CuteBrunetteThatLovesHG192: It won't be, sorry!

Nixonb5071: Thank you!

Ilovethemanofsteel: Oh, okay, good!

Ordinarly Beautiful: Merp?

*****DISCLAIMER*****

Flavius: Oh, oh, let me say it, Lovely. Please, let me say it!

Me: Fine, have at it.

Flavius: I own the Hunger Games! *Wack* I'm only joking! Suzanne Collins owns all rights!

Previously:

With that he held his arms open and I crawled into his lap. I felt like a child again, but this time my dad was actually holding me. A part of me felt like I was able to trust him, but another part felt like it wasn't safe to let my guard down. I didn't let myself doubt his actions even though, in the back of my mind, I know that trusting him would somehow backfire on me.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Just An Act
112213
LovelyUnderland

(KPOV)

My father allowed me to go back to the mansion and collect anything I wanted to bring back to District 12. I didn't take much though, as I only grabbed a few outfits and the pin that Madge gave me. I was given very little time to say goodbye to the prep teams before being hauled away to the train.

As the Capitol becomes more distant I release a breath that I didn't know I was holding. I've said it many times, but I'm finally free. Quickly, I run to my room and change out of the yellow puff of a dress. Slipping into comfortable jeans and a peach blouse, I make my way to the dining room where Effie, Haymitch, Peeta and I watch the replay of our last interview.

When they play my father's interview, only the beginning is shown. Apparently he dealt with the commentators because Naomi and Asher are no longer the speakers. We were told that they are on leave. At this news, all eyes are on me.

While Effie looks oblivious as always, chiming in about how she hopes they won't be gone too long, Peeta looks paler than when he was in the arena and Haymitch looks conflicted. The way Haymitch shakes his head at me makes me feel guilty and… I hate it.

The more I look at Haymitch, the more I begin to realize what he's confused about. He isn't sure whether or not I am really like my father. It's my fault that Naomi and Asher are being tortured, but at the same time I did it because I felt like I had to. I would've been harassed even more by reporters if damage control wasn't done.

However, I did it for my own selfish needs, I suppose. Thinking so much about this makes me feel queasy. When the train stops for fuel, I jump at the chance to get some fresh air. Not only to get rid of the nauseating feeling, but to clear my mind.

Peeta trails behind me out of the train which annoys me. The boy is like a leech. I can't get him off of me. A part of me enjoys his company, but another part is still terrified. Every time I try to hate him or distance myself he does something that makes my heart leap. It's unnerving.

"What's wrong?" he asks, handing me a bouquet of pink-and-white wild flowers.

I can't bring myself to tell him that they are the tops of wild onions. Peeta looks like a child who has just tied his own shoes without help. This is what I am talking about. At first, I was annoyed at him for following me and then he hands me onion tops. It's confusing.

"Nothing. I'm fine," I say a little too quickly.

Peeta knows very well that I'm lying, but doesn't comment further. We walk along the train track in silence, hand-in-hand. Truth be told, neither of us really know what to say. I'm startled by Haymitch when he puts his hand on my shoulder. I had no idea he was even following us. When he speaks, his voice is low and soft.

"Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone."

When he walks back to the train Peeta turns to me. "What did he mean by that?"

Why Peeta asks this, I don't know. He knew what was going on. I don't think about it when I answer.

"The Capitol and my father didn't like that I showed them up," I say.

"Wait, what? What do you mean 'showed them up'?" he says in a light voice.

"The berry bit. It was too rebellious. Haymitch has been coaching me these last few days. He didn't want me to make it worse by saying something stupid," I say.

"Why hasn't he been coaching me?" Peeta asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, he said that he didn't need to. He knew that you were smart enough to get it right," I shrug as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"What would there be to get right? I didn't know there was anything to-" he snaps his mouth shut mid-sentence.

The wheels turning in his head are almost visible. Then, it clicked– for him and for me. It was all an act and he had no idea. The whole time, he was ignorant to what I was doing.

"Peeta, I- " I begin only to be cut off.

"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? It was all just an act?"

The look on his face showed betrayal, pure betrayal. However, the look in his eyes was much worse for me. All I could see was pain. Heartbreak. For Peeta Mellark, it was no act. Peeta Mellark loved me and, in his opinion, everything was now an act. But was it?

No. Because the feelings I had in the cave were real. The feelings I had when I thought I would lose him were real. But did I love him like he loved me?

"No, Peeta, in the arena I couldn't even talk to him. I– I just wanted to survive. I needed to survive, but I couldn't let you die. Besides, Haymitch couldn't tell me what to do in the Games," I say, tripping over my words.

"No, but you knew what to do. You knew what he wanted and you did it. You both did. Didn't you?" he accused.

I bite down on my lip because he's right.

"Katniss? Was it just an act?" when I look down, he drops my hand.

"It was all for the Games. You knew how I felt, but the feelings you showed weren't real. It was all an act," he says, the pain clear in his voice.

"N-no! Not all of it was, Peeta! I'm just really confused and the closer we get to District 12, the more confused I get," I say, reaching out for his hand but he yanks it away, like mine was a hot coal that he had accidentally touched.

"Well, let me know when you figure it all out," he says harshly, turning to leave. Before he goes, he looks at me over his shoulder.

"How much of it was an act, Katniss? Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know. A better question would be is what are you and I going to do back in District 12?" he says.

I know that it's stupid, but the fact that he didn't say 'we' hurts.

"I don't know," I say, "I guess we just try to forget."

He looks back at the train and says, "I don't want to forget," then retreats to the doors.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me here alone," I say, even though he can no longer hear me.