CHAPTER THREE - ANSWERS

Katniss,

So I'm in the Capitol. Dr A told me to write letters to you but I thought it was stupid. I told him I wasn't going to, but let's face it, it probably isn't that stupid.

I don't really know what to think, because I have so many questions only you can answer. I tried asking Haymitch a few, but he only answered his phone once and he was drunk. They told me he ripped his phone out of the wall again.

I'm starting to get these memories from years and years ago, like when I was ten or something. Just glances of you really. but I don't know if they're real. They feel so precious, I want them to be real. Are they?

Please answer when Dr A calls you next time.

Thanks, really.

Peeta

I read it quickly while Peeta takes his olive bread out of the oven. He sets it on the table and uses his hand to swipe away the steam. He then takes out a chopping board I didn't know I had, and puts the bread on that. In small, swift movements he cuts even slices. Steam clouds rise from each slice and when he's done he organises them in a circle on the edge of the plate. He takes out a tiny bowl and butter, and dollops a heap of the creamy substance into the bowl and steadys it in the middle of the bread. He picks up the plate and a knife and leads me into the living room. I follow suit, astounded at how quick, planned and precise his work is.

He sits down on the sofa and beckons me to sit next to him. I agree silently and sit awkwardly on the end of the sofa.

"We can talk first." He says, "The bread will take a while to cool down."

"Ok." I whisper, and we sit in silence for what seems like forever.

"I'll start then." I nod stiffly, and wait. "Where do I begin? When I first went to the Capitol, everyone was telling me how lucky I was. To be alive, to know you, to love you, to be loved by you. But I didn't feel lucky. After everything...I wanted death. Or to talk to you. But you never answered your phone."

"So I'm the equivalent of death am I?"

"That's not what I meant-"

"Peeta. It's ok." I laugh, and loose some tension in my muscles.

"Right. Ok. So yeah...Dr Aurelius would always ask me these questions about how I felt about you. I didn't really know. But I want to know what I used to feel. Was I in love with you? Was it all an act? Did I even like you? I think I did, but..."

"Ok. You liked me. Before the first games we never spoke but you said you loved me before the games. You saw me. You knew me. Do you know the story of you with the bread?" I laugh at the thought of the Capitol changing that memory, but then I could've changed it.

"Yeah, I do."

"Well yeah. I think you did it because you loved me. The whole love thing for the games was your idea anyway. I think you loved me."

He takes a while to digest it all, but then he asks; "Did you love me?"

When I reluctantly agreed to all this, this question was the one I wanted to avoid nearly most of all. Why? Because I don't know. Through the whole thing I was nearly completely unsure. Love wasn't my favourite topic, but I loved his company like you love a friend. Whether it was ever more...

"Honestly? Maybe. Probably. Once. I don't know. Too much has happened for me to remember or know, or anything. I'm sorry, but that's not exactly my ideal question. I was prepared to marry you, yeah, but I had to. I wasn't the most unfortunate person in the world, and I could've got someone a whole lot worse. But it doesn't matter, does it? It'd be impossible for you to love me now, wouldn't it?"

"Love is an exciting thing. Anything could happen. But thanks. It felt like I loved you, but I wasn't sure. It felt like you loved me too."

At this last comment I freeze. I gulp to keep silent and stare straight ahead of me. He doesn't pry anymore, but eventually he asks;

"So what do you want to ask me?"

It all comes out in a rush; "I'm fine tonight, honestly. It can wait. A few days probably more. How about then? Or anytime really? Maybe you should go now, I mean...yeah." He looks a bit confused but stands up anyway.

I walk him to the door and he waves goodbye. I slowly close the door as he walks away into the early evening. We never touched the bread. I never asked my questions. I never told him that I had so badly wanted to open his letters and call him and tell him I missed him and wanted him to be home and how I wanted the old him back and could I have him back and could he love me so I'm not alone. Most of all I want him to tell me he loves me, even if he doesn't love me.

"I'm so sorry." I whisper and a single teardrop makes its way down my face. I lean against the door and slide down it, fearing any future communication with Peeta. I don't want to know a Peeta that doesn't love me. I want him to love me so I can fall in love and it'll be ok.

But he's not the old Peeta. This one has been through so much.

Too much.

A/N:

Hi guys! Hope you're liking the story so far. There's a song that gave me a lot of inspiration for this; The Weekend - Wicked Games. I prefer the cover by Coeur De Pirate (Pirate Heart in English), which is the one I listened to for this chapter. If you want to co-write any chapters just tell me in a review or PM, I'd be happy to as right now I have literally nothing planned ahead. Which I shoudln't be telling readers but hey...

Keep reading!

-Angeline