Peeta stands to his feet, reaching down to help me up. Honestly, I just got very lucky. He could have easily gone into one of his fits, and if that had happened, where would we be? I'd probably be choked to death by now, with Peeta still smashing my face in. Either Haymitch or Greasy Sae would have found me, mangled with Peeta freaking out wondering what happened to me.

I shudder at the notion.

Peeta realizes that my thoughts are still dark, and nudges me with his elbow, "Katniss, are you okay?"

I turn my head to look up at him, and smile slightly, one of those reassuring smiles that I have faked so many countless times, "I'm fine. " I smirk, "Especially since you didn't try to kill me."

We begin to walk towards the kitchen as he frowns, "I'm getting better you know. Haymitch and Sae think I will be free of my more threatening flashbacks if we spend more time together. They tell me to watch videos of us in the games and how you saved me so many times. And when I nearly died and Finnick saved me. How happy you were I lived. When I actually think about you and put the facts together, I don't hate you anymore."

I ponder on his words as we walk slowly down the stairs, simultaneously reaching for one another's hand. Peeta does seem to be doing a lot better. I think I have just been too scared to be around him. Scared of what he may try to do to me and also scared to face the scars that have found a home on his body. It's like a mirror to me. I don't want to face what happened any more than I have to. But, we both have scars. Which means it's so much harder to not face the past. Because he is going through what I am. We both need comfort, and it seems we are the only ones able to help each other. When Greasy Sae and her granddaughter come over, they don't know how to begin to heal my wounds. Yes, they lost a lot. But nobody has been through what Peeta and I have been. Nobody that is left to tell about it.

Peeta pulls me into the kitchen after him, motioning me to sit down at the little table Sae set up for me to eat at. I still refuse to eat there, since I don't wish to be out of bed any longer than I have to be most days. You'd think being in bed so often would make me gain weight. If I actually made the effort to eat anything. The few times I went out in the woods depressed me more than I could bear.

Peeta already is making some eggs, as I continue to think in silence. He is so kind to me, even though I am ignoring him for all practical purposes. How have I not lost him already? How has he not left? Sure, he's probably not here for me, but he could have run in the opposite direction of me. Insisted he live elsewhere. But no. He's here, in my kitchen, making me breakfast when all I do is pretend he doesn't exist because it hurts too much to acknowledge his presence.

I blink to make sure he really is here. All the times I nearly lost him have taken their toll. I think to myself that perhaps waking up next to his warm body will help me. Suddenly, that feeling is back. The same feeling I felt in the games when I kissed him. Just the thought of waking up next to him thrills me. It may simply be because I haven't had much human contact in so long, but I find myself sure that if Greasy Sae cuddled up next to me in bed the last feeling I would have is thrill. Despite the fact she comes here daily and forces me to live.

Before I even know it, Peeta is placing a dish of eggs and bacon in front of me, wiping his hands on a cream colored towel and taking a seat across from me.

"Thank you." I whisper. I still haven't gotten used to talking in a normal tone.

Peeta nods, sitting back as he studies me, "You know, your hair is growing out more everyday."

I snicker. What difference does it make if I have hair? I'm still scarred. I'm still damaged. I'm still hideous. What good will hair do? "Thanks," I mutter rather snottily.

He just shrugs. He has a way of being indifferent to my bad attitude. I wonder how he ever loved me.

Loved, I think. Another past tense.

He suddenly jumps to his feet, gripping the table and gritting his teeth. I know what's happening, so I scramble to the other side of the room and fumble for the phone. I need Haymitch to be awake. I need him to answer and come as quickly as he can. I press the speed dial. All I can do is hope he answers and hears and gets the idea.

"Katniss… Katniss run." Peeta growls out in warning.

I shake my head violently as I stand my ground, "No, Peeta. You can overcome this. You know the truth in your heart, Peeta. You know I'll never leave you." I move closer.

Peeta falls to his knees, fighting for control, "You left me in the last arena. You left me to be taken by the Capitol."

I approach him carefully, kneeling down near him, "No Peeta, remember I was just doing as told to help us win. I was trying to protect you." I place a hand on his shoulder gently.

Peeta lashes out and grabs my forearm, squeezing it hard, "You stupid mutt! You dirty, filthy mutt." He grabs my neck with his other hand, squeezing it just as hard.

I brace myself for his strength to snap my neck. Suffocate me. Something. But what he does takes me at more of a shock than any violence he could have committed against me.

His lips crush against mine, his anger and frustration heating the kiss. This isn't a kiss out of romance or love. It's one out of desperation and pleading. He bites my lip, drawing blood yet sending heated pulses throughout my whole body. I let my body melt, winding my arms loosely around his body. I allow myself to collapse to the floor, allowing him to see I am completely at his mercy. I am not going to fight back. I am still terrified he will kill me, but something tells me to let him ride this one out.

He follows me down, his lips softening and his grip loosening. His lips are now passionate rather than angry. He kisses me for a good minute, until his body falls beside mine.

We are both out of breath and exhausted, and he takes my hand in his and begins to caress it.

"I'm s-sorry," he pants.

I can feel the blood trickling down the side of my face, "It's okay, Peeta. You got through it by yourself. I'm so proud of you." I look over at him and brush a hair off his forehead.

He returns the gaze, "No, I didn't do it alone. You did exactly what I needed you to do. You stayed calm and relaxed. Thank you."

I smile lightly, wiping the blood off my lips as I sit up to lean over his face, "We got through it together. As we always do." I lean down to rest my lips upon his and I can feel him smiling against me.