Dear Katniss,

You've been gone for a day and I already feel like I might lose my mind. Haymitch got me unfathomably drunk last night. I spent most of this morning on his bathroom floor puking in ways I didn't know a human could puke. I don't know how to do this. Everything reminds me of you. Even the taste of alcohol vomit reminded me of our joint night in the bathroom after the card reading. So now I'm sitting at his table, writing you this letter.

That was a terrible opener. Don't worry about me. I am fine. Right now you need to focus on you.

I know you are probably trying to toughen up. Numb yourself. It's what I did at first too. Just remember there are those of us out here that love you. Not for being the Mockingjay. We love you, Katniss. I hope when you get these letters you know that you are always on our minds. That you didn't just slip from our lives unnoticed. I think about you all the time. We talk about you all the time.

How are you? Are they treating you well? What is your day like? Please remember to eat. You need your strength in there.

I don't know if I should tell you this. I don't want to give you some kind of false hope, but I'm going to Paylor. I will sleep on her doorstep if I have to, but I'm not leaving until she talks to me.

I don't know.

Yours always,
Peeta


The next few letters are mostly the same. Peeta tells me about his day. Asks about mine. Asks if I've made any friends. Peeta sleeps outside Paylor's office. He's become pals with the security guard that's supposed to kick him out at the close of business. Peeta brings her cookies in hopes of bribing her. She takes the cookies but not his counsel.

Haymitch tries to stay with him one night but his back cramps. He ends up going back to his room and feeling terrible about himself. Not that he admitted that to Peeta, but it was obvious the next day when Haymitch banged on Paylor's door like a madman until he was cuffed and dragged away. They deposited him in his room with a warning.

There's a whole letter about Annie's pregnancy. He clearly wants to make me smile describing Annie's waddle and Finnick's incessant doting.

Finnick is out schmoozing with the people. Trying to get the public on my side. He doesn't find it difficult. Most people want me released, Peeta says. No one wants the Mockingjay jailed. But releasing me could be political suicide for Paylor. Undoing the first judicial action of our new nation could undermine the foundation of our court system for years to come her advisors tell Peeta.

It's the right thing to do, Peeta always replies.


Katniss,

I got your letter (if you can call it that). Well I have a one word response to your one word demand.

No.

Peeta

P.S. You're not getting rid of me that easy.


I jump ahead a few. The next letter I open is a drawing of the Meadow. There's a tiny person off in the distance. I think it's me. I'd have liked this. I would have hung it on my cell wall. I let my fingers trace the sketch until I accidentally smudge the graphite. I set it open on my night stand and go to the next letter.


Dear Katniss,

I didn't want to write you this, but Haymitch is making me. Before you read this, just know that you don't need to worry about me while you are in there. Just focus on you.

Last night one of the guards found me sleepwalking. I wasn't triggered or anything. I didn't hurt anyone. But I guess I was totally out of it so they brought me to Haymitch's room and he and Effie tried to ease me back to reality. I don't know why I'm even telling you this. Nothing happened. I'm fine.

I just don't sleep without you.

I hope you are sleeping, Katniss.

Love,
Peeta


The next letter I open is long. Pages and pages. He draws in the margins. I look over and find Peeta is already sleeping beside me. I set that one aside, unread. I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. The one that follows it is short.


K,

Why?

P


I stare at the word for a while. I've never offered him why. I've never even offered him sorry. I've just taken more than I given him in return.


Katniss,

I'm sorry about the last letter. I meant it more for me than you. I just figured if I wrote it down I'd feel better, but before my hands even realized what they were doing I'd mailed it.

I guess it's out in the open now.

I'm mad at you. I don't know how not to be mad at you. But I miss you more. We don't have to talk about it, not ever if you don't want to. I just want to talk about something. Anything. I just want to talk to you.

Please write me.

Peeta


He finally gets to meet with Paylor and is kicked out of the Capitol. He puts a clipping from a newspaper in one envelope. It's an editorial about why the president should pardon me.


Dear Katniss,

I miss you. It goes without saying. I miss you so much.

I'm going back to Twelve on the morning train. Instead of sleeping, I'm writing you this letter because I am absolutely panicked about leaving you here. I know you probably feel alone anyway. I don't know if thinking of me nearer to you brings you any kind of comfort at all, but it does me.

I'm so sorry. I wouldn't go if I could think of a way around this, but Paylor said if I want her to consider my words I have to do her this favor. Her inauguration is next month and she wants me and Haymitch gone immediately. Annie and Finnick are staying though. We're not abandoning you.

I guess we'll know soon.

I wish you'd write. I want to know if you are okay. If they are treating you alright.

Yours,
Peeta


Katniss,

Being home is strange. Everything feels the same, but empty.

I'm thinking maybe you're not allowed to write me back. Maybe you can't be trusted with a pencil.

He draws a silly face.

I would trust you with a pencil.

Love,
Peeta


I stare at the long letter on my lap, unread. I move on to the next one instead.


Dear Katniss,

I rode a bicycle today. One of the kids in town has one. It was pretty ridiculous. I couldn't really feel the pedal with my foot but Delly kept her hands on my seat so I didn't fall.

I think I might buy a bike.

I want to ask how you are but I don't want you to think I'm forcing anything.

I just want you to know that I'm thinking of you and miss you and hope you are OK.

Love,
Peeta


I look at the long letter and sigh before I pick it up. I expect it to be about us, about our fight, about my lies, but it's not. It's out of order, too. Clearly he wrote this when he was in 12. I stare at the words.


Dear Katniss,

Today is my mom's birthday. It's weird having a birthday for someone who is gone. I made a cake, which felt good in the moment but then when I frosted it I didn't know what to write on it and suddenly everything about it just felt wrong. Rye came over and wanted to stick a candle in it, but I refused. We had a big fight and he stormed out of the house. I brought it down the Market and made Sae take it.

I miss my mom. Maybe it doesn't make sense but I really do. I know she was awful to me. I'm not even sure she loved me at all. But I miss her. I feel like all I do is miss people.

He writes paragraphs about his mom, his dad, his brother. He draws little pictures in the margins – a bundle of cookies, his dad's silhouette, a tiny handprint.

Rye refuses to face anything. He just wants to pretend to be happy all the time. Last night he and Delly came over for dinner and he passed out on the couch watching some singing show on TV. (TV has gotten really weird now that it's not all Capitol propaganda, by the way).

Anyway, Delly and I stayed up talking and she said Rye wants to leave 12. He's mentioned it in passing a couple times, dropping hints every once in a while. He pretends like it's Delly. Says she wants to garden and can't do it here, but really it's him. He wants to go.

I guess he should be able to if he wants to.

I'm just tired of being everyone's last choice.

I should go to bed.

Peeta


I set the long letter down. It makes me sad in such a visceral way. If I'd read any of these, I'd have written back. I just didn't have the strength to read them. I wanted him to move on. I wanted to curl up I in the corner of my cell and die.

There are two letters left. The last one I received in my cell and the one Finnick gave me on the train home.


Katniss,

I made cheese buns out of habit this morning and forced them on Haymitch. He literally won't eat anything but what I am make him. It's like I'm living next to a child. Still no word from Paylor but her inauguration is tomorrow. Maybe something good will happen.

I miss you. It's hard never hearing from you. Maybe after tomorrow it will be a moot point anyway. Maybe you'll be here.

You're welcome here, you know. If you want to stay, you are welcome here. In case you were wondering where things stood between us. You are welcome here. You are wanted – in my arms, in my home, in my life.

I know you aren't one for declarations, Katniss, but I love you now. I love you still. I have always loved you, even when I forgot how. If she lets you - come home to me.

And if not, I love you anyway and I'll write you tomorrow.

Peeta


The last envelope doesn't have a postmark on it. Finnick told me it was from Peeta and I wasn't supposed to open it until I got home.

I rip the seal and slip my fingers inside, but there's no letter. I pull the casing apart and notice he's written on the inside of the envelope.

When you are ready, I am too.

There's not letter in this envelope.

It's a ring.

The ring.

My ring.

The last time I saw it was when I looped it around Peeta's neck in Tigris's basement, before we went on the battlefield. I never saw it in the house. I assumed it was another casualty of war, but no. I've had it this whole time. And it hasn't been on my hand so Peeta's assumed it meant I wasn't ready. That I wasn't sure.

But I am sure. I've been sure for a long time. No more running away from each other. I hold the ring in my palm and drop back into bed. I curl into Peeta's sleeping arms. He wakes blurrily, nuzzling his chin into my neck.

"Peeta?" I whisper.

"Hm?" he asks sleepily.

"I'm so sorry," I say, my voice catching in my throat. He opens his eyes and I lay on my back, looking up at him. "I am so so so sorry," I repeat. "I was out of my mind with grief and I hurt you so badly. After all we'd been through I hurt you so badly."

I imagine what it might have been like had our roles been reversed. Had my mind been scrambled and my entire family killed. Had I had only one person I could trust, and they betrayed that trust in such an unbearable way. Would I recover from that? Would I forgive him?

He's always been a better person than me.

"It's over now, right? No more lies?" he asks softly. I nod, tears burning my eyes. "If we hurt, we hurt together. If we plot, we plot together. If we run, we run together."

"You're stuck with me, Mellark," I whisper. He smiles and drops his mouth down to mine. The kiss is soft, a brushing of lips.

"Good," he breathes on my mouth before dropping back into the bed and pulling me into him. It's barely a minute before he's asleep again, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel serenely happy. I feel more at peace than I have in my entire life. I open my palm and stare at the ring – its twisting branches and milky pearl. I remember the beach, and the train, and our room. I remember falling apart and putting each other back together. I remember every complicated, aching step that got us here.

I slip the ring on my finger and let the night lull me under.