Tell me it's nothing

Try to convince me

That I'm not drowning

Oh let me tell you I am

Katniss

It must've been around noon as I woke up 'cause someone was calling my name. I didn't answer. It sounded like Hazelle but I wouldn't and couldn't talk to anyone now. I just buried myself deeper in my warm, secure cave. A few hours later, something woke me up again. Someone was scratching on the cabinet door, I pushed it open a bit and Buttercup climbed into the closet. We had actually become friends because we both had dedicated our lives to Prim and lost her. We both weren't able to protect her. My arms slid around the soft fur and Buttercup curled up on my chest.

My own scream woke me up. I was surrounded by complete darkness and another strangled cry escaped me. I was all tangled up in something and there was something heavy and hot lying on my chest. My first thought was 'Mutts' and my heart skipped a beat. I tried to free myself in blind panic as a startled meow stopped me. Buttercup. Right. I forced myself to breathe calmly and reached for the closet door. I carefully pushed it open and Buttercup jumped off my chest. I fought the still raging waves of panic as I freed myself piece by piece off my clothes. I really should find me a better hiding place. Exhausted and shaky I got out of the closet and walked right over the window. I pushed it open and sucked in big gulps of fresh night air. My hands dug into the still warm wood of my window frame. I deeply inhaled the fresh air, filling my burning lungs as I tried to get rid of the images of my last dream with every breath I took. It wasn't one of my usual nightmares. This one was worse. Because it was actually a beautiful dream. I had dreamed of Peeta, my Peeta, who held me and kissed me and looked at me with that look that promised me that he would never love anyone else as much as he loved me. I leaned my burning forehead against the window frame, my hair and my nightgown were soaked in sweat and clinging to my body. With jittery movements, I tugged at the wet cloth, pulled it over my head and dropped it carelessly. Then I pulled my hair up and rolled it into a loose bun in my neck. The warm floorboards creaked softly under my feet as I walked to my dresser and pulled out a ribbon to tie it up.

Someone had put fresh water in a bowl next to my bed, along with a glass and a plate of potatoes, on which Buttercup just feasted. I pulled one of my mother's handkerchiefs from the drawer and dipped it in the cool water. With a sigh I ran the wet cloth over my burning neck and shoulders. "Mhmm." I hummed in content and bit my lip. That was much better. The water ran over my bare back in fine pearls. By now it didn't mind being naked at all. My prep team had undressed me so many times that it no longer bothered me. Besides, who should see me anyway? Over and over I dipped the cloth in the bowl and let the water run over my shoulders, my arms and hands. I watched the drops shimmering on my skin in the moonlight. My thoughts still revolved around Peeta. Around the kisses from my dream. It had been one of these rare real kisses. None of my helpless faked ones. Without really noticing, I began to hum. An ancient song that my mother used to sing before my father died. It was sad and a remnant of the world before Panem. Now it seemed strangely appropriate. Silently I walked back to the open window and looked up at the moon. From a distance I had to look like a ghost with my pale skin. I had to remind myself that there was no one who could possibly see me. There was just no one left. A quiet tear ran down my cheek and I tried to remember the lyrics of the song.

"Turn down the lights, turn down the bed. Turn down these voices inside my head. ", I began to sing softly and tried to control the trembling of my voice. "Lay down with me, tell me no lies, just hold me Closely ..." I began to tremble. "Don't patronize, don't patronize me 'Cause I can't make you love me, when you don't .." I breathed as a shiver ran down my spine. "I'll close my eyes, 'cause then I won't see .. The love you don't feel when .. when .." I had me to press my hand over my lips to stifle my sobbing. "When. . you're holding me. Morning will come and I'll do what's right, just give me 'til then to give up this fight and I will give up this fight .." Suddenly the meaning of words became painful real. My voice cracked. "'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't. You can't make your heart feel something that it won't. And here in the dark, in these final hours I will lay down my heart and I will feel the power. But you won't, no, you won't .. Make you love me .. make your heart feel here in the dark ... " I turned around and slid down the wall crying. Wondering what had happened to the person who wrote that song about a hundred years ago.

And then it hit me like a sledgehammer. That must've been just how Peeta had felt all these times on the train, as I had been lying in his arms. He had know I didn't return his love. Oh I had done him so wrong, treated him so badly. Now it was I who longed for him and he was out of reach for me. Sobbing, I buried my face in my hands.

Peeta

Down in the garden Peeta finally dared to move a muscle. He had actually come down here just to look at the primroses 'cause he couldn't sleep. His encounter with Katniss that morning had stirred too many things in his mind and had still been troubling him. Just the way she'd been standing there was haunting him. Her loose hair, the light nightgown, her full, plush lips all swollen from her crying and that vulnerable look in her beautiful eyes. She probably still had no idea of the effect she could have on people. So after a restless day, restless because apparently Katniss had gone missing again, he had tried to sleep. Of course, in vain. And since he hadn't wanted to wander far, his legs had carried him to her garden. Maybe he'd been hoping to see some light in one of her windows, finally knowing that she'd made it back safe. Peeta leaned against one of the few trees in the garden, overlooking the primroses and the back of her house when he had noticed a movement at the window. At first he'd wanted to somehow make himself noticeable. But instead, he just sat there silent and motionless, staring transfixed at her window, where she first appeared wearing nothing but her wet nightgown. Flashbacks started crashing his mind. But he could handle them better now, he could almost tell apart what had really happened and what the Trackerjackervenom created. Still it all revolved around her. Some old, messed up memories. Katniss' lips, her eyes, her hair. Katniss, who ran through the rain, not much older than 13 years, her dress clinging to her body, just like the nightgown did now. How beautiful she still seemed in his mind. Her braids a mess, the cheeks all flushed from running. She had been rushing past the bakery, right after school. It had been one of those special days and her mother had somehow managed to get her into a dress. Peeta remembered vaguely that Katniss hated dresses. Then the memory changed and she appeared in a shimmering dress that went up in flames. Was it real or not? The moonlight shone on her pale cheeks and made her look unreal. Was this real? Was she really standing above him at her window or was his mind playing tricks on him again? She disappeared and Peeta decided that he'd made her up. With a soundless sigh, he leaned back, feeling the rough bark in his back, the dampness of the dew on the grass, which had slowly started to seep through the fabric of his pants. But he didn't move. A few times he thought that he'd seen some movement in her room. A shadow, an arm that rose, pale skin. But nothing could've prepared him for what followed.

Peeta just stared up at the window wide-eyed and stunned. Still unsure whether he'd been imagining Katniss naked at the window or not. He could see her upper body, all the way from her hipbones. Her hair was tied back and her pale skin was covered in a thin layer of water drops. That couldn't be real. Just another weird sick phantasy which he wouldn't understand and couldn't place, a dream that would only confuse him even more once he'd wake up. And then she began to sing. The blood froze in his veins and his heart began to beat violently. He could hear every word. Loud and clear. His heart stopped in its tracks. As she pressed her pale slender hand to her lips, he could hardly breathe. A huge wave of images and memories collapsed over him. Images of nights spent together. Whispered conversations. Of how he had held her securely, when she'd woken up screaming from her nightmares. Her voice triggered something that Snow hadn't been able to take away from him. Something deep incise his chest. Her voice grew louder and he could hear all the pain in it. So she did love him after all. Peeta didn't dare to move. Helplessly he looked on as she began to tremble and eventually disappeared. For a moment he felt the impulse to get up, run up to her room and comfort her. But he was way too insecure about what he really felt, as that he could've been of any help to her. For a long time he just sat there unmoving, waiting for her to reappear. But the dark window stayed empty and eventually his pants got so wet and cold that his leg began to ache. He had no idea that by the time he got up and quietly left the garden, Katniss had long gone to bed and fallen asleep, her head buried deep under the covers.