Chapter 1 (Part 2) Peeta's POV
It only took a few minutes for Katniss to eat her steak, which was surprising considering her body had become stick-like. I thought she would have eaten slower. Just as I expected Katniss left the little piece of steak there was left and covered her mouth, running to the bathroom down the hall. I shot a look of concern to Haymitch and he gave out a slight chuckle, taking another bite into his steak. It kind of pissed me off that it made him laugh, but I didn't argue it with him and I ran to the bathroom. I knocked on the door and could hear that she was throwing up. "Katniss, are you okay in there?" I said giving a little knock. "Yeah," even though it was a simple response, I could hear the pain in her voice. The pain wasn't from throwing up, it was the reason behind the throwing up, and the reason she couldn't eat. I opened the door and saw her lying on the ground; even though her body was frail and broken she was still beautiful in my eyes, although it did pain me to see her doing this to herself. I leaned down and moved the hair out of her face. She just looked up at me. She didn't get up to walk away or even yell at me for intruding, it was like she wanted me there. For the first time, she wanted me. She reached up to me with her weak arms, like a child would to their parents. I scooped her up into my arms and carried her up to her room. I cleaned the remaining vomit off her face and when she asked me to change her into a new pair of clothes, I didn't object. While I was changing her I could see all the scars from the arena, all the scars I wanted to kiss, to make the pain go away. But I knew no amount of medicine or kisses could take away the mental and emotional pain these scars left her with.
Sleep started to drag her under, I could tell because she was trying to force her eyes open, but they kept closing. "Thank you, for taking care of me." She whispered while the moonlight glistened through the window, lighting up her angelic face. My eyes were so mesmerized by the fire still burning in hers that I got distracted and before I could say you're welcome, she went on. "Haymitch, he was right when he said I don't deserve you," a crack in her voice let me know that she was holding back tears. I wanted her to cry. Not in a mean way, I hate seeing her upset. If she cried she could let out all the pain she has endured because this whole time I've known Katniss, I've never seen her cry. No wonder why she hasn't been taking care of herself, the pain of everything has been eating at her. A single tear rolled down her cheek, "Katniss, you've done so much for Panem, the people of district 12, and me. You deserve everything the world can possibly give you. Including me. You have to understand that I would never let anyone else have me except you." When I'm done speaking I can feel her fingers slip between mine and when I look down, everything I'm feeling is true, she's holding my hand. A slight tingle rushes through my chest and I want to smile, but I keep my emotions contained for her sake. I look down at my fingers, intertwined with hers and when I look back at her, she's caught my gaze again. That beautiful fire still burning in her grey eyes, the same captivating seam eyes her father had when he came into the bakery singing. She gave me the same look she always did when I would spend nights with her on the train before the Quarter Quell, the look that says, stay with me. So I do. I get into bed with her and my arms lock around her pale, scarred, but radiant body. She lays her head on my chest and when I look down at her face, there's a smile painted across from cheek to cheek, she's listening to my heart beat.
When we woke up the next morning, everything seemed different. I mean, she was still the same old broken, quiet, sick Katniss. The only difference was that she let me take care of her and she wasn't rejecting any of my meals. A couple weeks went by until Katniss could actually eat normal again without having to throw up, and her face was even looking a little chubbier. At night Katniss wouldn't sleep unless I tucked her in and told her how my day was at the bakery, even if I was having a bad day, I always told her it was good. I never wanted to worry her because she was already going through enough. Katniss seemed to be getting happier, or so Haymitch thought. Sometimes when I brought her cookies she would smile, but I knew it was just her way of saying thank you, she wasn't actually happy. The sun had set already when I knocked on her door, to do the routine we always did. I bring her cookies, tell her stories about my family and when I was a child, tell her about the bakery, and then tuck her in. But today was different. I knocked again. "Katniss." I yelled up to her window, throwing a small rock light enough to not crack it. At this point my heart was racing and I was getting worried, so I did the only thing I could think of, I broke the fence lock which led to her backyard and got through the back door. She always left it unlocked and slightly open incase Buttercup wanted to play outside. I took a few steps into the kitchen when I heard footsteps and a bang upstairs, it sounded like Katniss' fragile body hit the ground. I immediately jolted up the stairs, calling her name, praying that she didn't do something stupid like drug herself to death. I swung open her bedroom door and called her name again, I could hear her breathing heavily in the bathroom. "Peeta," Her voice hadn't sounded that weak since she collapsed from being malnourished. When I went into the bathroom my heart stopped. I got the same feeling I did the day Katniss came back with my medicine in the arena, when her head was bleeding. But this feeling was worse, and there was way more blood.