Hi guys... a bit of angst coming up. Have fun reading, and thank you so much for clicking on my modest little HG Fanfiction!

Chapter Ten.

I woke up the next morning, still in Peeta's arms. I had forgotten for a moment that he was home early, but once I realized he was actually with me I settled down into his chest and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to have to go into town today. I need to check on the bakery, make sure the guys didn't burn it down or give free cupcakes to all the girls in town. You laugh, but both of those things have almost happened."

We both laugh as Peeta manages to pry his body from mine and stands up. It's so wonderful to have Peeta back and for him to be making jokes. He looks around the room, and I realize that he's looking for the t-shirt he left on the floor. The one I'm wearing. I can't help but chuckle, and I think Peeta realizes where exactly his shirt is. He smiles and sighs.

"Do you want it back?"

As soon as I say this I realize what that could possibly imply. I imediently bury my face in the pillow and say over and over, "That's not what I meant!" After a moment I peak my eyes over the very edge of the pillow and see Peeta with a ridiculous smile on his face. I think I can also see him blushing a bit. I sit up and hug the pillow to my chest; Peeta makes his way over to me in a way that can only be described as sauntering, and sits down.

He smiles again and leans forward, lightly kissing me along my hair line. It also happens to be the same place as my scar, the one he left me after his most recent episode. I look up at him again, still slightly mortified. I was just about to go over what I would say if he actually did ask for it back when he stood up again and said,

"You can keep it. I did say I think it's cute, remember?"

He stands up and grabs a different shirt from the top drawer of my dresser. He reaches to pull his sleep shirt off, and I don't look away even though I think about it. He turns and catches my eyes in his. There is starting to be a little too much tension in the room for my liking, so I quickly stand up.

"I think I'm gonna go make some hot chocolate."

I can almost feel Peeta smile as I make my way to the kitchen.

Peeta is wonderful. We fall back into our routine, but with a few more kisses thrown in. He bakes, Haymitch drinks, and I hunt. Two weeks after Peeta came back I managed to kill a rabbit. I ran home like I did when I shot my first game so long ago; I was almost giddy. I had time to skin it and start the stew before Peeta came back from the bakery. He was so happy that I was happy. Between us we ate the whole pot of stew and several cheese buns. It was the best day I've had in a long time.

It's strange, day to day life. My days aren't divided by good and bad; we don't go through fazes. I could wake up and feel normal again, but for no reason in particular end the day in a horrible mood. Occasionally, with Peeta at the bakery, I find myself wondering around, alternating between my house and the woods.

Peeta has been teaching me the basics of bread, and after about fifteen tries I managed to not start anything on fire. More often than naught the lessons end in a flour fight and some more kissing; I think we've both given up on me being a baker. I tell Peeta that it works out this way, since I wouldn't trust him with a bow and arrow.

These are the good days, the times when we can manage to be normal for a few moments. There isn't a night when at least one of us doesn't have a nightmare. They pass quickly now, and Peeta hasn't had a bad episode sense he went to the Capitol. I wake up screaming and sweating in Peeta's arms with images of Prim behind my eyes.

Other times I'll catch Peeta standing, almost frozen, and gripping the back of a chair. When this happens I go over to him, say the usual things, and sometimes I sing. They never last long and he hasn't hurt me. He was afraid of that at first. When he comes out of his episodes he looks at me, holding his breath and silently asking if he had done anything. I know now more than ever that we truly need each other to remain sane. He is the only one that knows what I'm going though without me even saying a word. He doesn't mention his family, but I know he needs time to process everything. Sometimes I catch his eye and I sense something going on with him, something that he isn't ready to tell me yet. But, I know he will eventually tell me.

He holds me when I wake up terrified and whispers comforting words in my ear. When people from the Capitol call about doing another news special he answers and tells them to leave me alone. He wants me to go into town, to see his bakery, but I can't yet manage. He understands, which I am so thankful for. One morning I got a call from my mother, just wondering how I was doing. It was the first call I've gotten in a year. After we hung up I turned to Peeta and clung to him for dear life, feeling awful for reasons that I couldn't pinpoint.

I haven't cried that much lately. It seems most of it has gotten out of my system. I hate crying, especially crying in front of Peeta. I feel weak and vulnerable, even though he keeps telling me it's good to get these things out. I want to be strong for him, and I can't see that happening when I'm a sobbing mess. One night he has a particularly bad nightmare, he doesn't say what it was about. Although, judging by the way he held me afterwards and how he kissed me, soft and almost desperate, I guessed it was about losing me. All of his nightmares are about me. I hate that.

I tell him, one night after he has another nightmare. I hate that I'm the source for all his pain. He looked at me like I was crazy when I said this. He said that I wasn't the pain; it was the absence of me. In his nightmares I was being taken away from him, I was hurt, and he couldn't do anything about it. He told me when he woke up and saw that I was in his arms, that I was safe, it was the best feeling in the world. That's all he ever wanted, he said. But I can't picture it. I can't accept it just yet, what he told me:

that all Peeta Mellark has ever wanted is to hold me in his arms and make sure I'm safe.

On nights like these I hold him equally as tight, one leg hooked around him and his face tucked into the crook of my neck. I want to be bigger for him; I want to be able to hold him like he holds me. I feel so small next to him and sometimes I get afraid that it isn't enough.

When we wake up together like that and he looks at me like I'm the only person in the world, and kisses me the same way, I know that it is.

Lately, though, it hasn't been enough for me. Peeta isn't the problem. We still talk, laugh, cry, joke, and kiss like usual. I don't know what it is, actually.

One afternoon I was in my basement, trying to catch up on the ridiculous amount of laundry I have. Since I haven't done it in about two years, there was a lot to accomplish. I turned to walk up the stairs, and the way the light reflected off the window pane made me look twice. It's happened before; I see Prim in my house. The light plays tricks on my eyes and once it's in front of me I can't make it go away. I try to push it from my mind, but for the rest of the day I see Prim.

After the laundry I go to sit on my front stoop, watching the fall leaves in the wind. The primrose bushes are still growing nicely in my front yard. The yellow petals blow gently in the breeze, and I pick one up that had fallen with the force of it. I stared at the delicate flower, turning it in my hands and memorizing the curves of the petals and the way the yellow turns into a light orange at the center. I hold the soft petals between my fingers and see some pollen rub off.

The wind picks up, and I lift the small flower in the air to let the wind carry it away. I say goodbye to Prim inside my mind, following the small flower with my eyes until it disappears beyond my range of sight. I know that Peeta is minutes away and supposed to be home in a matter of hours, but I still feel so alone.

I forget the laundry and decide to head to my room. I curl up on my bed, not knowing what to do with myself. I decide on a bath, so I make my way into the bathroom and turn the tap. I let the tub fill with hot water as I just stand there, like moving is the hardest thing in the world. I rip my clothes off and settle into the boiling water. I rest my chin on my knees, hugging them to my chest. I sit there for a long time before I even think of washing up. But instead, my eyes wonder again and stop at a small container on the shelves next to the mirror. I recognize it as a container of razor blades, given to me by my prep team to keep tabs on my "appalling" body hair.

In District 12 harming yourself isn't a new phenomenon. I remember going to school, seeing the red marks and white scars on a few select girls. One of them was in my class every morning. She was small and mousey, with dull brown hair and freckles. I didn't know her name, but it was common knowledge that her parents fought quite a bit. Her father was rumored to take his anger out on her and her mother, which would explain the random bruises on her arms. She had an older brother who was working in the mines. He didn't have time to help her. She probably died in the bombing.

I never understood the point of such a thing. I didn't have time to sit and wallow in my misery, I was only thinking of feeding Prim and my mother. I also had Gale and his family to worry about. It never crossed my mind. Plus, there was also the risk of someone seeing the marks, or infecting them on my long days in the woods. My whole life was spent making sure to keep everyone intact, why would I take it upon myself to spoil that?

But now, sitting in this tub of boiling water in a place I absolutely never pictured myself in, I understood that girl and wished I had asked her name. I stand up slowly, took the box from the shelf and sat back in the water.

I didn't want to make a mess.

I washed my blood away, and then let the tub drain like nothing had happened. That was the strange part. Nothing felt different, except maybe a feeling of slight accomplishment. I didn't feel like sobbing, I didn't feel happy. I pull on my clothes, careful to make sure the marks were covered. I had chosen a place that Peeta wouldn't be likely to see; at least I was lucid enough to think about something like that. I slipped on my loose shirt, covering the dozen or so cuts immediately above my right hip bone.

I hear the door open and go to greet Peeta like nothing happened.

Don't be upset! I would also like to take this time to say you should never, ever, hurt yourself. I have personally gone through some things like this, and I promise that it doesn't fix anything. Seek help if you are doing or thinking about doing it. With that being said, I have more reviews to respond to! Also, I promise a VERY VERY amazing and cute chapter related to this coming up. A certain someone (Pernille :p) will be happy about it, that's all I'm saying :)

VannaMa'Kayla:

At first I wasn't sure about Josh being cast, but after watching the movie and all of his interviews I've decided I'm in love with him, haha. I think that personality wise he is so, so Peeta. Other than that I pictured him being taller, but he is the cutest thing I've ever seen so I'm not too upset XD And I cannot wait for Catching Fire! OH MAN I am going to just sit at home and twitch when the trailer is released. Thank you so much for the review! I love that you love this story :)

WaffleNinja:

First of all, you get bonus points for your username. With that being said, thank you so much! I'm glad you like it and I hope you enjoy the rest! :D

Kathybear:

I was worried about Katniss crying too much. The way I see it is she has a lot of things to process, and crying is a good way to use up some energy. I did write that she wasn't comfortable with it, I think she would feel like it's a sign of weakness. I agree that Katniss isn't the crying type, but after something so traumatic happened to her it shook her up. It's just a healing process, not who she actually is. Thank you for the review! :D

Charlotte:

Oh, I know right? Peeta is the absolute best. He's a great match for Katniss, and so amazing that he can know what she's thinking and say the right things. She doesn't voice her feelings all the time; Peeta balances her very well. Happy reading! 3

Pernille:

Hello again! Again, SO MANY THANK YOUS for this. I feel like the pace of their relationship is so important and unique to them. Although I'm sure Peeta would be more than happy to jump into every aspect of a relationship with Katniss, she needs time and he understands that. Her needing time doesn't have anything to do with what she feels for Peeta, it has to do with herself. She has insecurities, understandably, and also is very hesitant in having someone so close to her. I'm sure she also feels bad about things, like what I wrote before about her feeling like Peeta was hurting himself by staying with her. Haha, you and your passion! Don't you worry, dear. Believe me, Everlark passion is the reason for my life. :)

Giorgia:

Ciao again! Your reviews make me smile. Your English is great, don't worry! It's much better than my Italian anyway XD Oh man, thank you so so so much! I love that you appreciate the characters and how I write them. I was worried because Suzanne Collins is so good, and it's her book after all, but thank you! It makes me feel better about the whole thing 3 I'm from the mainland, lol. It's a small town named Fano, about an hour from Florence. You've been to the US! Yay! I'm from Connecticut, so about three hours from NYC. I LOVE it there. You've been to more places in America than I have, haha! I've been to all the ones you mentioned except for Baltimore. I was in Italy in March for a study abroad; we went to Rome, Florence, Assisi, Pisa, and then to Barcelona in Spain. It was so beautiful! I never wanted to leave. Keep reading, I really enjoy your comments! :D

**Again, thanks to everyone who reviewed. Love you guys *hug through computer* :)