The room is dark and fuzzy. My eyes can't seem to focus on anything yet. I blink a coupled of times and squeeze them shut to try and get rid of the coating of mucus or whatever covering my eyes. It seems to do the trick as I can make out most things. A soft breeze blows through the wide open window, causing the curtains to dance around. Outside the sky is black and covered in tiny white starts, twinkling. I push myself up slowly into a sitting position and examine my body. Peeta's big white t-shirt that I wear to bed is on me; I could have sworn I was naked a minute ago. I seem to have gained yet more bruises, painted on my thighs. It's gotten to the point of ridiculousness. Everyday my body seems to acquire a new addition to the broken and abused scars group. Suddenly the door swings open and Peeta is standing in the doorway. He is shirtless, wearing the pair of track suit bottoms that he wears to bed and holding a glass of water. When he sees me he pulls up short. "Katniss?" I nod and clear my throat as it feels horse and crusted from dry saliva. "Yeah. Hey." He then slowly and awkwardly walks around to his side of the bed and sits down. For a while the room is silent. Then he begins to apologise. "Look, I'm sorry. So sorry, I don't even know what happened. One minute you were enjoying it and the next you were screaming your head off I-" "It's okay." "But...it's not okay. After you fell asleep I started remembering more. I-I saw you, young with braids, singing and I remembered the first time I ever laid eyes on you, and in the past eight hours I've...just remembered so much. All those nights in the cave. On the train. Our friends truce, the arenas, the capitol mission. Everything, and I don't know why now and why all at once because the doctors said it would take weeks to build back up again but...I guess not. And I just kept thinking how I've been treating you and what I've been doing to you, and done to you and it is not okay and-" "Stop! Please, Peeta, just stop!" I yell and he shushes, an exasperated expression on his face. He turns a little to face me full on. "You need to...calm down and just sshhh. You've been all jittery and non stop lately. It's like there's too many words for you to get out in a few seconds." "Sorry." He says. There's a pause of silence. It's okay, I think but don't say, worrying he'll go off again. Instead I say, "Eight hours?" He laughs lightly. "Yeah, you were out for ages." "I don't remember being tired." I shrug. "Are you tired?" His head shake is drawn out, painfully slow. "Yes." I give him a confused look. "But you just shook your head?" "I know. I was trying to tell myself no, but telling you yes: the truth." "Okay." He moves closer to me. "Why are you laughing?" "Your so funny, Peeta." "Haha not really." My hand automatically rests on his leg. "You don't realise, that's what makes it so funny." I say. He gives me a sweet smile and lays his eyes on my belly. Self-continence takes over and I fold my arms across my stomach. "What?" I say. "When you were out I started panicking, because I thought, 'maybe I've hurt the baby' or something. So I laid you on the bed on your back just incase. You know I thought about calling the hospital but just as I picked up the phone, I don't know why but I rested my hand over the bump," his eyes have glazed over with a dreamy sense of catatonic by the memory remembrance, "and I felt it. Kicking. Little tiny thumps like a heart pulse against you." "Oh..." I half sigh. I've never felt it kick before! This makes me so happy, because it makes him happy. Knowing that he felt it kicking before I did sort of confirms he's the father...sort of. He's caught up and dazed by the thought of my baby-our baby. I trail a hand down his arm. "I love you." I say. Crookedly, his lips turn up at one corner and reveal half a row of shiny white teeth. "Come here." He says and pulls me into a big hug. The warmth that radiates from between our bodies is roasting my skin, in a good way. It reassures me and allows my body to slump into his. I can hear the smoothness of his breathing tickling my ears. We stay like this for a while, and the breathing is so rhythmically soothing that his voice makes me jump. "I love you too." "Finally." I say and can feel his smile growing. Finally was the right response, because I've been waiting at least a month to hear those three words escape Peeta's lips. All the memories of him going crazy flash through my mind. That first day when I dropped the medicine bottle and he injured me all over. Awful. Then in the hospital he looked like he might be sick when he saw me. Even though he's back now, and confirming our love that horrible hollowed feeling in my stomach hasn't gone, and I don't think it ever will. I'm feeling pathetic night now, because tears are beginning to prick my eyes. I snivel to try and clear them. Peeta seems to notice as the the warmth between us leaves and he holds me in an examining stance. "What?" This brings on a big round of tears and sobbing. "I can't handle this. It's...it's too much, for both of us." I say through chokes and snivels. His expression changes from confused to worried. "...but-" "It's too much. Too much!" I say and get up and march over to the window where I stand, holding the frame with my shoulders in a hunch. The sky outside is still black and still dotted with little twinkly silver stars. Below I see a lady, dressed simply, briskly walking down the street. Her curly hair bounces off her back with each step. I wonder where she is headed. Maybe she is hurrying home to a hose full of laughing children excited to embrace their mother after a long day away from her; or she could arrive home to nothing and no one but a yapping animal of some sort, tearing her tights with its eager paws through the excitement of her presence. Or she could be heading home to a lover: husband or boyfriend that can't wait to whisk her up in his arms and kiss her passionately as time stops. I feel Peeta's hand on my shoulder and turn around to face him, folding my arms across my chest and still crying. "Hey, where did that come from? Is it because I said I love you?" "No! Yes! It's because I've been trying so hard not to think about the past few months incase it all started again from the beginning, so as soon as I thought about it I just...broke!" I yell, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. His arm comes around my shoulder gently and I snug my head into his neck. "I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy." He says. "And I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy either." I say. "But I promise, Katniss, you'll never loose me. Ever again. That's not me, the past few months, I haven't been myself. But you'll never loose me again." I know he's still not himself, and with every phase he slips further and further away from me. He said almost those exact words last month, an turned back on them. Through no fault of his own at all, but he still doesn't remember. That just makes me think he doesn't remember as much, which makes me think he doesn't remember loving me as much as he used to and over time were going to grow apart. I know it's thinking really deep into this and it's a bit strange how I came to that conclusion, but I did. And that means something. I can also tell by the way he's looking at me. Dazed and confused, as if he's trying really really hard to focus. There's no unconditional love in his eyes like there are in mine. All the sex and intimacy before, that was just lust. Peeta used to be so much more loving. "But I have lost you." I say. He drops his arm as if he's lost a long battle, which I guess he has. The battle with me, himself and our relationship. "Okay." He says with no sadness in his voice, only undesired inevitable relief. The hole growing in the pit of my stomach cuts right through me.