws patterns on the back of my neck and I twist my head into his hand automatically. He smiles.
"Then it depends on what it is…"
"If I talk to the police now, can you go back to my house and pick up some things? I really hate not being in own clothes and the dogs will need feeding-"
"-But you just said you weren't sending me home."
"I'm actually hoping you'll come back here afterwards. Unless you want to go home, that is." He recovers. "I'll be okay, it's not like I'm going anywhere. And this way: I can talk to the police without the risk of anything retaliating on you; you can get some things from my house, so we don't have to rely on any hospital junk; and then when you come back I will tell you everything."
"Everything?"
He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
"I won't hide anything that's been said, I promise. It's for the best Katniss, okay?"
"I have one condition."
"Okay, let's hear it."
"You're not allowed to send me home later on. I get to come and go on my own terms."
"Are you asking to spend the night?" Peeta teases, bringing my hand up to his lips.
I laugh despite myself.
"It's not like I'm really asking for permission here."
"Go on," He tells me. "You should go now."
"Is there anything specific that you want from your house, or are you simply using it as an excuse to get rid of me?"
He laughs.
"Some clothes really, and a sketch pad. You'll find them all in my room; you might have to look around a few draws though."
"I feel like I would be violating your privacy doing that…"
"Why? I have nothing to hide."
"Sure, that's what you say now." I joke. "By the way, I left the roof door open slightly for the dogs. I didn't know what else to do."
"That's fine. Just let them have free reign of the house and access to the roof."
"Okay. I'll be back soon." I tell him.
I lean down and gently kiss his lips.
"You know I'd ask you to stay if I could."
I try to smile.
"I know. It's probably easier this way anyway.
"Thank you, Katniss."
I sigh "Anytime."
I ruffle his curls and walk out the door.
The walk to Peeta's house is a long one. I debate getting a cab, though I only have enough cash for one trip. In the end, Peeta was unconscious for just over 7 hours: it felt like days. As I walk down the streets I let myself think about how I feel.
The knot in my stomach has melted away completely. All I feel now is the yearning to be by his side, making sure he doesn't collapse again.
"He's with well-trained doctors, Katniss." I think to myself. "Besides, do you really want to hear the police talk about what happened?"
I shake my head.
"Of course you don't. Just be thankful that he is awake and has forgiven you."
I'm about halfway to the house when I feel a vibrating in my back pocket. Taking out the source, it's Peeta's phone.
FINNICK ODAIRlights up the screen in big letters, alongside a picture of the tanned boy I learned about earlier today. I argue with myself surrounding if I should answer it or not. I do not know this person and it isn't my phone. But Peeta is in the hospital and I am his girlfriend… Surely Finnick should know?
I decide to answer on the last ring and for a moment I thought I missed it.
"Hello?" I say quietly.
"Hello?" A voice replies. "Who's this?"
"Hi, I'm Katniss."
"Oh," comments the voice. "So you're the famous Katniss?"
"Uh, yeah I guess so." I try to laugh. "Why does Peeta talk about me often?"
"Often, all the time, what's the difference?" He jokes. "Anyway, is Peeta actually around or have you just stolen his phone?"
"He can't really get to the phone right now…" I start. "He's sort of in the hospital."
"That's normally the kind of thing you start a phone call with," He tells me. "What the hell happened?"
"Um," I can feel myself getting more and more anxious as I cling to the phone. "He collapsed earlier today. I found him a few hours ago."
"Shit. Do they, at least, know why?"
"If they do, they're not telling me"
"Right okay…" He sighs. "Sorry, I know it's not your fault."
"It's okay."
"Can you get him to text me or something when he gets a chance?"
"Yeah I will."
"Well, it's nice to put a voice to the name Katniss."
"Okay, bye Finnick."
"Bye Katniss."
Replacing Peeta's phone back in my pocket, I pull out my own and dial Madge's number. She answers quickly.
"Hey, did you manage to fix whatever needed fixing?" She asks happily.
"Peeta and I are fine, I think…"
Then why are you calling?"
"Peeta collapsed."
I'm met with stone cold silence.
"What the hell did you do to him?"
"Nothing!" I protest. "I went to his house because he wasn't answering my calls, and he was on the floor barely breathing."
"Is he okay?"
"He's finally woken up but he's still in the hospital."
"So you won't be home tonight?"
"No. Can you do me a favour though?"
"Okay yeah, sure."
"Can you tell Effie that I won't be in work for a few days? I'll take them as holiday leave or something, I don't care. But I won't be working."
"Okay. Glimmer will probably love all the extra shifts." She tells me. "She's making at least $100 daily just off tips. Flaunting her breasts out and flirting with everyone, it's kind of gross. I even saw her flirt with Haymitch yesterday."
"Ew gross," I complain. "He's my uncle!"
"Effie was fuming!"
"Well with her everlasting crush on Haymitch, I can see why." I laugh. "Anyway, I'm going to pick some stuff up for Peeta. I'll text you later on with an update."
"Okay. I hope he gets better soon."
"Thanks, Madge."
We hang up simultaneously. By the time I've gotten my phone away, I'm at Peeta's front door.
It feels so wrong to be rummaging through Peeta's bedroom draws like this. Unlike searching through something kitchen cupboards, everything in here is incredibly personal.
I find a pair of grey cotton jogging bottoms and a black t-shirt in one cabinet and put them in a pile on his bed. Blushing, I add a few pairs of boxers too.
I spot a phone charger next to his bed and scoop it up. After examining the end, I'm thankful to find it'll charge both our phones. It goes on the pile too.
Inside the top drawer of his bedside dresser are several bounded sketch books. I want nothing more than to sit and flick through them, tracing the lines he once drew. But I tell myself that simply doing this is invading too much of his privacy. I select the top most one and the three pencils that lie next to it.
I'm just about to close the draw when I notice a little-stuffed teddy. I reach down and slowly pull it from its corner.
It's a grey bear with the words 'World's Best Uncle' written in blue stitching. The item is only about 3 inches tall, with a keychain ring attached to the top.
I smile inwardly as I play with it in my hands.
Coming to my senses, I put the gift back in the drawer and close it shut. I look around for anything else he may need tonight. I throw in a fresh jumper and a pair of warm socks, before walking into the small ensuite bathroom.
Smiling at the pure novelty of it, I take the blue toothbrush that sits in the pot and the tube of half-used toothpaste. Peppermint.
I spot an empty black rucksack tucked behind the door and slowly start to decant everything into it. Slinging it over my shoulder, I head downstairs.
I walk into the kitchen and cringe when I see the mess on the floor. I completely forgot to clean up the blood before we left for the hospital.
Sighing, I set to work on cleaning it up with the cloths I find under the sink. I spray some disinfectant on the floor hoping it'll cover the metallic smell that fills the air. Instead, they just merge and mingle together.
"The dogs," I think to myself. "They need feeding."
I whistle loudly and three sets of paws come bounding towards me.
"Hey guys," I coo. "Where do we keep the food, huh?"
They look at me with confused eyes.
"Talking to dogs. I've officially gone insane." I mutter.
I search every cupboard for some form of dog food. Luck of the draw, it's in the last one I check.
As they eat, I grab some fruit from the table and add it to the bag. Alongside some crisps, a few bread buns and a block of cheese. I also throw in a few bottles of water.
"Now you guys be good, okay? I'll be back soon." I call, but none of them look up from the bowl of kibble.
After doing a quick survey of the bag, I leave the house and amble back down the path.
As I head back through the hospital corridors, familiar nurses smile and wave. I find myself surprised at how friendly everyone is, especially as I haven't been the most patient visitor in the world.
Shifting the rucksack on my back, I let my feet pull me back towards Peeta's private room. The pressure on my back is similar to when he holds be tight and I internally smile.
I pause at the double doors.
Through the glass, I can see Peeta perfectly. He lies in the white metal bed, the covers pulled down to his hips. Some of the plastic tubes have been removed from his arms, replaced with wads of cotton wool.
He no longer wears the gown provided, revealing his bare chest to the world. I've never seen it before. Six well-defined abdominal muscles are etched into his stomach, finally revealing just how muscular he really is.
Thinking back, I remember how it felt to explore his chest only the night before. My stomach gives a slight twist.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts.
Realising he is quite clearly asleep, I open the door as silently as I can manage and slip through the gap.
I put myself in the blue chair beside him and slowly empty out the contents of the bag into the patient draws. The sketchbook doesn't fit.
I rest it on the end of the bed, looking around for somewhere else to store it. Before I can move, Peeta shifts in his sleep and it goes toppling to the floor with a loud clang.
The book opens, sending loose drawings everywhere.
"Shoot." I mutter as I get down to my hands and knees to retrieve all the artwork.
I pause when I see it.
On one of the sheets of heavy paper is a girl lying on a checkered blanket. Her hair falls in a thick band down to her waist, a black trilby hat beside her. She wears a sundress that ends just above her knees and a pair of high-heeled shoes. The girl seems to be smiling at the sky, one hand draped lazily over her tiny stomach.
I feel a pang of jealousy run through me, shaking all the way down to my toes.
But then I realise, it's me. That is what I wore on my first date with Peeta.
Peeta drew me.
I let the words sink in as I stare longingly at the drawing. If only I was that beautiful in real life…
I scoop up the remaining sheets of paper, trying not to look at anymore and carefully put them back in the book - though I leave the drawing of me on top.
Rising from the floor, I don't take my eyes from the paper before me. It's only when I spot Peeta stating at me do I put it down.
"Sorry," I tell him. "It fell off the bed and I was just picking it up."
"I know, it was the noise woke me. It's okay." He smiles.
"Peeta," I ask after a few seconds. "Is this me?"
His cheeks turn a shade of scarlet red when he sees what I'm holding.
"Um, yes that is you… Please don't think I'm really weird."
"Why would I think you're weird? It's amazing!"
"You think so?" He asks excitedly.
Putting the sketchbook back on the chair, I turn around and kiss him gently.
"Yeah, I think so."
"It got very boring without you here." He tells me.
"What a shame." I tease. "Would the nurses not make out with you?"
Peeta laughs.
"I'm not interested in them."
"Oh so you just want me, is that it?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
"Well," I lean my head down as if to kiss him but turn away at the last second. "You should have thought about that before sending me away."
He kisses my cheek anyway.
"I didn't want to send you away…" He whispers.
"I know." I tell him.
Peeta shuffles himself closer to the edge of the bed again, making enough room for me to lie on the other side of him.
"Are you sure?" I ask tentatively. "I don't want to hurt you and this is meant to be your bed."
"I'm sure."
I nod, walk the length of the bed and climb onto it as carefully as I can manage.
Peeta's bare skin is cold under my fingertips and I frown slightly.
"Aren't you cold?" I ask, carefully placing myself away from his injures.
"No." He says simply. "My fever spiked before, I literally feel the opposite of the room."
"What do you mean, your fever spiked?"
"It's not contagious, don't worry-"
"-I wasn't worrying…" I mutter.
"Look, I don't want you to worry but they found something unusual in my bloodstream. It's something they've never seen before-"
"-what does this mean?"
"It could mean a lot of things." He stroked my hair slowly. "They're doing more tests now. Which reminds me: they might want to take a sample of your blood too."
"Why do they want blood?"
"Well I was with you for the hours leading up to the collapse. And as I can't remember anything about it, they want to check your blood levels too."
"Do you don't remember it, huh?" I voice after a few seconds.
"Not a thing." He says sadly.
"Do you think it was…?" I let my words trail off.
"Quite possibly, but the hospital doesn't know that."
"Well why not?" I respond hotly. "Maybe they can help! Maybe they can-"
"-they can what? You have to understand that this is bigger than just us Katniss. The police, the doctors; they all work for them. They can't help us."
"Did you lie to the police?"
"No. I told them everything I knew."
"Accept the fact the Capitol has some weird Vendetta on you."
He sighs.
"I just want to get home and spend time with you, okay? I'm just thankful you're not the one in this hospital bed."
"I still think you should tell somebody."
"I'll think about it."
"Did the police say what they were going to do about it?"
He shakes his head.
"They said they would only get involved if the blood results suggested it was from an external stimulus. Otherwise, they're dropping the case."
"That's not fair!" I argue.
"Katniss," he says tiredly. "Just let it go. What's happened has happened, we can't change it."
"What if it happens again?"
"It won't happen again."
"You don't know that." I complain.
He pulls me closer towards him with one arm.
"We'll be fine, I promise."
I'm not sure if it's his tone or if it's simply what I want to hear, but I decide to believe him.
"Okay." I whisper into the air.
"Come here." He says quietly, and I turn myself to face him.
He wraps arms, good and bad, around me tightly. I burrow my head in the crook of his neck and breathe in the scent of Peeta.
"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." He tells me.
"I know." I whisper back.
I tilt my head to the side and he captures my lips with his. My body is curled against his less injured side, my legs folded around his. A hand sits on the centre of his chest while the other is lost beneath me.
His left arm is wrapped around my shoulder, keeping me on the bed.
We kiss for a little while until my stomach gives a huge rumble. Peeta laughs beside me.
"Is my little Katniss hungry?" He teases, prodding at my tummy.
"Your little Katniss hasn't eaten yet today."
He frowns.
"That's not good Kat... Go and get some food, I will wait here."
"I brought some from your house, I hope that's okay. I hate hospital food." I admit.
He smiles at me.
"Sounds good. What else did you get from my house?"
"I got: some clothes, your toothbrush, a phone charger, your sketchbooks and toothpaste."
"Thank you." He kisses me gently to show his gratitude.
"That reminds me, though," I tell him. "I had your phone in my pocket and I completely forgot. When I was walking to yours Finnick phoned."
"Oh?"
"I would have left it alone but you were in hospital and I didn't really know what else to do, so-"
"-you answered it?"
I nod slowly.
"Please don't be mad… I thought he needed to know that you were here-"
He kisses me.
"Oh." I whisper.
"I don't mind." He smiles. "I actually find it really sweet that you cared enough about me to talk to my friends."
"Of course I care about you…"
"What did he say?"
"That you talk about me all the time," I tease. "And he wants you to text him when you can."
I pass his phone over quickly, not wanting to seem possessive over it. He takes it from me and throws it back on the bed, obviously not caring.
"Don't you need to text-"
"I have more important things to do."
"What's that?" I laugh.
He rolls me completely on top of his chest.
"Peeta, I'll hurt you." I protest, pushing myself off him.
"You're lighter than a feather Katniss." He argues. "Besides, you're not touching my shoulder at all so you're fine."
"Is it just your shoulder that hurts?" I ask, stroking his face lightly.
He nods.
"My ribs ache a bit and my heads slightly foggy from the fall, but it's also foggy from kissing you so I can't complain."
I laugh.
"I make your head foggy?"
"You have no idea the effect you have on me, Miss Everdeen."
I kiss his lips once, very quickly, before rolling off him.
"Right," I say. "Let's get you some food."
I jump from the bed and collect the bags of food from the bottom draw, placing them on Peeta's legs.
"I need to go and get a knife, I'll be back in a second. Do you need anything?"
"Can you ask one of the nurses if I can have my prosthetic back?"
"Why?" I ask, confused.
"I just don't think you'll want to see my leg without it."
I roll my eyes at him.
"It doesn't bother me Peeta: leg or no leg."
"You say that now, but-"
"-but nothing. You're not putting it on just for me. It doesn't sound very comfortable anyway."
"It's not too bad." He shrugs. "You get used to it after a while."
"Give yourself a break! You don't need to wear it just because I'm here."
He sighs.
"I'm not going to win, am I?"
"Remember who you're arguing with here."
He smiles.
"Okay, fine."
When I return with the sharp knife I had to sneak past security, Peeta has taken everything out of the packets and laid it out on the bed.
"Do whatever you want, just please don't hurt me." He mocks, holding his hands up.
I laugh.
"You feeling okay?"
He nods.
"Nothing has changed in the last 5 minutes."
I scowl at him from across the room.
"Come on, I'm only teasing."
We eat in near silence. Peeta skillfully cuts the apple without getting any of the sugary juices on the bed or cutting himself on the blade.
He places chunks of apple on top of the cheese covered bread and hands one over.
"Thanks."
I don't think I realised just how hungry I was, because I devour it in less than 10 seconds.
Peeta laughs at me.
"Here," he says, handing me another one. "Eat this one too."
"Thanks." I say again.
"I don't know how you can eat so much and remain so small." He comments, squeezing my knee lightly.
"High metabolism I guess." I laugh.
Before long, we've eaten all the food.
"Do you feel any better now?" He asks me.
"I do, thank you."
"Good!"
I quickly move all of the rubbish from the bed and place it all in the corner of the room.
"What clothes did you bring me?" Peeta asks as I'm walking back towards him.
"Oh right." I laugh. "Just some comfy looking stuff really."
I pull them from the draw and place them on the bed.
"Great, thanks." He says, picking them up one by one.
He smirks when he hits the underwear.
"Been rummaging around my draws, have you?"
"You wish Mellark, you wish."
He chuckles quietly.
"I'm just going to the toilet," I say. "It'll give you time to change."
"Great, thanks."
"Could you sound any more sarcastic?"
"I didn't mean too. Sorry, I'm a bit tired."
"It's fine." I smile.
I stare at myself in the mirror of the women's toilets. Dark black circles are beginning to form beneath my eyes, highlighting how much of a tole today has taken on me. My muscles ache with exhaustion…
"You look a mess." I laugh to myself.
I splash some cold water on my face and run my hands through my straggly hair. Sighing, I put it in a bun in the top of my head.
There is still some blood trapped under my nails, refusing to move with the tepid water. Giving up, I wipe my wet hands on Peeta's t-shirt.
I figure that Peeta has probably had enough time to get changed by now, so I leave the toilets trying not to touch anything on my way out.
As I'm walking back down the corridor, I grab a small cup of water from one of the large coolers.
"Hey," I say as I walk back into the room.
Peeta is sat in the fresh clothes I brought, his legs stretched out over the mattress. The fabric over his lower left leg is empty, sagging from the knee down.
I smile at him.
"Hey, you're back!" He grins. "And you have your hair up. I like it."
"Thanks. I, um. I got you a cup of water so you could brush your teeth later."
"Thank you."
"Anytime." I yawn.
I settle the plastic cup next to my now ice cold coffee and sit in the end of the bed.
"Are you tired?" Peeta asks gently, pulling me into his chest and engulfing me in his strong arms.
I nod into him.
"Come on, let's go to sleep." He tells me.
"No, you should sleep. I'll sit in the chair."
I start to push myself away from him but he pulls be back.
"I'd prefer it if you'd sleep here with me actually." He whispers in my ear.
I shiver against his body.
"But you're the one in hospital…"
"You either sleep next to me or I'm not sleeping." He protests.
I laugh.
Looking at the bed longingly, I think back to how it felt to sleep next to Peeta this morning. I smile.
He kisses my cheek.
"Okay, fine." I resign.
I pass him the cup of water, toothpaste and his toothbrush. He takes them graciously.
"Does this not bother you?" I ask after a few seconds, fiddling with his empty trouser leg.
He simply shrugs as he continues to brush his teeth.
I take hold of the fabric and slowly begin to roll it up. I twist it over and over until it falls just above the stump. Dragging my thumb over the scar, I wait patiently for Peeta to finish.
I look up to find him smiling his crooked smile at me - it's been a while since I've seen it.
"What?" I laugh.
He spits into the empty cup and places it on the side, which is growing increasingly full of rubbish.
"I can't believe it doesn't bother you. I mean, it bothers me…"
I take his hand.
"Why does it bother you?"
"Sometimes it's just a little bit like 'woah, where's my leg?' you know?"
I nod sadly.
"That's understandable." I trace the lines on the back of his hand. "But it's just a leg."
"You're pretty amazing, did you know that?" He kisses me sweetly.
"Hmm, sure." I laugh.
I take the tube of toothpaste from beside Peeta's leg and put a tiny blob on my finger.
"This is so gross." I mutter, smearing the minty substance over my teeth.
Peeta passes me a fresh bottle of water and I down the majority of it.
"So gross," I repeat. "I should have probably got some of my own stuff before too."
Kicking off my shoes, I join Peeta on the bed.
"I can't really lie on my side, I'm sorry…" He says.
"That's fine."
I lie sideways. One of my legs is draped over his thighs, the other stretching out down the length of the bed. My head is resting on his upper arm, as he holds me tightly.
I feel incredibly comfortable as I lay here, my body intertwined with his. Despite my exhaustion, my eyelids are no longer heavy.
"Goodnight Katniss."
He kisses my forehead.
"Goodnight Peeta."
After a little while, his breathing levels out. Waves of minty air brush the top of my head and I know that he is already fast asleep.
I rest my hand on his steady chest. Moving closer to his body, he holds me even tighter subconsciously. I smile sleepily.
I stay there a long time, listening to him breathe. He mumbles something in his sleep and nuzzles his head into my neck against me.
I think about how much my life has changed since meeting Peeta, alongside how much I've changed. He makes me a much better person; a much happier person.
I think about all the little things he does when we're together: the gentle kisses, the affectionate strokes, how he draws patterns on my skin. He always finds a way to keep contact with me, a way to show he cares.
I think about that feeling I get in my stomach when he looks at me through his long blond eyelashes. The happiness I feel when he grins from ear to ear…
And just like that, I realise: I've fallen in love with Peeta Mellark.
Did that make up for Katniss running away in the previous chapter? I told you things would move a little quicker and Katniss would be less blind to her feelings!
I hope you enjoyed this update, I love you all!