Sorry it took so long getting this out. I was waiting until I had the chapter after this done. :DD Enjoy!

oOo

In the night, I was awakened with a sharp breath raked from inside of my own lungs. My heart was pounding out of my chest, but try as I might, there were no images in my head that told me of my nightmare. In fact, all I remembered was a dark and uneventful night, which was rare. And even rarer judging by the previous events of yesterday.

I slowly opened my eyes and had to bite back a relieved sigh. Peeta was still there; it hadn't been a dream. His cheeks were still stained with tears, bother of ours probably. Shadows cast by the moonlight through the window snuck in and onto his face, where they lit the hollows in Peeta's face in contrast. It was obvious he had been having a rough time. There was no denying it whatsoever.

But something odd about the situation stumped me. It was unlike nearly every night I had woken up next to him. The strong arms that had held me so many times before were not securely wrapped around my waist like they ought to be. In fact, he wasn't touching me at all. We were on completely different sides of the bed, and he wasn't even under the covers. It looked as if he had fallen asleep awkwardly, not comfortable or at ease sharing this bed with me.

There was only a split-second of hesitation on my part before I leaned over and pressed my body against his, yearning for the warmth it had once provided if nothing else.

Peeta stirred against me and I felt him come around. His hand brushed my shoulder. "Katniss?" His voice was barely audible, to quiet for a whisper.

For a second I was silent, but then pulled away from his chest to see his eyes glowing in the dim light. "I'm sorry, Peeta." My voice was just as quiet as his. There were a lot of things I could apologize for, but only one was affecting me more than the others. "I never meant to hurt you."

If I had thought he would put his arms around me then, I was disappointed.

Peeta just swallowed and reciprocated the silence. What was with this? Did he actually change his mind? And if not, why wasn't he holding me, or-or saying anything at all?

"Say something." I pleaded in a low voice, wetness threatening to form in my eyes again.

"What do you want me to say?" He was still using the same undertone as before, not hinting one way or the other.

"Tell me you aren't angry at me. Tell me you don't hate me. Tell me it isn't too late." My throat closed up, tears welling again in my eyes. "Tell me you still love me, because I can't bear every second you're silent."

There was a moment when I saw the same look of grief in Peeta's eyes. I saw the pulsing of his heartbeat in his neck and the trembling of his lips. "I can't."

"But why?" I felt panic slam into my chest, then horrid fire of self-hatred rise in my chest. It heated my cheeks and scalded my heart so badly I tore the covers off and stomped away from the bed. It was there I stood, across the room with my back to Peeta. Despite my previous thoughts, no tears came. I was too dry to sob any more. All that registered to me was the feeling of torture in my chest. Is this really it? He didn't want me anymore?

A light hand brushed across my neck, cold. A shiver raked down my back but I remained standing, not facing him.

"Because I'm afraid I'll lose you again, Katniss." His hand brushed down my shoulder, and trailed to my wrist, which he encircled in his artist fingers. "I can't say I love you because it'll just hurt more when I lose you."

"When" he lost me. Not "if". I took a shaky breath. "But you won't lose me. I'm always going to be here. I promise."

Things were quiet for a few more seconds, only my jagged breaths cutting the dim air. But he didn't wait for anything else to be said, because before I knew it, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, turning my body against his. Arms locked around my waist and hands twined in my hair.

"In that case…" Peeta took a deep breath and slid his hand under my chin. "I love you, Katniss. I love you, and I'll never leave you. I don't hate you. It's never too late. I can't stop and say what'll happen to me if you leave, because I have my whole life ahead of me. And it's all yours, if you'll—"

What he was going to say probably was going to be deep and profound. We both were probably going to cry our heads off and sob into each others' hair. But I didn't give him the last few words. I pressed my lips against his the world fell away.

It was slow and hesitant at first, but after a second, Peeta's eyes slid close and he pulled me tighter to his body, deepening the kiss. With the contact, I felt the rapid skip of his heart through my shirt, and became dizzy. Oblivious to the tears running down both our faces and the ragged breaths coming from both our mouths, we floated off into space.

No longer were our feet stuck to the hard floorboards of Peeta's room, but were tangled together on the clouds in the sky. No longer were our hands just wrapped around each others' torsos, but everywhere. We were not on the world; we were the world. Nothing existed except Peeta and his lips that were pressed gently against mine.

His hand tugged on mine and we parted, but only long enough to have the support of the bed under us. I was no longer worried about falling down and hitting my head and passing out or something like that. Now there was nothing stopped us.

Except, of course, Peeta's lovely morality.

He pulled back before anything could get too serious, but allowed us a few minutes of air before he scolded me. I was use to this, of course.

"Katniss, I can't." He said, panting slightly.

Instead of arguing, I just let my gaze slide away from his, only slightly ashamed. "I know."

"But I want to. Believe me, I do." Peeta must have thought he was upsetting me, because there was that tone of his voice I recognized. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I still avoided his gaze, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. "I understand. I wouldn't have asked that much of you."

There was a slight laugh, deep and amused from Peeta's chest. "You say that as if it's totally necessary, and I'm a bad guy for not letting us."

Funny how the word was never spoken. "It's not that…" There was something weighing my mind that made me swallow and shift away from Peeta.

A few seconds past when he just looked sad and contemplative. Then Peeta glanced over his shoulder at the clock. "It's not too early. Come on," His fingers curled around mine and I was being pulled out the door.

Taking a minute to toss on shoes and coats, we stopped, but kept going shortly after.

I had no clue where he was leading me, or if I would even be able to go that far; my leg were feeling like jelly, an aftereffect from the previous six months; eating next to nothing, planning suicide, thinking Peeta was never coming back then having him come back, the reunion even I wouldn't have imagined, and the weird behavior exchanged between us.

Peeta kept a firm hold of my hand as he led me outside, and—strangely enough—the opposite direction into the woods. I started to get nervous. The woods were not a good place for me to be. My feet skidded along the grass, hesitating going any further.

Peeta glanced back at me with a protective look. "Don't worry, Katniss. I've got you."

Something swelled in my chest and I nodded. After that, I had no trouble following beside him, weaving around trees and feeling a distinct touch of recognition. I knew where we were going. And that fact made things even worse.

In just a few minutes, we stumbled into the small clearing I knew only too well. Winter obscured most facts in my memories, but the ice floating gently on the surface of the lake and the white stuff coating nearly every inch of the minute cabin next to it didn't blur my mind completely. This was the beautiful pond I had learned to swim in, the one I had cleaned my catches at and had hung out with Gale.

A painful lurch caught my chest and I had to swallow hard to get rid of the feeling. It was so gorgeous lit in the moonlight like this, so why was I feeling so broken? I knew why. But I said nothing as Peeta led me to sit down next to him. Instead of seating myself parallel with him, I curled up perpendicular and rested my head on his stomach.

Though it was a cold March morning, I felt no frigid air biting into my face and hands. A warm feeling was spreading from my heart outwards, filling me with tears, both happy and sad. The heat of Peeta's skin was leaking through his shirt and jacket, and I felt it drape over me like a blanket. His torso shifted with every breath he took, and if I was really still, I could feel the slow heartbeat beneath me.

"Katniss?" His voice and gentle finger on my cheek opened my eyes and I looked up at him. His blue eyes were staring down at me with a slightly sad look in his eyes. "This isn't how I wanted things. This isn't how I planned it."

"Me neither…" My voice was a low murmur, and I let my lid slide shut again.

He paused for a few seconds, and then spoke again, quietly as if to himself. "...What were you thinking?"

At the words, I immediately knew what he meant, and my throat closed up. I was tempted to say 'I don't know', but the horrible thing was that I did know. Should I lie and tell him that? No. No, he deserved to know what was going through my head the moment I was poised at the edge of the cliff, arms open like a bird.

I was shattered, obviously. As I stood perched of the cliff edge, I imaged myself falling. Like a baby bird, in its plummet to the ground, I had hoped that at the last second I would sprout wings. The wind would catch under me and I would soar. Soar beyond this world to a next, where everything was fine.

Best friends wouldn't be murdered by other friends, a white rose wouldn't be a symbol of death, and there would be no choosing between those I love. There would be no pain. I would take those wings and be alive again. It had been months, maybe years since I've actually felt alive.

But I did not share this bit of thoughts with Peeta. No, I just decided to start from the beginning and try not to loose it.

"When I shot the arrow into the gunpowder stash, I had only one thought in my head; get my family out alive and well. I wanted to have the parents never worry about their children at reaping every year. I wanted them to be free. But the second I woke up in that hospital bed, I was anything but. I felt like I was on fire, and I wanted to get free, but there were shackles on my hands and neck and feet. I wanted to run. But I couldn't." I took a breath.

Peeta remained silent, listening to my story that no one knew.

"For two months, I was in solitary confinement. There was only one doctor who saw me, and he never spoke. The only reality I knew was the white hospital ceiling in the day and the black fog of the morphling at night. Nutrients and water were provided with the stuff through my IV. I didn't eat or drink anything, and I never spoke. The only information the doctor needed was blinking on his computer screen.

"The beginning of the third month, the restraints were removed, but I was not allowed to move. Morphling was in my system 24/7, and I dipped in and out of consciousness for a month. But slowly, I was allowed to get up and stretch. My bones had grown thin from the lack of use. But I was recovering.

"It was the first week of December—I kept track on the wall—I woke up to the eyes of Prim and Mother. They were crying and hugging me, and I did nothing. It was like I barely knew them. Every part of my body hurt, and after being in incarceration for that long, I had grown sick. Not physically, but mentally. And I knew it.

"The doctors tried everything to fix me, but the depression was stuck deep." I paused for a long time, letting it soak in. At the end of five minutes, I could tell Peeta thought I was done, so I interrupted him, carrying on. "They let us go home last month. I was still not well, though. In the accompaniment of someone else, I was allowed to go out. Everyone thought it would help. But the only thing I did while sitting on my hill was how ironic this was. I had just defeated the Capitol. I had saved Panem from an eternity of the Capitols' domination. I was back at home in District 12 with my family. But I had never felt so alone. I hadn't heard of you since the week my mother and Prim first saw me. They said it was rumored you went back home. That was all I knew."

Peeta stroked his thumb against my cheekbone. "You were back home. So was I. Why didn't we hear about each other being less than a mile away, and why didn't we do anything about it?"

My voice was growing quieter, due to my not talking for months at a time. This was more than I had talked in a really long time. "My arrival in District 12 was kept a secret. And I was in house arrest most of the time. No one was allowed in, no one allowed out. The only people that were allowed to see me were Prim, Mother, and my assigned guard. But even if I wasn't on house arrest, I had no idea you were actually back. I didn't pay attention to 'rumors'. I thought you had changed your mind about me. I thought you were gone forever."

Peeta swallowed audibly and kept his hand to my face. "I thought you were, too. But tell me about yesterday. Everything that was on your mind."

"Why?" I felt some of the cold from the air leak into my clothes and I shivered once.

"Because I need to know."

That was hardly an answer. But Peeta, being Peeta, wasn't going to settle for anything except.

Wishing I was elsewhere, I began. "I had had enough. I'd had enough of being lonely. I'd had enough of feeling like dying, of lying in bed crying my eyes out, of waking up in the middle of the night screaming with no one there to comfort me. I was sick of seeing everyone smile as if it was all okay, but none of them felt what I was—am—feeling. They didn't know how broken I am. None of them could look at me and guess that I wanted to die. They knew I saved the country. They knew my family had gotten out alive. They immediately assumed that being alive meant happiness. But there's a difference between existing and living. I'm broken." If I had a coin for every time I've said that.

There was a pause, in which Peeta let out a breath I hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Last week I was allowed to stay alone outside, only a guard escorting me there and back. That little hill was my sanctuary. It provided a perfect view of the town I was leaving. It provided a perfect place to say goodbye. And I was ready. That day—yesterday—was my three day mark of not eating. I planned to start running into the forest and just to never come back out."

"You were planning to kill yourself." Peeta's voice was shocked and upset, tears swelling his throat as well. "I knew that but to hear it in words hurts."

"I know." That was all I said in response to his words, though. "I was ready to do it when you showed up. That spare second I had stopped to look out at the town saved me, I guess. Because you appeared behind me right then."

"And you ran." Peeta seemed to have wanted to say something else, but he just gave a small cough.

A guilty feeling settled, nice and cozy in my chest, making me want to puke. "Yes, I ran. I thought I was hallucinating. After six months not seeing you, I had thought my mind was just playing tricks on me. It was only until when I turned back to look at you on-on the cliff, and I saw that look in your eyes." A bitter laugh escaped my lips, along with tears from my eyes. "And I had thought I had wanted to die before that…"

A half-sob-half-gasp jolted Peeta's stomach and I felt him reach his arms out to me. He pulled me into his chest so suddenly I had no time to respond before we were being pressed together, crying. One of Peeta's hands had wound fingers through my hair, and the other was clenching into fists, over and over on my back.

I had gripped the front of his shirt in my weak fingers, clamping it against my eyes. In other circumstances, doing that would have seemed like I was attempting to rip his shirt off (it embarrassed me just thinking of it at this time), but all I wanted was this pain to stop, to go away.

After a minute more of crying, I was able to prop myself up against Peeta's body, but the second I did, I found both his hands cupping my face. I was forced to look straight into tear-filled, tortured eyes of his, and tried not to cry myself.

"Katniss, promise me something. Promise me," His voice was a little shaky, and very wet, but the gentle hands on my face held steady. "that no matter how bad—" He swallowed, and corrected himself. "Even if you're alone, and you're in pain, and you feel like that. Even if you haven't seen me in three years. Even if you have changed your mind, I will always love you. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, you will always be the most important thing in my life, and you always have me to live for if nothing else."

There was just barely a second pause, when Peeta let his words catch. "I will love you until the end of time, don't ever doubt that. Don't ever doubt that I wouldn't come back home to you. Promise me that at times like that, think of me and how much I need you, and think of times like these we have together. Promise me that I'll be there in your thoughts to save you if the real me can't be there. Promise me that you'll never doubt my love for you, and you'll never doubt your own."

Time passed. A minute. Two minutes. Fifteen minutes. We were both frozen, as if time itself had stopped in its tracks, waiting for my answer. But finally, I lifted my eyes back up to meet the blue ones I love so much.

A shiver ran up my spine, and my leaning forwards was in slow motion. But I got the words out.

"I promise."