Chapter 5

I carry the box filled with parchment home. I am pleased with my decision to undertake this project, though it doesn't make me less of afraid of beginning it. I got the idea from our family's plant book. Having witnessed so much in the last two years, including Peeta's ordeal, I think it's the right thing to do. This will be our memory book. The place where we recorded those things you cannot trust to memory.

Peeta comes over for breakfast and inquires about the box on the table. I haven't told him yet. Lately, he doesn't seem to be doing as great as I'd thought, and I don't want to strain his memory. I tell him it's a care package from my mother and he lets it go. We feast on french toast and try all flavours of jam Effie sent us last week from the Capitol. I wonder what she'd say if she saw me digging through the raspberry jam jar with my index finger and Peeta sitting around with his elbows spread on the table. He must be thinking the same thing, because he giggles. I'm glad he's learning to read me again. With my low talent for words, I'm betting on his instincts to keep this friendship going.

"Katniss," he says while he brings a tissue to my mouth. "There. Just a little jam smudge."

I can't explain why I do it, but before he can take his hand away from my face, I hold on to it and keep it pressed on my cheek. It's warm and soft, and I didn't know until now how much I've missed its touch. Only after I open my eyes I notice Peeta has come closer.

"I have to go now," he says after kissing my forehead, and then he's gone. I don't see him again for the rest of the day. I suppose this is my fault, for reaching out too soon, for reaching out at all. I find myself resenting him for making me spend another day by myself. I feel so lonely, but I need to learn how to accept that everything's changed. I'm alone now and all I have is a mix of bittersweet memories and nightmares. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart. Finnick's words still ring true in my ear and I think nothing else could be truer at this moment.

I put the parchment away. If I think Peeta is not ready for this, what assures me I am? It's probably a bad idea anyway, I don't know why the doctor agreed to it. I already spend half my day in denial; pretending Prim is still at school. Only when the night comes, I have no excuse to get me by. Buttercup is having the hardest time of us both, since I still catch him waiting for her in her bed. Stupid cat. I lie on the sofa and he follows me. Sometimes I wish he hadn't returned, his presence only makes it worse. But Prim would like me to keep him, so I let him play with a ball of yarn by the fireplace. There's no fire today. Spring has definitely sprung and if it wasn't for the rainy days, I could swear it was summer already. Despite that, I feel cold. I grab a blanket and stare at the ceiling all day. Sometimes I doze off, but mostly I am awake and irritated. I'm mad. Mad at my mother, mad at Gale, mad at Peeta. I realise I'm overreacting due to my own bad mood when I think, just for a second, that I'm mad at Prim. I take the yarn from Buttercup and tie knots. I guess today, whatever day it is, is just not one of the good ones.

I get up once or twice to go to the bathroom or to munch on something. Other than that, I plan on staying inside all day. When the sun sets I can tell it had been a beautiful day. It doesn't matter. What's the point if I have no one left to share it with? I lie back on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself, and take my pills before I fall asleep. They don't help with the nightmares, but at least I don't have to fight insomnia or, even worse, the terrifying realisation that I am alone for good now.

Or so I thought.

I wake up with the noise of my front door being blasted open. The silhouette in between the door frames tells me it's Peeta. Couldn't he have been more careful? What is he doing here so late anyway? It must be way past midnight. I'm frowning and before I can scowl at him for being so noisy, I see his face. His smile is shy, yet it carries a hint of mischief. It takes me a few seconds to realise why I can see his face at all, given that the house was pitch dark when I fell asleep. Peeta is carrying a candle. No, he's carrying an object with a candle. Have I forgotten something?

"Happy birthday, Katniss." He comes closer and I can see a beautifully decorated cake in his hands. It's perfect. The details in the piping are so intricate and, could those be katniss flowers? The three-petal flowers are everywhere on the icing. He seems pleased with himself, and I'm glad he's here. But I honestly think I have nothing to celebrate this year and I didn't even think about how my birthday was near.

"I'm sorry. I woke you up, didn't I? I'm sorry. I just wanted to be the first one." He apologizes some more and sits on the floor shaking his head.

"Peeta, it's ok. Thank you. It's beautiful." I realise this is probably why he left right after breakfast. To bake the cake. I should be the one apologizing then. I got mad at him for leaving me alone, when, in fact, he was planning to surprise me all along. This is so much like something the old Peeta would do; it makes me feel hopeful. I look at him. He's facing away from me and mumbling something to himself. I want to reassure him it's alright, so I sit down and take some of the icing with my fingers. He finally looks up. "It's delicious, really. I'm just a bit half-asleep, because of my meds. But I love it, Peeta. I really do." Although I say these things to comfort him, I really mean them. This feels like the first nice gesture I have experienced since the war that has nothing to do with pity or the need to look after me.

"Here, try a piece," he says after taking a knife, forks, and two plates from a bag. When he's about to dig the knife into it, he hesitates and puts it aside. "I almost forgot. Katniss, you have to make a wish."

Oh, he's right. There are so many things I could wish for but none of them are possible. The dead will not come back. The scars will not heal. What was said cannot be unsaid, and what was done cannot be undone. I decide I'll wish for the only thing I think could be attainable, maybe not now, but someday. I'll wish to feel peace. I come closer to the candle, its flame flickers as I breathe. And as soon as I collect the air to blow it away, I change my mind. I find myself wishing for what can only be a miracle. I wish for my loneliness to go away. I wish for Peeta to love me again.

My cheeks are as red as the piece of red velvet cake he hands to me. Peeta has lit another candle, but I hope it's still dark enough so he can't read my face. I want him back. I miss the days when Peeta loved me, though I don't know what that means in regards to my own feelings for him. Besides, I know it will be impossible for him to ever feel that way again, so I spend the rest of night carefully selecting conversation topics. I avoid anything that could make me think of his hugs, his kisses, or even the way he used to stroke my hair. The problem is that they are all I can think about. What is wrong with me? I though I'd given up on the idea of loving Peeta long time ago. His hijacked self showed me off. It's just that, despite what my feelings could be, I miss his way of loving me.

"Katniss, is everything ok?" Peeta asks me. He looks worried. I wonder if he knows I'm asking myself the same question.

"Yes, it's alright. Thanks for the surprise. I'd actually forgotten my birthday was coming soon."

"Really? I've been thinking about it for days. I know you're not one to make a fuss for your own birthday, but you're turning eighteen and I thought that called for at least something. I even went to the woods to pick some katniss roots. For research, I mean. The stream is very beautiful, we should go there one of these days for a picnic. What do you think?" He asks me.

Peeta went to the woods? By himself? And he wants me to go back with him? That feels strange and I don't know how to react to his invitation. So I scowl at him instead.

"Peeta, that's dangerous! You shouldn't go back there alone!"

"Well, and I'm the one with a memory problem here. In case you've forgotten I managed to come out alive from two Hunger Games arenas, the Capitol's prison, and a war mission. I think I can manage some trees, Katniss."

"I'm sorry, I just worry, ok? There are bears and other wild animals too." I can't tell if he's offended or not, until he smirks at me and takes my hand.

"Thanks for worrying. I guess you're still trying to protect me. Besides, I do know how to use a weapon, I had some knives on me." He takes another piece of cake and stares at the candle. His face is now serious, like his thoughts are somewhere very far away from here. "Can I tell you something?" he asks and I nod. "I spoke to Johanna yesterday. Dr. Aurelius thinks that, because of our connection, it's helpful to try to make sense of what we went through together. She's nice, you know. She can, clearly, be a piece of work, but she really understands what I went through and what I'm still going through."

"You mean what you both went through when you were captured?" I try to see where he's going with this, though there's a different question in my mind right now. Why is he talking about Johanna Mason and why does it make me feel jealous?

"Yes, that too," he replies. "But, I mean, she lost everyone she had, just like I did. Her past is made of holes left by people the Capitol took away from her. Remember when she said there was nobody left she loved? That's terrible."

"And you feel like that, Peeta? Like there's nobody left you love?" It pains me to ask this question, while I try to gulp back my feelings, whatever they may be. Am I not here for him to love me?

"Well, it's different. I still have some friends. There's Haymitch, Delly, and there's you. So I'm not as alone as she was. Still, I struggle. The other day I couldn't remember the colour of my father's eyes, and you know what I did? I ran to the bakery so I could verify it. Then I remembered there was no bakery anymore, and I'd never see my father again. I miss him, and my brothers. I think I even miss my mother."

My eagerness to have Peeta love me again has made me selfish. He also needs love and support, even though it's clear he'll always see me as a friend from now on. I scoot over and lay my head on his shoulders. I wait for him to rest his head on mine and when he does, I take his hand. Peeta is crying. This is not like the times when I've seen him cry before. This is a painful, desperate sob, of someone who has realised everything he's lost. I imagine this is what Johanna went through after there was nothing left for her to hold on to anymore. Her scars are deeper than mine will ever be. I won't let this happen to Peeta, though. We have each other and we'll help each other through this.

When he calms down, I get up and bring the parchment to him. I tell him of my plan and how it could be good for us. He's unsure, though he agrees to help me. We're sitting on the floor against the sofa when he holds me in his arms. I let myself listen to his strong heartbeat while he watches the candle flicker out. He must think I'm asleep when he gently kisses my head. I hold on tighter, in hopes that one day he'll realise there is still someone left for him to love: me.

A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews, story alerts, and encouragement. It is very rewarding to know someone is reading it and enjoying it too.