I am so happy you liked this story! I know it took me a while to upload, but I hope you can forgive and continue reading it!
After his figure was lost to the swirling fall leaves, I croaked out my first words since I yelled at Buttercup back when I first arrived.
"Damn." It probably wasn't the most appropriate thing to say, but it basically summed up how I was feeling. Because, somehow, in the five minutes Peeta had been here, I realized just how deprived I was of human contact with someone other than the woman making my breakfasts. Besides, Greasy Sae didn't really count; I couldn't talk to her like I could Peeta, Gale, or- I stopped myself before even thinking her name, determined to keep any last shreds of hope alive.
Legs groaning as I stood up, I turned to the raggedy cat how had reappeared on the kitchen table and muttered "It's all or nothing, I guess." This received a hiss, probably because he was happy not hearing my voice.
The shower seemed like the most logical place for me to start, and even though it was up the mountain of stairs, I dragged my self up anyways. Cautiously facing the small mirror hanging above the sink, I cringed. Pale, pasty skin. Large, dark circles under wild, tired eyes. Peeta was also right about my weight, though I wasn't much lighter than I was when I lived in the Seam.
I stood in the shower long after it turned cold, letting the icy water run over my body as if it could wash away my thoughts. Eventually, with shaking hands, I turned the water off. Redressing in the clothes I had been wearing obviously wasn't an option, so I numbly walked into my bedroom to the dresser and opened a door. Everything at the top of the drawers seemed to be clothes my prep team had made me. Angrily, I threw them onto the floor for reminding me, yet again, of things I would rather not remember. Finally, I got down to my plain trousers and shirts, and while pulling them on, I heard a small thud of something hitting the floor. I didn't remember having anything being in the drawers, nor actually putting anything there myself, so I curiously reached down to pick up the object wrapped in a silvery cloth.
A small, round item lay resting in the palm of my hand. Peeta's pearl. I didn't know whether I wanted to cry, or throw the token of the Quarter Quell across the room, so instead, I shoved it the bottom of my pocket, rewrapped in the parachute.
Finally, after re-braiding my hair, I made my way back to the kitchen as the sun was setting. Returning to my chair, I settled down. Peeta eventually returned with bread as promised, and with a thud, he placed the on the table, raising and eyebrow as if daring me to either speak or eat.
Clearing my throat, I'm pretty sure I took him by surprise by responding. It wasn't much, but in all honesty, I was just trying to come up with a way to avoid eating and return to my silence. I may have been deprived of human contact, but I sure as hell didn't miss it.
"We don't have to talk if you don't want to. You just have to eat." But eating is the last thing on my mind, I just want to sleep off the thoughts of mutts and death that Peeta brings. And suddenly, it's all I can do not to cry, something I have repressed for so long. Swallowing, I rip of some bread and nibble on it with the hop that Peeta will assume I'll finish and leave.
But you know what happens when you assume. I assumed eating berries was an innocent way of avoiding death, that 'marrying' Peeta would be enough to fool Snow, that Cinna's dress would have no consequences, that I could have both Peeta and Gale. That I could keep Prim alive. Voice quavering, legs barely supporting me as I stood, I whispered "Peeta, I can't do this," and fled the kitchen. Up the stairs, into my room, I flung myself onto the bed, curling into a ball. I tried to take deep, cleansing breaths, but what came out were shaking puffs of air. Why did I fool myself? Clean myself up just for Peeta? Leave the door unlocked for him? Why did I work on solitude for this long, just to bring it crashing down? It felt as if the entire world has just caved in on me, leaving it hard to breath and even harder to hold off crying, screaming, and yelling.
Somehow, though, I managed, rocking back and forth, taking deep, shaking breaths. In, out, in, out. Back, forward, back, forward. Waiting to hear Peeta giving up and leaving, the sound of him shutting the door. But he doesn't. At first I thought maybe I didn't hear him, but I remember those bug, lumbering footsteps he takes…
Kind of like the ones I hear coming up the stairs now. Hasn't he done enough? Of course, he doesn't realize that he's making everything worse. The footsteps stop and he stands in my doorway, a look of concern in his eyes. I stare back, my own eyes begging to be left alone. Just like when we were fighting in the Capitol, Haymitch would want me to bring Peeta closer, not push him away. Luckily for me, Haymitch is most likely passed out drunk on his kitchen floor, so I don't move out of my position.
Apparently for Peeta, this is an invitation to come closer. He again walks slowly, like I'll pounce on him at any minute, when he reaches my bed. Still cautious, probably, I realize now, for my own benefit rather than his, he eased himself down next to me. Peeta gently pulled me over so I was on his lap and resting against his chest, and I had no power left to fight it.
"Just like old times," he said.
Peeta's arms too strong for me to break away, I shrank even smaller against him. "No. It's not. And it never will be," I said solemnly, hoping he couldn't hear my ragged breaths.
He did. Arms wrapped tighter around me as if holding me together, Peeta said "Katniss, you know it's okay to cry. I won't think any less of you." My next lungful of air hitched in my throat, but I managed to swallow down a sob as I shook my head. "Then yell," Peeta suggested. "Yell and scream at me for all I did in the Capitol and District 13." But that's not what I want to do, either. I just want to forget. Forget the Arenas, the Capitol, District 13, Gale, my mother, and especially Prim.
Again I shook my head. "Peeta, I could n-ne-never!" And that's when I couldn't hold back any longer. The tears that had built up over the past month, or even perhaps from the first arena, finally spilled over. I turned my head into Peeta's chest, muffling my sobs. I cried and cried, and Peeta let me, remaining quiet and stroking my hair.
Eventually, my tears dried out and we both fell asleep. I realized that crying was what I needed, and maybe it would help me move on a little. And with Peeta, it may not be like old times, but it could be our future, and I have to remind my self to keep an open mind.
Even if it doesn't last long.
To Ramen noodles, I also have a special note in response to you're lovely review.
I realise that this does break some of FF's rules, but in the long run, does it really hurt anyone? And if there are so many other MJ epilogue's out there, go read one of them instead of complaining about mine.