6. Violet
I've never been a particularly bold person, but I can't help myself. Ever since Katniss arrived I've been drawn to her more and more. I've helped her look for her cousin, but secretly I've been overjoyed that she couldn't find him. I'm selfish. I don't want her to go.
Katniss doesn't answer my question; she looks dazed.
I chuckle nervously. "I guess it's too soon to spring that on you."
She gives me a small smile. "I like you Peeta," she begins, and my heart beats faster. "But I don't see how it could work. I can't just up and leave my life in Portland."
"Is there someone else?" I fear my heart will break if she admits to it.
Fortunately she shakes her head. "No," she mumbles.
"But this afternoon…" I'm thinking about her kiss. Surely she must feel something for me if she kissed me.
She sighs. "Peeta, you hardly know me."
"I know enough about you to know that I want you to stay with me." I am astounded at my daring but I guess loneliness does things to a man.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I stand up and go to my trunk to open it. I reach into one of the boots stored inside and pull out a white folded cloth.
I carry it back to the table. "These belonged to my grandmother," I tell her. "As soon as we met, I knew they were meant for you." I unfold the linen to reveal the red combs.
Katniss takes one look at them and springs up from the chair.
"What game are you playing?" Her cheeks are pink, her silver eyes piecing in the firelight.
I am dumbstruck at her reaction. She has gone from calm to fury in a few seconds.
"Where did you get those combs? Madge took them from me the other night."
How could Katniss have my grandmother's combs? Her comment makes no sense.
Her eyes narrow. "Are you a friend of Gale's? Is this just one elaborate set-up?"
She backs up slowly, making her way to the door.
I get up from my chair.
"I've never met your cousin Katniss. I don't know what you're talking about."
She waves her arm as if pointing to the interior of my cabin. "All of this is one big stunt isn't it? This cabin is like a movie set; it's so damn authentic. Cooking over the fire. Sleeping on a bed of pine needles. Old books in mint condition."
I have no idea what she's accusing me of. It all sounds like gibberish to me.
"What year is this supposed to be, Peeta?"
"It's 1852," I reply. "You know that Katniss."
She turns, opens the door, and bolts out. It's dark outside; the only light comes from the moon and the stars. I chase after her. I doubt she is gone for good since she has left her bow and quiver of arrows leaning against the wall, but I don't want her to get lost. I have done enough searching this day already.
She heads toward the stream.
"Stop Katniss," I shout. But she doesn't stop until she's at the edge of the water.
I am fairly close to her now, just a few yards away. "This is the only direction we didn't search," she yells at me. "The reenactment camp is on the other side of the stream. You deliberately let me wander all over the place today."
"There's nothing there," I say. "Just a pile of rocks. You'd have to climb them for hours to get to a flat spot to camp."
"Stop lying to me Peeta."
She turns and lifts her skirt about knee level and steps gingerly through the shallow, rushing water. I take off after her picking my way carefully. I know she can't get very far. There are boulders up ahead. I will catch her easily at that point.
But when I reach the boulders, she has made quick time in her flight. She is ahead of me, climbing over the rocks that are piled up as if a giant had stacked them.
"Katniss, why are you doing this," I shout as I climb after her. Unfortunately, I misjudge my step and my leg comes down hard between two large rocks, one with a very jagged edge.
I cry out from the sharp, unexpected pain. It feels as if my left thigh has been torn open. It takes a few minutes for me to pull my leg out from where it is wedged between the rocks. My hand is wet with blood when I touch my pant leg. I pull myself off of the rocks and limp toward the stream. I cannot put any weight on my leg.
By the time I reach the pebbled shore I am in agony. My pant leg is wetter and I know I am losing blood. Feeling dizzy I sit, and then lie down on the edge of the stream.
Time slows down as I lay bleeding. I close my eyes. I am so tired.
"Peeta, wake up." I feel a slap to my face and water is splashed on it. I don't know how long I've been dozing.
"Please Peeta, wake up now." The voice is desperate.
A hand runs through my hair and it feels nice. I'm drifting through a gauzy violet-tinted world with no hard rocks, just soft edges when I feel something velvety press into my lips. My eyes fly open.
It's Katniss. Her braid lies on my shoulder, and her face feels wet against my cheek. She continues pressing her lips to mine. How can something feel hard and soft at the same time?
I let out a tiny sigh when she pulls back for a moment.
"What happened to you?" she whispers.
"I fell and my leg..."
I feel her hand ghost over my wound and I wince.
"We need to go."
"Go?" I don't understand her. "Go where?"
"Back to the cabin," she says. "So I can fix you up."
I don't see how that is possible. I can't walk and Katniss is too small to carry me.
"Can you sit up?"
I groan, but she puts her hand onto my shoulders and pulls me to a sitting position. A wave of dizziness comes over me for a moment. When it has passed, she pulls me to my feet. Her strength astounds me.
"Come on. You can do this."
But I can't, not for very long. We make it across the stream somehow, but then I collapse onto the stony ground when we reach the other side.
Katniss lets me rest for a short time, but then she urges me up again.
"Please Peeta."
The pain in her voice worries me. How bad is my leg? Using every bit of strength, I get myself up into a standing position. Katniss props me up with her shoulder and somehow we stagger back to the cabin. The fire in the hearth is dying down as we enter, but that is the last I remember.
When I awake the fire is roaring, Katniss is lying next to me, and I'm not wearing any pants.