"You're going to leave too, Peeta, and you can't deny it! You told me so!" Katniss started running from him, before she turned to face him, again. This time, though, he could see the tears in her eyes, threatening to fall. "Because everybody leaves me, right? Everybody!"
Without another word, she fled from the street, leaving him stranded, alone.
Again.
"Katniss!" he shouted her name a few seconds later as he started going after her, as quickly as his legs allowed him.
It had now been a little over months since he came back to Twelve, months since he had first seen Katniss after so much time.
Months since he'd been scared at the sight of her.
Peeta Mellark had never believed in ghosts, but the first time he had seen Katniss Everdeen after so many months on his own in the Capitol, he honestly thought he was seeing one. She had appeared on the threshold of her house as he was planting the flowers he had dug up in the woods, the shadow of the fierce woman she used to be.
Gone was the Mockingjay, whose image had led thousands of people to rebel.
Gone was the Girl on Fire, who ignited the revolution's spark.
Gone was Katniss Everdeen, the sixteen year old who volunteered to take her sister's place in the Hunger Games.
Only a shadow remained of what Katniss Everdeen had once been.
She had made so much progress, in the weeks, months since his return.
One step after another, just like a child learning to walk and eat on her own, again.
Everything had started with the evening primroses.
He had meant them as a tribute to the fallen. Not only Prim, but Boggs and Finnick, Castor, the Leegs, to all the unknown faces whose bodies were laying underneath Panem. It had been a way for him to open the ground, to plant something in the hopes of seeing life bloom again.
Most importantly, it had been a way for him to forgive himself for his own losses.
He had never been able to go to his parents' grave - they were all buried under the Meadow, with the thousands who died that fateful night - Seam and Merchants together, at last.
There was just a stone, in the place that was used as a memorial in the new part of town, where he hadn't been able to go to yet.
He had planted the primroses in front of Katniss's house, because they didn't belong in his garden. They would forever be associated with the Everdeens, not something a Mellark would have.
He hadn't expected Katniss to storm out of her house, covered in a dirty blanket, her hair hanging around her face in thick, unkempt bangs, the hollows of her cheeks so profound he could have sworn he could count her bones.
She had whispered or talked in a hoarse voice, he couldn't have said.
"You're back."
Peeta shook his head from the memories of his first day back. He tried to get his breathing even, not used anymore to running on his prosthetic, before he walked the last stairs leading to Katniss's door, knocking on it.
He wasn't able to bring himself to just go in, to invade her privacy, to enter her house without her agreement.
He kept knocking, until his fist hurt.
She didn't answer.
He kept knocking, until night fell.
She didn't answer.
He almost gave up.
Almost.
But he didn't.
He sat on the porch, waiting.
Until the cold air of the night covered him.
He stayed.
His head was leaning against the door, sleep threatening to call him when he heard sounds, tearing him away from his thoughts.
"You're persistent."
Haymitch's voice was rough, his eyes red from the lack of sleep or the excess of alcohol, Peeta couldn't tell. He felt something falling on his body, something warm covering him up. He looked down, surprised to see the old quilt usually thrown onto the back of Haymitch's couch draped over his sitting form. Peeta shifted a little at the contact, the wool soft against the skin of his neck, the warmth of the fabric immediately starting to make him feel better.
"She'll come around, boy."
"Everybody left her." Peeta moved to stand in front of Haymitch.
"Not everybody." Haymitch turned around, as if looking at the moon or the stars, Peeta couldn't tell. "You never left her."
"I did, Haymitch. Time and time again -"
"No you didn't, Peeta." Haymitch's voice was laced with concern, or maybe regret? "We all failed her. Her mother, her sister, her friends … I failed her, time and time again. She locked me out, too, and I just went home, hoping she would open the door the next morning. She never did."
Haymitch started walking, his back still to Peeta.
"I'm the one who failed her the most. You never did." He stopped, sighing before adding. "She'll come around. Don't give up."
Without another word, the old man started walking towards his house, his back hunched by the years or the shame, Peeta couldn't say.
Soon, Haymitch was nothing but a shadow, another one in a world already filled with too many of them.
Under his blanket, his head resting against the door, Peeta fell asleep to the lullabies of the night.
He woke up to the sounds of the town slowly coming out of sleep. The noise of the animals, rummaging around waiting for their share of feed to come. The sounds of the shutters, as they were opened. The honking of vehicles downtown.
Peeta smiled, taking in the sun rising, the smells of the village awakening, the pain in his back from sleeping on the hardwood of Katniss's porch, the comfort of the pillow - he startled at the thought, as he took in the comfortable cushion. When he had fallen asleep the night before, his head was against the door, the only protection against the Septembercold the blanket Haymitch threw on him. There certainly hadn't been any pillow.
He smiled again, a soft grin that threatened to take over his face if he wasn't careful. There was only one other person in Victor's Village, besides him and Haymitch. Only one person who could have given him the pillow.
Who had noticed he hadn't left.
He took his time standing up. His legs were stiff and sore, he was pretty sure he had caught a cold, his back was hurting, yet he couldn't find it in himself to regret sleeping there.
He slowly gathered the pillow before folding the quilt, getting ready to cross the street to head home to take a shower, ready to start this new day.
"You stayed."
Her voice made him jump. He turned around, holding out the pillow for her.
"You didn't have a nightmare."
Her face was fresh, a rare occurrence for Katniss.
"Will you come for breakfast?" she asked, fidgeting with her fingers.
"I need a shower." He needed to massage his hurting stump too, to put some soothing cream on it to ease the pain he was feeling. But that could wait. "I'll come over after."
There would be time for some rest later.