Peeta
Alma Coin is always exactly 7 minutes late to strategy meetings. Finn, Jo and I found this out slowly, during our first few weeks after arriving in District 13. Jo says it's because Coin is an 'evil bitch woman' who 'likes to torture' the people she 'wants things from'. I didn't agree with her at first, but I think I can see where Jo is coming from now. Especially because it's pretty obvious that her delayed entry is making Katniss upset.
I take her hand under the table and pull it into my lap. Katniss glances quickly over at me and I give her a tight smile. I want to pull her out of the room and go hide in bed with her all day. I want to crawl under the sheets, close my eyes, press my nose into her hair and pretend that I'm back in District 12.
I want a lot of impossible things.
Haymitch is idly tapping his fingers on the table across from us, staring pointedly at Katniss, who is doing her best to ignore him completely. I don't know what happened while I was gone but from the way Haymitch and Gale spoke to Katniss last night, and the way she responded, it was not good.
"The girl completely lost it after the Quell. Had a full-blown mental breakdown—honestly, I'd never seen anything like it."
Bile rises quickly in my throat and I do my best to swallow it back. I knew she would be upset if I didn't make it back but the way they were describing the situation makes it seem as though she couldn't get better.
Involuntarily, my hand squeezes hers under the table.
"I thought you were dead and I turned into my mother."
My head starts pounding and I feel beads of sweat start to form at my temple.
Not now. Not now. Not now.
It's almost comical how quickly Johanna turns her head in my direction the moment my anxiety starts to build. I guess we're linked together in that regard. The 'attacks' are a result of the poisonous cat scratches we were both exposed to in the arena. The doctors in 13 told us the venom was a derivative of the poison found in tracker jackers: it's the only explanation for our 'irregular anxiety condition'.
Jo hates that phrase.
"Why the fuck don't the just call them 'Scary as Fuck Panic Attacks'?" she muttered once after our early morning therapy. I agreed with her on that one. I haven't had many of the attacks, less than five in total, but each time has been overwhelmingly terrifying. My first bought with my 'irregular anxiety condition' was when I woke up in 13 after a three-week long coma. I had a minor heart attack during that one.
I lived.
The second one was a month later, when Coin suggested we start weapon training once our physical therapy was complete. The third was when I found out President Snow had plans to bomb District 12 and the fourth was right after Finnick left on the rescue mission 2 days ago.
Needless to say, stress is unhealthy for me.
Johanna digs her nails into my arm, attempting to bring me back to the present. I haven't had enough exposure to the attacks to know what sets them off yet. For me, they usually have something to do with Katniss. But sometimes I'll hear a plate drop in the cafeteria or the lights will flicker in my room, and I'll be shuttled back to the arena. I'll feel the apprehension start to build and my palms will start to sweat. It's hit or miss, really. At least both of us know the warning signs: building panic and muscle stiffness followed by tremors, sweating and dilating of the eyes. I'll have a shooting pain in my shoulder from where the injury stemmed and after that, I'm thrown into horrifying blackness only to wake up with no recollection of what happened.
But it's diluted now, and I can think properly, so luckily I will not have an attack. I shoot Jo a curt nod and she releases her grip on my arm. Katniss, who has been oblivious to the whole thing, shifts to my right.
I run my thumb over her knuckles and exhale slowly, trying to ignore the ever-present throbbing pain at my hip. Just being around her has calmed me considerably, even if I won't ever be the same person that entered the Quell. I'm different now.
But I stand true to what I told her two days ago when I saw her for the first time: there are no words for what it's like to be together again. Of course I knew she was alive the whole time: the daily reassurances from Coin's team provided me that. She had no idea, though. I thought they would have at least told her District 13 existed but they kept it from her as well. My mind spins as I try to put myself in her shoes. If Katniss went into the Games a second time and she died in front of me…
"You must think I'm crazy."
I fight back the prickling anxiety I feel and chance a glance at her again. Her face is blank and she's not looking in my direction. I'm not convinced of her hard exterior this time, though. I remember the way she clung to me while walking here. She wants to be tough in front of President Coin but I know she is very nervous. I'd by lying if I said I wasn't nervous as well.
A piece of hair falls free of her braid, and with her free hand she pushes it away from her sunken cheeks. It's clear to me now that her emotional deterioration has manifested itself physically.
She's too thin. She's too pale. Her eyes are still too dull.
I'll change that, though. Because I've been given a second—no, third chance with her. I will not let this go to waste. I really just want to kiss her. I want to take her back to my room and push her up against the wall the same way I did last night. I want to hide her away with me, keep her wrapped in my arms where no one can hurt her again. I want to see her smile.
I want all of this to go away.
I'm torn from my thoughts when President Coin walks into the large, white conference room. She's a severe-looking woman, with severe-looking haircut and an indifferent expression that is much scarier than seems. Katniss squeezes my hand tighter and I return it with equal force.
I really don't like this woman and I do not have a good feeling about this meeting. Nevertheless, she's our leader and she's fighting the Capitol. It's obvious where my loyalties must lie.
"Good morning," Coin addresses the room, shuffling her papers in front of her as she takes her seat next to Boggs. "We have much to discuss but let us first welcome our friends from District 12: Haymitch Abernathy, Victor of the Second Quarter Quell. Gale Hawthorne: District 12 resident and liaison to the rebellion. Margaret Undersee: Daughter to the District 12 Mayor and liaison to the rebellion. Katniss Everdeen: Victor of the 74th Hunger Games."
The table murmurs a collective greeting and I turn to look at Katniss, who has her chin up and is looking directly at President Coin. I can't hide my smile at her resiliency: it's one of the reasons I fell so hard in the first place, after all.
"Miss Everdeen, it's my understanding that you are not as informed as the other three members of District 12 when it comes to the rebellion efforts," Coin explains. I feel Katniss tense considerably and I give her hand a small squeeze. "But please note that your performance in District 12 over the last fourth months was absolutely essential to the effort. Without your emotional display, there is no way that the Capitol would have loosened its reigns on District 12. Albeit, there were some issues with new Peacekeepers and such to keep other rowdy members of the District in line but please know that you played an indispensable role."
I don't like the word 'performance'. I don't like the word 'emotional display' and I clench my teeth together, looking anywhere but at President Coin. If Katniss is upset by Coin's words, she doesn't show it. Across the table, Gale averts his eyes to the sheet of paper in front of him and Madge looks at Katniss pleadingly.
"As I'm sure you've been informed by Mr. Mellark, the rebellion has been brewing for years now but only came to a head after the conclusion of the 74th Hunger Games. We have an arsenal of spies in the Capitol, including but not limited to the current Victor of the Third Quarter Quell, who has been elemental in providing us with key information."
I've heard all of this before. How Enobaria was slated to win the Quell. It makes sense now, of course, given her seemingly obvious support of the Capitol. But as I think back on it, it wouldn't have made sense to me when the mutts were ripping into my shoulder. Or when the jabberjays were imitating Katniss' screams. Or when Gloss' spear met my hip.
No, it would not have made sense in those moments.
I shift in my chair a little, trying to ease the tension I feel in my shoulder and the dull throb I feel by my hip. I've grown used to it at this point but when I'm anxious it seems that the chronic pain I experience doubles in intensity.
"As you would have it, though, the District 12 rescue mission, though necessary, alerted the Capitol to our presence. We can no longer move about under a cloak of invisibility. We must act swiftly in order to side with the districts and together overthrow the totalitarian regime of the Capitol."
This last part Coin speaks, not solely to Katniss, but to the table as a whole. It's clear that she is trying to rile everyone up, which is absolutely ridiculous because everyone at this table is for the rebellion and already riled up.
"Luckily for us, we are at an advantage as we have been preparing for something like this for years whereas the Capitol, under the leadership of Coriolanus Snow, is just learning the extent to which the rebellion efforts have increased. According to our spies, they are scrambling to do something. Anything, really," she says with a smirk.
This should be good news, but I can't help the way my stomach turns to lead at the way she smiles.
"Our plan here is start training those soldiers who are of age for battle. However, because Mr. Mellark and Ms. Everdeen are not yet of age for physical combat—and due to Mr. Mellark's extensive medical history," she says, pointedly, "they will not be joining in the physical rebellion efforts until they are both cleared to do so. That being said, and because the two of you are so important to the idea of the rebellion as a whole—the districts have grown quite fond of you—we have a proposition to make."
I glance between Katniss and Coin, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I knew she couldn't make us fight, that was never a concern of mine. She can't make us fight until we are both 18. That's 8 months away for me and a year away for Katniss.
It's what else she'll make us do that has me worried because I've seen how this woman works.
"We need to begin shooting propaganda films to wire throughout the Districts, including the Capitol. We need a spokesperson for the rebellion, and although Mr. Mellark could do the job by himself, seeing the two of you together is what will push the efforts considerably in our favor."
"What exactly are you saying?" Katniss asks. Her voice is strong and steady. Her eyes, though, look stormy.
"What we are asking, Ms. Everdeen, is if you and Mr. Mellark would continue to play the star-crossed lovers of District 12. We are asking that you communicate the importance of the rebellion in pre-filmed segments to be shot both in District 13 and around the country."
All of a sudden my tongue feels like sandpaper and the panic I've been fighting off trickles back. I feel dizzy and with my free hand I grip the edge of the table.
"You want us to exploit our relationship," Katniss questions. With her words, my stomach sinks to my toes. It's the Victory Tour all over again. It's one higher power using our relationship to their benefit over another. More mind games.
"Exploit is a strong word, Ms. Everdeen. We risked a lot to bring you back here. We are simply asking that you and Mr. Mellark act as our "Mockingjays": our symbols of the rebellion," Coin continues, eyes trained steadily on Katniss. I close my eyes quickly and clear my throat.
"You want us to film segments around the country, expressing our support of the rebellion," I clarify in a hollow voice.
"Yes, Mr. Mellark."
At this point, Coin presses a button on the side of her chair and a large screen lowers itself from the ceiling at the end of the room.
"We've been putting together a series of clips to use," she explains. My body numbs when I see what they're showing. The video starts off with my interview with Caesar from my first Games. They are using me as a voiceover, showing the clips in slow motion.
"She came here with me."
The shots fade into each other: The two of us together in the Cave. The nightlock berries. Short clips from the Victory Tour. The Quarter Quell announcement.
"She was…upset," my voiceover speaks again.
Katniss running to say goodbye to me. A montage of my Games. And then, a desolate shot of my house in the Victor's Village. Of Katniss' house in the Victor's Village. Of Town. Of the Bakery. Of the Mines.
"There are too many things that have been taken from us."
The screen fades to black on the sign leading into the Victor's Village, and confusingly they choose to end the shot on the mutt rosebush which looks as though it's been torn apart. I think the segment is over until I hear my voice ring out on last time.
"Katniss."
Finally, the screen comes to life again, showing the two of us collide together. Katniss' strangled sob. A close up of our kiss.
I feel sick. Of all the things they feel like showing, of course they're going to show our reunion—something that should have been private. I had no idea that it was even taped and it's something that should be ours alone. My skin burns. It itches. I'm embarrassed and feel far too exposed. I thought we were done with being a circus act.
A formidable silence overcomes the table and I can't look anywhere but at Katniss' trembling hand in mine. I have the sudden urge to flip the table over and punch a wall.
"Mockingjays?" Katniss asks in a tone so detached it automatically worries me.
"It's just a term. A slogan. The pin you wore during your Hunger Games, Ms. Everdeen, is what the citizens of Panem associate with the uprisings. The rebellion. Mr. Mellark wore a similar token on his wrist during the Quell."
I shake my head lightly, trying to clear it. Portia gave me that bracelet. They made me watch as they killed her moments before I was lifted into the arena. I haven't told anyone that, yet. Not even Katniss.
"As their mentor, I don't like the idea of them parading around the District for all to see. Isn't that a little irresponsible? What if something happens to them?"
I'm too shocked by Haymitch's contribution to really process what he said. He's still trying to protect us, it seems.
"They'd be heavily guarded," Coin responds. "And we would never send them to the same District together. We're not stupid enough to put them both in the same place—It would be too easy a target."
"No," I nearly shout. My outburst makes Madge jump in her seat and suddenly everyone is staring directly at me.
"Excuse me?" Coin turns, her face void of expression.
"We won't be separated," I say resolutely, trying to control my voice. It almost looks as though Coin is going to roll her eyes at me but I don't care. "You can't separate us," I say again.
Not again. I will never let that happen again. I don't care if I have to lock the two of us in a storage closet, Coin will not rip me away from Katniss ever again. The thought of it makes my head start to pound.
I think I'm more messed up than I realize.
"May I ask 'why' you think you have the gall to tell us what we can and can't do, Mr. Mellark?" asks Coin, clearly aggravated, as she raises her eyebrows in my direction.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to disrespect you," I explain as calmly as I can, trying to mollify the situation. "I just think that if the Districts are so invested in us together, as a team, then seeing us together is better for everyone. If they see us separated, which they associate with the tyranny of the Capitol, it could damage the image," I conclude, shocking myself with my own ability to speak clearly and fluidly enough to communicate a reasonable point. I don't care what I have to say to make it happen, but they'll keep us together.
I feel the stares of everyone at the table but I don't break eye contact with the woman in front of me. I don't care if they all think I'm crazy. I am crazy.
Luckily I can see the battle raging in her mind. I've made a good point.
Too good of a point, it seems.
"Noted, Mr. Mellark," she says through slightly clenched teeth. "Though we still need your cooperation. Both of you. Will you be our Mockingjays?" Coin asks again. I look at Haymitch across the table.
I have no idea what to do; this is a responsibility I wasn't anticipating.
"We need to think about this," Katniss says suddenly. "Please," she adds.
Coin looks between the two of us one last time.
"You have 24 hours."
The rest of the meeting passes in a blur. The two of us walk silently back to my compartment and it isn't until we're both seated on my sofa, staring blankly at the walls, that I finally speak.
"I didn't know this is what she wanted us to do," I tell Katniss, inching closer to her on the couch. "I swear, Katniss, I had no idea."
"I know, Peeta," she replies quietly. The look in her eyes could shatter me. I know she doesn't want this, it's exactly like what happened with the Capitol: we're being used again.
"We have to do it," I tell her dejectedly. I wish we didn't, though, so I try to communicate that with my eyes because I can't find my voice right now. If I could take this all away, I would. I'm not sure how much longer either of us can deal with this kind of treatment.
"I know."
We sit in silence and Katniss stares at the space of couch between us miserably. I'm about to apologize again when she sighs sadly.
"It's never going to end, is it?" I gaze up at her and see frustration mixed with pain in her silver eyes. My face falls.
"Someone is always going to want something from us. This whole charade…people are going to use us for the rest of our lives, aren't they?" she asks softly. I bite the inside of my cheek. I want to gather her in my arms but the look in her eyes is disconcerting and I'm afraid she'll resist me. "I thought it was bad before," she continues. "You know, during the Victory Tour because I thought it was all fake between us. And it wasn't fair to me and it especially wasn't fair to you."
I swallow thickly, brought back to how horrible it was to act out my greatest dream. All I ever wanted after the Games was for Katniss to love me back and despite how superficial the whole thing seems acting it out was a cruel twist on torture.
"And now it just hurts so much more because…" she trails off before placing her hand on mine. The act is small but I take comfort in it immediately. "Because the things between us are very real now and it's like everyone feels they can watch us. They taped when…" she says, looking off to the side. She doesn't have to continue for me to know what she's talking about. They taped our reunion, a moment where both of us were far too vulnerable and raw. A moment that should have been private.
"And that was supposed to be between you and me," Katniss says quietly. I turn my hand over and twine our fingers together, braving a look at her once more.
"I don't want people taking this from us," she continues sadly. "This is private. It's one of the only things we have left and I don't want anyone taking it away. And I know we have to do what Coin is saying. We have to be their…Mockingjays or whatever stupid names they want to call us. We don't have a choice."
Katniss heaves a sigh and closes her eyes.
"I just want for us to be left alone," she finishes.
We sit together in silence for a while as I try to come up with an idea to somehow make this better. We're always being ordered around, being exploited for the 'greater good'. Fuck, how I want to be left alone. I don't want them extracting what we have and using it. I don't want to be on guard all the time, too scared to be affectionate with Katniss because I don't want some crew member from 13 capturing the brief moments we have and broadcasting them to the country. For once, I want to be in control of something.
"We'll reverse it, then," I say. Katniss opens her eyes to look at me. Her brow creases in confusion and I scoot closer to her and rest my hand on her cheek for a moment before running my fingers over her lips.
"During the Victory Tour, we were expected to act out our relationship in front of everyone. But they didn't own us when we were behind closed doors. When we were alone we didn't have to pretend." I drop my hand into my lap but keep my gaze on her. "In public we won't…we won't do anything. If we don't show them how we care about each other, they'll have nothing to take away from us. Of course we'll have to listen to them to film those segments but that'll be it."
Katniss tilts her head to the side, perplexed, so I continue.
"It's the same as the Tour, isn't it? Only this time we won't 'act out' our relationship with everyone watching. We won't do that because it's not fair to us. But when we're alone…well…when we're alone we don't have to worry about pretending or not. We don't have to act out anything. So I guess what I'm saying is…let's not give them anything in public, but when we're alone we can be ourselves. We can control it, this time."
I have no idea if I'm making sense or not. I just know that if we're free to be ourselves behind closed doors, when no one is watching, our relationship won't feel as strained or as fabricated. If we take control of something, maybe I'll feel less lost. Katniss stares at me for a few seconds, frowning.
"But they shouldn't be able to…what if I want to kiss you in the cafeteria? Or in the hallway?"
I laugh at this, which I'm pretty sure is the opposite affect Katniss' statement was supposed to have. She scowls at me but I press my finger into her cheek, making it very hard for her to keep her scowl in place.
"Katniss, lets be honest. It's not like you to draw attention to yourself that way. You're a very private person, which is kind of why I suggested this in the first place. And besides, if I'm being honest I always preferred the kisses you give me when no one is watching," I tell her meaningfully.
That's not to say I don't enjoy Katniss' kisses in front of everyone, because I do. I'm only human, after all. But whenever Katniss kissed me in public a large part of me wondered whether or not it was real or if it was for the cameras. But when Katniss kissed me when we were alone—when no one in the world was there to watch us—I knew those kisses were honest and true and very, very real. When Katniss doesn't speak I continue.
"We'll keep this private between us. Until things start to become less confusing, we won't kiss or…or do anything like that in public. They can't take anything if we don't give them anything."
Katniss pauses before nodding, a slow smile replacing her previous frown. To my satisfaction, she leans forward and kisses me soundly.
Very, very real.
"Although," I say when she breaks away, "this means I probably won't be able to control myself around you when we're alone. Consider this fair warning."
Katniss pushes at my chest and laughs lightly. For now, in this moment, all is right in the world.
Over the next few days we develop a routine. We're both thrown into the segmented military life that District 13 is known for. We're both told what to do and when to do it.
7:00am: Breakfast
8:00am: Therapy
10:00am: Propo Preparation
12:00pm: Lunch
1:00pm: More Therapy
3:00pm: Military Theory Lessons
5:00pm: Dinner
6:00 pm: Free Time
8:00pm: Sleep
It's a ridiculous schedule to live by, and Katniss is clearly still getting used to it. When I go to therapy, she goes to training. While she doesn't have to fight yet, she will have to fight and Coin wanted her to start training immediately. I feel sick when I think about it. Actually, I feel sick whenever I'm not with her.
I visit Rye on my breaks and today is no different. Although we weren't necessarily the closest of friends before this whole mess, it seems as though the rift created by the Capitol and District 13 has forced us together again. If I'm looking at silver linings, I guess I could say that the Quell brought Rye and me together again. But ever since the Quell I've had a hard time seeing the silver lining in things. Unless, of course, Katniss is sitting next to me.
"I'm going crazy here. It's a good thing they're releasing me in a few days. Although don't get me wrong, it creeps me out that I'm going to be sharing a room with you and Katniss," Rye says while pulling at the bandage on his side.
I cringe visibly. I'd gotten used to being alone with Katniss and we've been…enthusiastic…with each other most nights, especially now that we barely touch in public. I don't' regret our little agreement about privacy but this only means that I'm a little harder to control when we're alone and we both get extremely affectionate with one another very quickly. Not that you can blame us, really. Who the hell goes to sleep at 8 pm, anyway?
But now I feel bad because I never thought about the consequences of sharing a room with Katniss and with Rye. I would suggest we sleep in Katniss' compartment but that would be incredibly uncomfortable with her mother and sister in the same room, even if we didn't do anything scandalous. Rye is likely to be a little more understanding.
And sleeping away from each other is out of the question.
"I'm sorry, really, it's just we can't—"
"Relax, Peet," Rye interrupts me. "I get it. I was in 12 when you were gone. I get it."
I watch as he shifts on the hospital cot, wincing slightly as he puts weight on the side of his body that was hit with the bullet.
"What was she like?" I ask, fiddling with the sleeve of my shirt. "Haymitch kind of made it seem like she was…" I trail off, unsure how to continue. No one will tell me in greater detail what happened when I was gone. Katniss doesn't like to talk about it and I haven't even seen Haymitch or Gale or Madge since the strategy meeting.
"I didn't know her before this whole mess so I'm kind of a bad person to ask about this," Rye answers. "But I can tell you she definitely wasn't…right. I don't know…whenever I went to bring over bread she would just…stare at it like it hurt just to see it."
We're both quiet for a moment.
"Thank you, Rye," I tell him, avoiding his eyes.
"For what?" he asks, confused.
"For bringing her that bread like I asked. For making sure she was all right."
If I couldn't do it, I had to make sure someone did. And although Rye and I were on rocky terms before this, like I was with the rest of my family, I knew I could count on him when it came down to it.
"Don't be too pleased with me," Rye sighs. I glance at him and I'm surprised to see that he looks rather conflicted. "It took me a while…" he trails off as he runs his fist over his eyes. "What happened…it hit all of us pretty hard. I mean, you know Mom, but Bar and Dad…"
Rye's voice dies somewhere in his throat and he blinks away a few tears. What started off as a happy discussion about being released from the hospital has turned into something sad very quickly and I find myself getting upset as well. I've been able to distract myself and not think too much about the bombing.
"Do you think they'll come back?" Rye asks, voice thick. "Do you think they survived?"
It takes me a moment to answer him. I feel incredibly guilty because this whole time I've been concerned with Katniss when I know I should be concerned with my family, too. I love them, of course I do. But they weren't there for me at a crucial time in my life. They abandoned me when I needed them most.
Something inside of me changed during my second Games, even though all I wanted was to remain true to myself. I feel like I've become harder. Less compassionate. I'm more cynical and less open. It's why I can't really forgive them and I hate myself for it. I hate that the Capitol did this to me. I hate that I can't really sleep at night, even with Katniss next to me.
I hate a lot these days.
But it still doesn't change that my family might be dead and I'm still very worried about them.
"I don't know," I whisper back, disgusted with myself. I've become a horrible, selfish person.
For a while, the only sound is that of our breathing and the IV drip to my left. After a few long minutes Rye releases a heavy breath and changes the subject.
"Just promise me you two won't screw each other when I'm in the room."
I am currently coloring with a six-year-old. I've found out that Posy Hawthorne can be very persistent when she has a mind to be and she's insisted that we color as we wait for Katniss.
I'm clearly on edge today and much more anxious than usual.
Prim has had to tell me more than once to stop fidgeting as she cut my hair an hour or so ago (she ended up charming the rations manager into letting her borrow a pair of scissors). Although it's not my fault I'm so fidgety. Today is the first day since Katniss came to 13 that we haven't seen each other during the day. Our schedules don't match up and I didn't even get to see her at lunch because I had a surprise doctor's appointment to check on the status of my one kidney.
I'm so anxious I'm nearly vibrating but Posy has taken it upon herself to try and calm me down. I try to concentrate on the drawing in front of me but I can't seem to get my thoughts in order. I know that she's safe but I still can't shake that clawing panic I associate with whenever she's not with me. I'm so fucking pathetic.
I can't seem to get my conversation with Johanna from earlier today out of my head either. This morning during therapy she cornered me and asked a question I've been avoiding answering ever since Katniss arrived.
"Have you told Happiness about our mind-fucks, yet?"
I stumble with my weights and turn to face Johanna, who is looking at me expectantly. I sigh and put the weights down carefully before turning back to her.
"We're both a little overwhelmed currently," I mumble. I do not want to have this conversation. I'm just coming to terms with the headaches and the moments of realized panic, myself. I'm just starting to get used to the dull pain in my hip and the sharp, erratic pains in my shoulder. Why should I stress Katniss out even more when I haven't had an attack in weeks? Not to mention the fact that I'd have no idea how to tell her in the first place. Nevertheless, she still doesn't know just how messed up I am.
Johanna narrows her eyes at me and crosses her arms over her chest.
"Seriously, Peeta. What's gonna happen when you collapse and start babbling and your little girlfriend has no idea what the fuck is going on?" she asks, irritated.
I huff in annoyance and start to walk away from her. I know she's just trying to help, in the weird way she does, but this is not what I need right now. I'm worried about my role as a Mockingjay. I'm worried about Katniss' role as a Mockingjay.
I'm worried about my parents and my brother…and that I have no idea if they'll be coming back with the band of survivors from District 12 any day now.
And my shoulder is currently killing me.
"It hasn't happened in a while and I don't want to worry her. She's already freaked out enough by my lack of two kidneys," I explain. It's a white lie. Katniss is only upset about my lack of kidney because it means I'm more susceptible to injuries and sickness. She told me she asked her mother about it. At the time, I could tell she was trying very hard not to get worked up. Not to mention that we were eating dinner in the cafeteria when this happened and I had to resist the urge to pull her into my arms.
I must be making a face because Johanna scoffs at me.
"I don't get you, Blondie."
"Mr. Peeta, do you love Katty?"
Posy's voice draws me from my thoughts and the marker I'm using to color my drawing of a forest slides a little on the paper.
"Katty?" I question. Posy pushes her dark hair away from her face and then continues to color the abstract-looking dog she's been working on.
"She's talking about Katniss," Prim says from the other side of the sofa, not even bothering to look up from her drawing of a goat. I turn back to Posy who is struggling to keep the pink marker inside the lines of her picture.
"Yes, I do Posy," I answer, bringing my green marker back down to the paper.
Posy nods and then speaks again.
"And she loves you?"
I halt in my drawing again and turn to look at Prim, who doesn't seem to be bothered by our conversation in the least. I wonder why this littler girl is asking these questions. Did Gale tell her something? I know that he still harbors ill feelings towards me, which I can understand on some level, but to communicate them to his little sister is a little much. Maybe she doubts our feelings towards one another because of our lack of affection in public.
I'm definitely over-thinking things but I answer Posy anyway.
"Yes, ma'am," I tell her purposefully. I'd probably be concerned about our lack of affection towards one another in public, too.
But then I remember the way Katniss nearly ripped off my clothes last night after dinner.
Posy nods once more. I'm about to abandon the subject when she speaks again and what she says makes my heart sink to my knees.
"And that's why Katty was so sad when you were gone? That's why she was so sleepy all the time and wouldn't leave her bed?"
I rip my eyes from my drawing and focus on Posy, who is still coloring her dog a bright pink. Prim has stiffened next to me and I try to swallow the lump in my throat. I still get this way when people mention months after the Quell, what little they will divulge, that is. But there's something about hearing this from Posy that hits a little closer to home.
Maybe it's because Katniss refuses to tell me what exactly happened. She refuses to tell me how she got the thin, white scars on her hands. I'd ask Haymitch or Gale or Madge if I could find any of them. I recently found out the reason they're all MIA is because they've been busy with strategic planning for the rebellion. They're never around.
"Posy, will you draw me a flower?" Prim asks, changing the subject. I breathe through my nose and focus on coloring in the trees of the forest on my paper.
Katniss comes in a few minutes later, and when I hear her open the door I shoot up off the sofa so quickly my knee cracks. I think I startled Posy but once she sees the enormous smile on my face, any worries the little girl had seem to dissolve.
Katniss looks tired and her hair is coming out of its braid. She's been in training (I know because I unconsciously memorized her schedule). She scans the room and finds Posy and Prim coloring by the coffee table. Her eyes lock on mine across the room and she grimaces.
"Are we having a party or something?" she asks, pushing a stray piece of hair across her face. I can't take it anymore, so I all but jump over the couch to meet her at the door. When I reach her, I grab her face in my hands and kiss her swiftly on the lips.
She stiffens momentarily, probably because of the two girls already in the room, but I don't care. I haven't seen her since this morning. When I break away I start to plaster her face with kisses—her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, her chin—and the wet smacking sounds I'm making cause Posy to start giggling uncontrollably.
"Someone's extra friendly today," Katniss says, squirming in my arms, probably uncomfortable with the PDA. We're not in public, though, and Prim has seen us kiss before. Besides, I already warned her about this. I couldn't control myself if I wanted to at this point. I've been so anxious all day and sometimes the only way to feel better is to be sickeningly sweet with Katniss.
I smile, snake my arms over her shoulders and around her back, and start to trail my kisses down her neck. It's more theatrical than sexy at this point, and I feel Katniss start to laugh quietly.
When I pull away, I take her hand and lead her to the couch. She sits down next to me but I've missed her so much I just end up shifting her so she's on my lap. Katniss blushes and she makes eye contact with a smiling Prim, but doesn't move away.
"I missed you," I state matter-of-factly. Katniss smiles and cups my jaw with one hand, running her thumb along my chin. She can see it in my eyes that I've had a troubling day.
As much as I loved having Prim and Posy here, I want them to leave.
"Did you?" she asks, sarcasm leaking from the words. I try to think of a response but just end up smiling stupidly at her. It seems as though my worries melt away when she's with me and my body feels infinitely lighter. Right now I don't feel like I'm stuck underground, forced to be involved in a war I want nothing to do with. Right now I'm happy.
Katniss shifts a little and puts her head on my shoulder, shutting her eyes for a moment. Prim and Posy might as well be gone because I can really only concentrate on the girl in my arms. It has me smiling like a maniac and I think I might actually look slightly deranged.
I lean my head close to hers and when my lips are barely grazing her ear I speak.
"I love you," I whisper. We aren't overzealous with the words, really. We both know the truth at this point. But what Posy said earlier has me feeling sentimental.
Katniss opens her eyes and grins. I'm not expecting her to say it back to me, which only makes her whispered 'I love you, too' that much better. I fear my smile may literally crack a hole in my face so I hide it in her hair.
"You two are being particularly adorable today," Prim points out from her place on the couch. I beam and Katniss scowls.
Well, it was nice while it lasted. I'm about to tell the two of them as much when the apartment door swings open and Katniss jumps slightly in my arms. My head swivels at the sound and I see Rye standing at the door, shoulders slumped and eyes puffy and red.
The joy I felt two seconds ago leaks out of me at the sight of him and an ice-cold feeling trickles down my neck, filling me slowly and completely. He doesn't have to say anything.
I know already.
"Peet," he whispers, voice cracking.
The District 12 survivors arrived and my family isn't with them.