I wake up before Peeta, rolling over onto my back and stretching my legs long against the mattress. He stirs, his arm searching until his fingers land upon my arm and his searching ends. I smile over at him, comforted by the fact that all he needed to steady himself in sleep was the simple touch of my skin against his.
Glancing at the clock I read the bleary red five a.m. lights. Soon he'll be waking up and off to another day at the bakery, another day where I'll fend for myself until later this evening when I'll slip off to work.
The thought isn't appealing. Not really.
I spend the next half hour wondering how I can make the day go by quicker. I make lists in my head of things I'll do: I'll call Prim and go for a run, I'll get some shopping done, and maybe clean the kitchen. Things I've been meaning to do for weeks but just haven't been able to get up the energy to do.
"Hey," Peeta murmurs huskily, startling me out of my thoughts. I turn to him with a soft smile in the dark and reach out to stop the alarm before it starts. "You're up early." I nod and scoot a little closer into his outstretched arms, nuzzling at his shoulder while he hums at me.
"I was thinking about what to do today," I say softly against his chest. His arms squeeze around me slightly and I can almost feel the smile beaming from him.
"That's good. Anything exciting I should skip work for?" The words are laced with tired joking, the laughter light in the early morning hours. I sneak a look up at him and waggle my eyebrows suggestively before he laughs a bone shaking guffaw. "Okay – anything else? I don't think I'm allowed to skip for just that."
"Ah, then nope. I was going to call Prim and see if she wanted to go for a run." If I could ever leave the warmth and comfort of being here in Peeta's arms.
"You should do that then. Speaking of running, it's late, love," Peeta whispers and before he pulls away he presses a slow kiss to my lips. "I'll see you this afternoon?"
"I'll go start breakfast. See you in twenty."
Instead of curling back into the covers I pull myself from the bed and stagger downstairs and into the kitchen. It's been a long while since I had then energy to do this consciously and not just in the haze of the motions. Staking out a plan I move into action and begin poaching some eggs and burning some toast, pulling out the butter and slathering it on each piece. When Peeta enters the kitchen his smile is wide, his eyes bright and his hair still damp from the shower. I smile at him again, this one bright and matching his, before slipping into a seat at the table.
We eat in comfortable near quiet, the only sounds being those of our forks hitting the plates. When Peeta slides back and moves to place his dishes in the sink, I watch him until he returns and pecks his lips against my forehead quickly.
"I'm glad you've got a plan," he mumbles and pulls away before I can say anything else.
Once he's gone I busy myself in the kitchen for the next while, cleaning the dishes and putting everything in its place. When I'm done I don't hesitate before picking up the phone and calling Prim, my toe tapping as it rings on the other end.
"Prim here," she quips into the phone, surprising me with her groggy abruptness.
"Prim? It's Katniss..." I hear a shuffle on the other end, a deeper voice grumbling as my sister rustles the sheets of her bed.
"Katniss? What're you doing up at this hour?" She hisses as though she's whispering. I can just picture her now as she was when we were younger, curled up on the edge of the bed and whispering into the phone as though it was more private that way.
"I um – I was wondering if maybe, um..." I pause, not sure whether I should intrude on her morning any further. "Oh, nevermind. You've got –"
"What is it, Kat?" She interrupts and her voice is softer, more focused.
"It's nothing, don't worry," I insist as my nerves rile. I'm starting to second guess myself now, so out of the loop on life that I'd just expected her to be at my beck and call for when I came back to life.
Of course she moved on with things while I was down. That's what people do.
"Don't jerk me around, Katniss. Tell me what's up," Prim demands from the other end of the line and I'm snapped out of my self-doubt by the commanding tone of her voice. She's using the tone I'd always used with my mother when I couldn't get her to come back around to us.
I'm not my mother.
The thought stings.
"I wanted to go for a run. But you've got someone there. It was rude of me to call, I'm sorry!" I bark into the phone and place it on the dock effectively hanging up on her. I know as soon as the call has ended that that was probably one of the most childish things I've done in a really long while. I know for sure it's bound to make her wonder about my sanity, but the way she'd demanded things from me – this was my baby sister. How dare she try to pull rank on me?
Huffing to myself I march into the living room and sit heavily down on the couch with my arms crossed. I try to avoid thinking about how my morning has soured, how I could have found other reasons to keep Peeta at home to keep me company, when the phone rings. I see the display pop up with 'Primrose Everdeen' and I scowl.
"Yes?" I snap into the line.
"Don't you dare do that to me ever again Katniss Everdeen!" Prim hiccups into the phone. I can hear her soft sniffles on the other end of the line and my heart clenches in my chest. Why is she crying?
"Prim?" My voice softens significantly. My sweet sister, what have I done?
"Don't hang up on me! You know who used to do that!"
Mom used to do that.
"Oh, Prim, I'm sorry." My heart sinks. I was more like my mother than I thought. The idea only makes my mood sink more.
"Listen, Kat. I'm getting my gear on. Be ready in fifteen for our run, okay?" She doesn't let me finish feeling bad, instead opting to force me to refocus my thoughts and bounce back to the plan I'd started out with. I mutter an agreement and hang up, running upstairs to get my own gear ready for our run.
By the time Prim arrives I'm already sitting on the porch, watching the squirrels in the early morning light of the yard. She doesn't even stop her jog in front of my house, instead waving me down and making me catch up to her. The action is all too familiar, pulling me back to before I got sick.
Two miles in I'm feeling my body slip back into the motion of the run, my body starting to burn and my heart starting to pump quicker than it has in months. It feels good to exhaust myself like this, refreshing almost.
By mile four though I'm tiring quickly and I start leading us on the shortcut back to the house. Prim follows easily, not questioning my actions or calling me out on bailing on our run so early.
It's not until I'm home and filling up water glasses for us both that either one of us even mentions anything about this morning. I'm not the first to break either, I leave that to Prim who's never been good at staying quiet.
"What was up this morning?" She asks plainly, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down. I follow her movements, joining her and sighing as I run a hand across my face.
"I don't know – I guess when I heard that you, uh... had someone over, that maybe I was, I don't know..." I shrug and look away, nervous to admit how it had felt to be replaced. Prim never used to be the one bailing on our runs – she used to always be the one kicking my butt out of bed in the morning.
I know when I meet her eyes again though that my answer hasn't been enough for her.
"I thought like I was intruding on your life – okay?" I blurt out at the scowl on her face. It instantly softens at my words, though her eyes remain honest.
"I'm here, aren't I?" She asks carefully. I nod and clasp my hands together, staring instead at my knuckles rather than at her. "And if I'm here, would you say that you're being a bother?" I shake my head no, choosing to remain silent again. "Katniss, I know this is hard. I can't say I know what you're feeling but I know something about what might be going through your head. Even on days like today where you start second guessing yourself, please remember that you're my sister and that you are always important to me. No matter what, okay?"
Even though I know her words are true, much like Peeta's constant reminders are true, it still fights my instincts to believe it's real. I know that's the depression in me. I know it because that's what the books I've been reading and what the doctor has been telling me during my bi-weekly check ins. It's still hard though, to take these words at face value and not doubt myself and the people I love.
But today I force myself to push on, meeting Prim's steady gaze head on.
"I'm trying," I state quietly. Prim nods and reaches across the table for my hand before I meet her halfway.
"I know you are. And I love you for it," her eyes spark slightly and her smile returns in full force. "Now, what are we getting up to today? It's my day off."
AN: If you've experienced depression, you might know what this is like. As someone who has slipped into it after being highly active for a long period of time, it's interesting to combine your old routines back into your life, especially if they involved another person.