A/N: So, yes! Another fluffy Peeniss fanfic! There's no real plot and it's terrible, but I decided to put it up. There's a Anna McPartin quote in it, and please read her Pack Up the Moon if you haven't - it's terrific. On with the fic!
'After night comes day. After death comes life.' It's what Katniss's mother always tells Katniss when she can't stand the nightmares any more and finally succumb to call her mother. She knows it's right. That doesn't mean she has ever understood it.
Her life was never perfect. Truth be told, it was far from perfect. She could hardly remember her childhood days, when she believed everything was good in the world. She couldn't remember her father telling her bedtime stories, or when she sang because she wanted to. Katniss hated it. Time wouldn't reverse. She was left with only a body working automatically without emotion or feeling.
Katniss manages to stay alive, but there's always the feeling as if she had her soul sucked out of herself - as if she would never become happy again.
Only one dandelion remains in her life. That hope was Peeta.
Peeta would visit Katniss everyday right after work and try to make things better. She knows she'll never heal, but being with Katniss makes Peeta happier, and she knows she owes the boy with the bread this much. She also knows that being with Peeta makes her feel better, too. It's a win-win situation, and she doesn't mind at all. But it feels wrong to her in some way.
It's during those nights when she's having one of her worst nightmares that Katniss feels as if she needs more than just the dinners cooked by Peeta, or the pep talks and comfort. She needs Peeta, and just Peeta, without him being therapist or playing at being friends. She needs to come home from hunting and see Peeta waiting for her, waiting to tell her his newest pastry invention or about the occasional insane customer and the fit they threw.
Katniss shakes off that idea. It could only happen in her dreams. She would never allow it.
Whenever he comes by, Katniss can see the look in Peeta's eyes, as if he would wait his whole life if he had to, to be with her. She's not very good at emotions and feelings at all, but she can see that much. She can see the hunger, and the fear of losing her. She can see love. And she wants to return it.
It doesn't feel as if she only wanted to return it because she was afraid of owing him something. But she tells herself that she must think it is because of that reason, or else she wouldn't forgive herself.
The doorbell rings. Katniss has told Peeta a million times to just let himself in. But he's way too polite to do such a thing. She tries to make herself look presentable and not as if she had been daydreaming the whole day away, and open the door.
Peeta's grinning, and holding a cake box in one hand. She can't help but put on the tiniest of smiles just at the sight of him - his hair shining in the sunlight, his blue eyes soft and gentle, and looking...happy. She likes seeing Peeta that way.
He hands the cake box to her before she even says a word. "Eat that before it melts," He instructed, before looking straight into her eyes and giving her a shiver, even though he always looks her in the eye. "It's my new creation."
Katniss takes the cake box. "Melt?"
"You'll see," Peeta said. "You could put it in the fridge if you liked."
"I'll do that later." She heads off into the house again, Peeta following her and settling down on the couch. He looks exhausted. "Any drama at the bakery?"
Peeta puts on his grin again. "As always," He replies in a 'duh' tone, except for it's playful and Katniss doesn't mind. "Some old lady named Miss Pudding or whatever it was marched straight into my kitchen and asked for squirrel pie." He looks at Katniss. "Ring any bells?"
"You know I don't sell anyone meat these days," She said while putting the cake down on the dinner table. "That's odd."
"She probably had one of your squirrels before, then," Peeta suggested. "Or she knew my mother. My mother always put your squirrels in a pie." His eyes look far away, as if he was back in the days where he never had to worry about nightmares, having sudden fits, or having to eat pills every day.
Katniss closes her eyes too. It's not because she wants to take a trip down memory lane. She wants to get rid of the guilt bubbling inside her that kept on remind herself she was the reason of the Mellark family's death.
Peeta can sense it, and hastily change subjects. They talk for a while. Katniss even laughs. Her laughs are only reserved for Peeta and nobody else. They taste Peeta's new cake - a cake completely made out of cream, sandwiched between two extremely large biscuits. It's delicious. The cream melts in her mouth, and she somehow assumes that Peeta made it just for her.
Guilt bubbles again. She doesn't deserves this. At all.
Later, Peeta makes dinner and he tells her every joke he knew, and even though it's not Katniss's first time listening to this, she laughs at all the punchlines. She doubts Peeta remembers. It's hard to believe that despite Peeta's carefree appearance, his scars have never healed. Everything's still shiny to him. Katniss isn't the only one fighting against the aftermath.
Peeta washes the dishes while Katniss clears the table. It's part of their routine. And as the last dish is sparkling clean, Peeta gets himself ready to go back to his own house. He looks casual, seeing as he's completely used to this, but she always hates it when he goes. Her heart slowly mends whenever he drops by. It returns to zero when he leaves.
A part of her is urging for her to not let him go. She can't do it. It's for Peeta's own good.
But she can't help but imagine how nice it would be to fall asleep with Peeta snoring beside her. To wake up with Peeta's blond hair in her face, his eyelashes all tangled up, to hear him yawn. She knows this want is so wrong, so wrong she can hardly register it, but she just wants. And lying to herself had never been easy. She can't force the words out, but Peeta always knew what she was thinking before she said it.
"Katniss?" Peeta says, probably for the fifth time, and she snaps out of her daydream. "You there?"
"Oh, right," She quickly says. "What were you saying?"
Peeta automatically pushed away the strand of hair that fell into her face, as if he didn't even mean to do it. "I was telling you good night," He said gently. "I'll leave now."
Katniss nodded silently. Peeta smiled at Katniss and opened the door, walking off into the darkness. This replayed every night. Why was Katniss feeling so...broken?
As if knowing he was being watched, Peeta turned around. "What, Katniss?"
She couldn't help it. Her conscience was screaming to her that it was all wrong, so wrong, and way too wrong she shouldn't even be thinking, but she ignored it. "Stay," she said, her voice shaking. "Please."
"Katniss?" Peeta sounded alert now.
Katniss looked at those beautiful blue eyes. "The nightmares...I want them to go away. I want you to stay."
He paused for a minute, as if he was bargaining his choices. "Okay," he whispered into the night, and headed into the house once more, closing the door behind him.
Peeta hated himself. He hated himself for saying yes, for letting himself go into Katniss's house and sleep in her bed. He hated himself for wanting her. The blackness would take over, and he would hurt her, like he did last time. Those shiny memories never went away. He was afraid of injuring her, afraid of breaking her, afraid of being with her. The daily visits and dinners were acts of friendship. Friends don't sleep in each other's beds. He wasn't supposed to do this; he wasn't supposed to give himself a chance to ruin her. Of course, it was only one night, and they would be sleeping on the same bed, and that would be it. But he hated himself for wanting more than just that. He wanted to make her his.
He would never let himself.
But he changed into an old t-shirt of his that Katniss had apparently owned in her closet, and wondered if he was the only one with wants. He got in under the covers, glad that the bed was wide enough so that they didn't have to get too close, and told her good night before forcing his eyes to close.
He could hardly fall asleep. Peeta knew that, right next to him was the girl he'd loved for as long as he could remember, with her hair down, eyes closed peacefully, her lips slightly parted. It wasn't the first time, but it made his heart hurt so bad he wanted to rebel against his own thoughts and ignore the fact that he might attack her like he did last time.
The thought brought himself chills. He tried to sleep and act normal. But he would never be normal.
A nightmare attacks her sleep. She's curled up and breaking out in cold sweat, her hair sticking to her neck. She unconsciously snuggles up against Peeta's warm chest, realizing that it was the first in a long time. She remembered nights on the train, where Peeta would tell her everything was alright.
Peeta's eyes flutter open to the sight of Katniss moaning in distress, and Katniss hopes he can remember how he used to comfort Katniss. She wanted the real Peeta.
She can hear a low rumble in his chest, and she hopes it's the cold air that's making her shiver.
Her leg intertwines with Peeta's. She doesn't mind the prosthetic leg. It's a part of Peeta that will never change anything. Peeta hesitates for a second, but strokes her hair gently and whispers something she doesn't quite catch. She feels safe, snuggled into Peeta, him being just the boy with the bread. She falls to sleep. It's way much more pleasant than sleep pills. She can hear him snoring after a while, too, and she smiles to herself in the darkness.
The next morning, Katniss wakes up without any memory of a nightmare at all. It's just her, Peeta, and the comfort of the covers. She can hear Peeta breathe in and out peacefully, and she grins. She wonders how nice it could be if this happened every day. She eases herself out from the covers, trying to not wake Peeta up, and put on the dress Delly gave her but was never worn. It looks fine, she thinks grudgingly. At least it would impress Peeta. She tiptoes downstairs and start preparing breakfast.
Katniss, for once, finally realized that her mother was right.
After night comes day.
After death comes life.
Even in your darkest times, look around, because you are never really alone.
You are loved.
A/N: Yep. Did you enjoy it? Had a laugh at it? Got yourself sick? This fic was slightly inspired by my pillow, so credit to it! And I shall sign out.