Chapter 12
I am hungry. No, I am starving. I realize, now, I didn't eat at all yesterday. From looking for Buttercup, to breaking down in the storm, my body was exhausted. No wonder it seems to me I slept for almost a day. I'm so famished I could eat a piece of cardboard, though I'm lucky Peeta knows how to cook and I'm done with my eggs in a minute.
"Somebody was hungry," he says after a sip of tea.
"Thanks for the food. And, yesterday." I tell him, though I don't dare look up. A feeling of embarrassment has taken over me. Peeta has seen me at my worst, but I hoped he wouldn't have to see me like that again. And honestly, I hoped I wouldn't ever see myself like that again either.
"It's not a problem. It's what you and I do, right?" And he winked.
I'm still confused about the time lapse and how on earth he found Buttercup. I take a piece of bread and ask him, trying to sound less clueless about yesterday's events than I am now.
"I was talking to Dr. Aurelius, we were barely five minutes into my session when the line went mute. I hung up and tried again, but nothing. I suspect now it was the weather, terrible lightning. I sat for a while, trying to figure out what to do instead when I heard a few drops of rain turn into a torrent of water. I had hoped you would return home, but you didn't."
So he came to my rescue. I wanted to say something, but since I couldn't think of anything, I just drank my tea while I gathered my thoughts. He's watching me patiently, almost as if waiting for an explanation. Eager to know why I was lying in the rain, weak and a little lost. When I go for the bread again, he shrugs. I thought I was learning to open up, but some bruises hurt deeper out loud.
"Oh, and Haymitch found Buttercup," he says, suddenly remember the cat was the reason I was out in the rain in the first place.
"Haymitch did?" I ask.
"Yes. Funny story, actually. Haymitch went outside to usher the geese into the pen before the storm and he found Buttercup stuck in a bush, hiding away from the geese as they made a fuss about the new visitor. I guess more like an intruder, from the geese's point of view."
I give Buttercup a dirty look for running away and he just hisses at me. I hiss back, as per tradition, and he jumps off the table, running into the hall.
"Haymitch brought him back last night," he continues. "But I didn't want to wake you up, you were sleeping so peacefully. I know how rare that is when it comes to us..." He takes a deep breath and rests his head on his hands.
"Are you okay?" I ask, suddenly forgetting my worries and absorbing his. He doesn't answer, and simply takes another deep breath. "Peeta, maybe you should get some rest."
He looks up, letting out a hint of a sad smile. "I'm not familiar with that concept anymore," he mutters and I finally notice how much darker the bags under his eyes have become.
"What about your sleeping pills?" Those are staples for the both of us, though my negligence with time and medicine is clear given the state of my stash, almost untouched in the bathroom cabinet.
"Dr. Aurelius took me off them, too many chemicals in my brain, he says. He's probably right, I was becoming a bit addicted as you can see from my complete inability to sleep without them lately." Peeta pours more hot water in his tea and I'm not sure he should. The caffeine will only keep him more awake.
"Maybe you should stop with the tea. Or find some without caffeine," I suggest.
"It's fine. I want to be awake. Especially now."
Especially now, I repeat silently to myself. I can't deny the old Peeta was enigmatic at times, but this, this is meant to send my thoughts in a downward spiral, hanging on to each word as I search for the true meaning behind them. He smiles and I realize it has nothing to do with the idea of an old Peeta or a new one. They're the same and he's well aware of how he's playing with my head. I wonder if he slept last night at all. I'm torn between the possibility he stayed up simply to protect me, and my deep wish he just wanted to hang on to reality. One packed with images of me in his arms.
"What do you mean by especially now?" I give up and ask, still too tired to figure things out by myself.
"I'm doing okay, Katniss. I can't sleep and, when I do, nightmares chase me all the way, but I'm doing okay. That last flashback, I don't know, something changed. Does that make sense?"
"I'd like to believe so. And I'm happy you're better, one of us should be," I say and immediately regret it. I don't want to make this about myself, but I have a slight feeling something changed yesterday too, though I can't put my finger on it just yet. Realizing he just deflected my question, I steer him back into it.
"Right. It might sound silly, but I'm afraid I'll sleep and when I wake up all the blur and shiny memories will be back and this growing sense of certainty will slip away," he answers. I think he's done and I can't help the disappointing feeling in my stomach that I have nothing to do with it, even though I reckon there's no reason for me to have anything to do with it in the first place. Except he's not done. He finishes his second cup of tea, and tells me, almost knocking me off my chair. "Holding you last night, Katniss, felt right. I didn't think, not even for a second, of hurting or you hurting me. It was the absolute opposite. And I'm not ready to let go of that feeling. So, if need be, I'll accept insomnia as an old friend."
The truth is I should say something, but Peeta knows better than to expect me to have an appropriate reaction to his words. He just smiles and reaches over, gently kissing my hand, before he collects the plates and rinses them off. I want to tell him he doesn't have to let go. I'll stay up with him, and eventually we'll learn to have good nights of sleep again. But I know it'd be crazy to make such promises, particularly now, when that vision of Prim remains stuck to brain. I thought she was going to say something, and then she disappeared. I don't tell Peeta about this when I join him by the sink. In fact, I remind myself not to tell anyone about it. If Dr. Aurelius receives word of it, I'll surely be dragged into the next train to the Capitol and labelled as a mad person. Poor Annie, I wonder if that's how it started for her; if she sees Finnick in the rain too. One single tear falls from my eye. And here I was thinking that after yesterday, I'd have none left to spare.
I turn off the tap and hug Peeta, who's taken aback by my action. He doesn't ask anything though, and just holds me back. His warm breath on my neck, his strong hands on the small of my back. The only thing keeping me from falling apart.
"Katniss..." he whispers. It's truly the closest I've felt emotionally to him since the beach in the arena. I cherish the closeness, though my fear of letting myself go takes over. I'm still afraid of the unknown surrounding Peeta and me. The more I want to push in, the more I feel I should pull out. After a minute, my instincts are my defences and they speak for me.
"The book," I say, breaking apart.
"Do you want to work on it?" he asks, seemingly unaware of how flustered I am. I nod and we walk to the living room. Everything's still where we left it when Haymitch came over, and while Peeta resumes his work on Finnick's picture, I do my best at my descriptive duties. I take the picture of his family, the one he drew just a while ago, and write what I can from memory, asking Peeta if there's anything he'd like to include every now and then. He talks about his brothers' and their sense of humour. I add about Peeta's father with the cookies. He doesn't seem to have much to say about his mother and I strangely relate to it. He catches up on it, based on his next words to me.
"You should call your mother, Katniss." He advises while he scrabbles through pencils.
"We don't have much to say." It's the truth, although now I understand her own withdrawal and I'm positive I love her.
"Still. Better that than having something to say and not being able to call her." Peeta says, a hint of sad realization in his voice. I'm stricken with guilt and make a mental note to call my mother this week.
We have a productive day when it comes to the book. Peeta draws and paints a picture, while I write a description for the one he just finished. We take small breaks to eat, given that he did bake a small feast the previous day and I'll never learn to refuse cheese buns. Especially after he surprises me with a can of lamb stew, which arrived in his last order of supplies from the Capitol. The sun begins to move west and we're tired. A small pile of finished pages sits on the coffee table, as detailed as we could make them. The colour of Finnick's eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count.Maybe that's what Prim was trying to tell me yesterday. As I look at the partial reflection of Peeta and me on the mirror hung above the mantel, I conclude it's the right thing to do. I believe the pain will never truly leave but we were strong for them once in a fight we never knew we could win, and now we must be strong again.
"Do you want to go for walk?" I ask Peeta. I know he's tired, but I suggest it anyway.
"Okay. Let me just freshen up first." He gets up and comes back in a few minutes, his face refreshed and his hair damp. We walk through Victor's Village. It's not as empty as it used to be, our new neighbours consist of Thom and his family, and an older couple from the Seam. There are also two houses allocated for the construction crew, but they come and go all the time, and I'm not entirely sure they'll stay after the District is rebuilt. Peeta notices me watching the houses and halts his stride.
"I think Delly is moving here," he says.
"That's nice, is she still in District 13?" I ask.
"Yes, she is. She misses it over here, but it's hard to return without any firm job opportunities yet."
He's right. Aside from construction work and the little market we have, consisting mostly of barter, there isn't much to do in terms of work here.
"Haymitch mentioned plans for a factory to make medicine, maybe she can work there," I say.
"I think so. Or she might study before, I don't know. Dr. Aurelius has taken a special interest in her, did I tell you that? Because of how she helped me remember. He thinks she could do well in mental care."
I don't doubt it. Delly is so cheerful it's hard to be depressed for long next to her, and she did really well with Peeta as a challenge. She's nice, though I feel a small pang of jealousy whenever Peeta brings her up. I know it's irrational and they knew each other as children, but I can't help it and feel like changing the subject.
Yesterday's storm led to a cool night, but today's been hot and the humidity sticks to my skin. "How tired are you? Is your leg all right?" I ask Peeta.
"I'm fine, the caffeine is doing its wonders. Why?" He scratches his head, a hint of a smile on his face.
"I want to go somewhere, do you want to join me?"
"Now?" He's puzzled. I don't go many places besides my house, his house, or Haymitch's.
"Yes, before the sun sets completely. I just have to stop by my house first," I say. He follows me while I grab my bow and arrows and stick a few other things in my hunting bag. It's clear where we're going, and he doesn't protest. He was the one to suggest on my birthday that we'd go there for a picnic, so I make sure to take some cheese from the fridge and a few slices of bread.
We walk to the woods with a small sense of rush. Lately, the sun won't set until much later, still I want to enjoy every bit of sunlight. We don't say much along the way, except for Peeta's brief comments about the trees and the colours of the flowers. The rest of the time I just feel his eyes fixed on me, piercing through my skin. Our way is farther than he expected and I notice his limp, though he assures me it's nothing. The terrain is steeper here, which makes Peeta's steps sound even louder than usual. What a lousy hunting partner he'd be. It doesn't matter, because I'm not looking for one right now.
When we make it to the lake, Peeta stops suddenly, examining his surroundings. He knows what I'm up to, and I know he'll take some convincing. I hope the scorching sun and the sweat dripping through our skins are enough arguments. "I'm not getting in," he says. His arms are crossed and he repositions his legs on the ground, signalling he won't move.
"But I taught you how to swim," I tell him. His look is the same every time he's about to ask whether something's real or not real, but I continue before he asks the question. "Well, sort of. The flotation belt in the arena helped you a bit. How about we try again now?"
I hadn't realized until now how much trust this will require from the boy who once thought I was out to kill him. My next instinct is to apologize and suggest we just eat by the water instead, when I see him take his boots off. Then his socks. He takes a few steps towards the water, and stops right before the water level reaches his knees. He laughs. "It's a funny feeling. Both legs in the lake, and only one tells me the water is actually wet." Then he gives his prosthetic two little knocks and walks further in. But not before he takes his shirt off and tosses it on the grass.
A/N: Chapter 13 is on the way and I hope to finish 14 soon too. Please review, you have no idea how your reviews have helped me shape the story and correct little bumps on the plot. :)