Okay so this is the last chapter, and I just wanted to thank everyone who has read the story up to this point. Let me know if you want me to write Catching Fire, but as I have my AS-level exams starting soon I probably won't be able to start for a few months. Thank you to everyone who has left a review, it's because of people like you that I've carried on writing so thank you so much :) I hope you enjoy the last chapter, and please let me know what you think.
Chapter Twenty One
There's a blinding flash of lights, and then I see her. My face breaks in to a huge smile, as I see how healthy and beautiful she looks. Cinna's dressed her in a simple yellow dress that matches my shirt. It gives the impression that she's wearing candlelight and it makes her features softly glow.
We walk towards each other and she flings herself in to my arms, with such force that I nearly lose my balance and have to grip the top of my cane. I'd forgotten just how good it felt to have her in my arms. We cling to each other, and I kiss her. It's like she's breathing life back in to me, and I feel stronger than I have felt in days. I can vaguely hear the audience, they're going wild, but I barely notice them. All my attention is entirely taken by the happiness that is filling me up.
We must have been kissing for about ten minutes, and I feel a tap on my shoulder. It's Caesar Flickerman, wanting to start the show. I push him away, without even glancing at him, not wanting anything to spoil this moment.
Finally, Haymitch interrupts us and gives us a good-natured shove toward the victor's chair. Usually, this is a single, ornate chair from which the winning tribute watches a film of the highlights of the Games, but since there are two of us, the Gamemakers have provided a plush red velvet couch. We sit down, Katniss's limbs entwined with mine. I hold on to her tight, I've been separated from her for days, and now I can't bear to let go of her. She kicks off her shoes, and tucks her leg up, snuggling closer in to me. I pull my arm tighter around her.
Caesar Flickerman makes a few more jokes, and then it's time for the show. This will last exactly three hours and is required viewing for all of Panem. I've been dreading this bit, but with Katniss by my side I know that I can make it through. Condensing several weeks into three hours is quite a feat, especially when you consider how many cameras were going at once. Whoever puts together the highlights has to choose what sort of story to tell. This year, for the first time, they tell a love story.
The first half hour or so focuses on the pre-arena events, the reaping, the chariot ride through the Capitol, our training scores, and our interviews. There's this sort of upbeat soundtrack playing under it that makes it twice as awful because, of course, almost everyone on-screen is dead.
Once we're in the arena, there's detailed coverage of the bloodbath and then the filmmakers basically alternate between shots of tributes dying and shots of us. I'm glad to see that they show me with the careers, and she sees how I only did it to protect her. How I stayed awake under that tracker jacker tree all night, just to make sure she was okay. How I tried to fight Cato off, so that she could run. They show me lying half dead in the mud bank, whispering her name in my sleep.
Then they show Katniss, dodging fireballs, dropping nests, and blowing up supplies. I feel her stiffen when they show Rue's death. They play it in full, and I see Katniss singing to her as she dies. I swallow hard. I know how difficult this must be for her, but she has to try and make it through tonight, I'm always going to be there for her.
Then I see her calling my name from a tree, after they announced that there could be two victors. They show her nursing me back to health, fighting off Clove at the Cornucopia to get the medicine that saved my life.
I see fully how gruesome Cato's death was, and unease sweeps through me.
And then comes the moment with the berries. I can hear the audience hushing one another, not wanting to miss anything. The film makers don't end with the announcement of our victory. They end with Katniss banging on the door of the hovercraft, screaming my name as they try and revive me.
The anthem's playing yet again and we rise as President Snow himself takes the stage followed by a little girl carrying a cushion that holds the crown. There's just one crown, though, and you can hear the crowd's confusion — whose head will he place it on? — until President Snow gives it a twist and it separates into two halves. He places the first half on my head with a smile, and places the other on Katniss's.
Much bowing and cheering follows. My arm is about to fall off from waving when Caesar Flickerman finally bids the audience good night, reminding them to tune in tomorrow for the final interviews. Then we're ushered in to the Presidents mansion for the victory banquet, where we have very little time to eat as Capitol officials and particularly generous sponsors elbow one another out of the way as they try to get their picture with us. Face after beaming face flashes by, becoming increasingly intoxicated as the evening wears on.
I don't once let go of Katniss's hand.
The sun is just peeking over the horizon when we straggle back to the twelfth floor of the Training Center. I can tell that Katniss wants to speak to me, but Haymitch sends us both off to bed before we have the chance.
I'm woken up by my prep team, who work on my while I eat breakfast. I've never really taken the time to notice what they do to me before, I usually just let them get on with it. They order me to shower and wash my hair, and then they carefully style it. I get my face and by moisturised, and a light application of make up. I dress in the red and white outfit that Portia hands to me, and then I'm ready for the interview.
I walk in to the sitting room and find Katniss already there. She looks absolutely stunning in a floaty white dress and pink shoes. I haven't been able to speak to her properly since the arena, and even then we were being followed by the cameras. I can't wait to get back home with her, so we can start our life together, away from an eager audience. I pull her to one side.
"I hardly get to see you. Haymitch seems bent on keeping us apart." I say.
"Yes, he's gotten very responsible lately." She says.
"Well, there's just this and we go home. Then he can't watch us all the time," I say. She looks like she wants to say something back, but its interview time so we go to sit on the sofa. We sit formally at first, but then Caesar says,
"Oh, go ahead and curl up next to him if you want. It looked very sweet." So she tucks her feet up, and I pull her closer to me. Someone counts backward and just like that, we're being broadcast live to the entire country. Me and Caesar already have a rapport since the first interview. I can tell that Katniss isn't that comfortable so I try and answer as many questions as I can.
"Well, Peeta, we know, from our days in the cave, that it was love at first sight for you from what, age five?" He says.
"From the moment I laid eyes on her," I say truthfully.
"But, Katniss, what a ride for you. I think the real excitement for the audience was watching you fall for him. When did you realize you were in love with him?" He asks. I have to admit, I'm interested to hear the answer to this myself.
"Oh, that's a hard one . . ." and she gives a faint laugh.
"Well, I know when it hit me. The night when you shouted out his name from that tree," She says.
"Yes, I guess that was it. I mean, until that point, I just tried not to think about what my feelings might be, honestly, because it was so confusing and it only made things worse if I actually cared about him. But then, in the tree, everything changed," She says. My heart flutters, and I feel a rush of affection for her.
"Why do you think that was?" urges Caesar.
"Maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance I could keep him," She says quietly. Caesar pulls out a handkerchief and has to take a moment because he's so moved, and I press my forehead against her temple.
"So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" I say.
"Put you somewhere you can't get hurt." She says, turning to me. I kiss her, but one is never enough, the second we pull away I want another one. But there'll be plenty of time for that when we get home.
Caesar starts to talk about all the ways that we did get hurt in the arena. The burns, the stings, the scratches, the bites. The we get around to the mutts.
"So Peeta, how's your new leg working out?" He asks me. I remember that I didn't have chance to tell Katniss.
"New leg?" She says, and she reaches up and pulls the bottom of my trousers up. Her face drops when she sees the metal and plastic contraption that's replaced my flesh. "Oh, no," she whispers.
"No one told you?" asks Caesar gently. She shakes her head.
"I haven't had the chance," I say with a shrug. It doesn't really bother me, it's a small price to pay for love.
"It's my fault," She says. "Because I used that tourniquet."
"Yes, it's your fault I'm alive," I say, because she really did save my life. More than once.
"He's right," says Caesar. "He'd have bled to death for sure without it."
Katniss looks like she might cry, so she buries her face in my shirt. I rub her back comfortingly, and it takes several minutes for us to coax her back out.
Caesar directs his questions back to me though, and she seems to calm down. This wasn't the way that I wanted her to find out about my leg. I would have liked to tell her in private, but Haymitch saw to that.
"Katniss, I know you've had a shock, but I've got to ask. The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind . . . hm?" Caesar asks.
She takes a long time to answer. "I don't know, I just . . . couldn't bear the thought of . . . being without him."
"Peeta? Anything to add?" asks Caesar.
"No. I think that goes for both of us," I say.
Caesar signs off and it's over. Everyone's laughing and crying and hugging. I notice Katniss goes over and has a whispered conversation to Haymitch. I start to wonder what it's about, but then I realise that it really doesn't matter. Katniss has stolen my heart, and in return she's given me hers.
They drive us through the streets in a car with blackened windows, and the train's waiting for us. We barely have time to say good-bye to Cinna and Portia, although we'll see them in a few months, when we tour the districts for a round of victory ceremonies. It's the Capitol's way of reminding people that the Hunger Games never really go away. We'll be given a lot of useless plaques, and everyone will have to pretend they love us.
The train begins moving and we're plunged into night until we clear the tunnel and we can finally breathe easy.
Effie is accompanying us back and Haymitch, too, of course. We eat an enormous dinner and settle into silence in front of the television to watch a replay of the interview. I begin to think of the life Katniss and I will have back in District 12. I just want to spend every moment possible with her, for the rest of my life. Katniss excuses herself, and by the time she comes back, she looks completely like the girl I fell in love with. Her hair is in its signature braid, she's washed off the make up that only ever masked her beauty, and she's wearing normal trousers and a shirt.
She comes back to join us, and I put my arm around her shoulder again.
When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we're allowed to go outside for some fresh air. Katniss and I walk along hand in hand. We don't need to talk we've been through so much together. I spot a cluster of pretty pink and white flowers, so I stop to collect them for her. When I give them to her, she acts pleased, but it's as if she's trying to hide something in her eyes. A slight frown comes over her face.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Nothing," She says, and we carry on walking. I jump slightly as Haymitch lays a hand on Katniss's back, and speaks in a low voice.
"Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay." He walks back to the train, and I notice that Katniss is avoiding my eyes. I start to get an anxious feeling in my stomach, I need to get to the bottom of this.
"What's he mean?" I ask.
"It's the Capitol. They didn't like our stunt with the berries," She blurts out, but I still don't understand.
"What? What are you talking about?" I ask.
"It seemed too rebellious. So, Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn't make it worse," She says.
"Coaching you? But not me," I say.
"He knew you were smart enough to get it right," She says, still not looking me in the eye. I'm starting to understand what she's talking about.
"I didn't know there was anything to get right," I say. "So, what you're saying is, these last few days and then I guess . . . back in the arena . . . that was just some strategy you two worked out."
"No. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him in the arena, could I?" She stammers.
"But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn't you?" I say. She bites her lip, "Katniss?" I drop her hand and step back. It's like a stone has dropped in to my stomach.
"It was all for the Games," I say. "How you acted." The realisation dawns on me. She hasn't given me her heart at all. It was on loan, for the cameras. I can see our idyllic future dissolving before my eyes.
"Not all of it," She says, and I notice that the grip on her flowers has tightened.
"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" I say. She might has well have ripped my still beating heart out of my chest. The heartbreak actually begins to feel like a physical pain in my chest.
"I don't know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get," She says. I wait for more of an explanation because that can't be it. But nothing more comes.
"Well, let me know when you work it out," I say, trying unsuccessfully to keep the pain out of my voice. I turn and leave her there, and slowly make my way back to the train.
I don't want to see anyone, so I go straight back to me room and lock the door. I sit on the edge of my bed for a few moments, taking deep shuddering breaths. Then, before I can stop myself, the tears come streaming down my face. I lie down on the bed, and allow my body to be overcome with massive shaking sobs. For a week, I had thought that I had captured the feelings of the girl I have loved since we were five. It's the happiest feeling that I've ever known, and now it's been snatched away from me.
Effie knocks on my door but I ignore her. I can't face being around people at the moment. I feel humiliated; I poured my heart out to her, thinking she had the same feelings. But no, I've been deluding myself. Of course it's Gale that she wants to go home to, I'm going to have to adjust to life on my own.
I go to the bathroom and see what damage I've done to my face. My eyes are swollen and puffy, from the hours of crying, my face red and blotchy. I splash my face with water, get undressed and climb in to bed.
She doesn't come to me that night. I'm back in the arena, holding the hand of the girl Cato killed as she dies. The faces of all the dead tributes flash in front of me. I try to tell them that I'm sorry but the words don't seem to come.
I don't go to breakfast the next day either, I want to pro-long the moment until I have to face Katniss. I need to make myself appear emotionless, and I try to push her from my mind. I see District 12 in the distance, and I finally leave my room.
I see her standing by the door, and I give her a curt nod. The pain in my chest starts. I hate acting like this towards her, but I try to tell myself that it's for the best.
So we just stand there silently, watching our grimy little station rise up around us. Through the window, I can see the platform's thick with cameras. Everyone will be eagerly watching our homecoming. I extend my hand to her, and she looks at me unsure.
"One more time? For the audience? I say in a hollow voice.
She takes my hand tightly, and I know right there that I'll never be able to switch off my feelings for her, my soul has been blinded by her, and she's left scars on my heart that can never be healed.
I hold her hand tightly, never wanting to let go of the girl on fire.