Do you know how HARD it is to type with your left hand only? Wow…

oOo

Now with things slightly less awkward, Peeta let me stay for dinner. Well, more like I wouldn't leave until he finally offered me food. Sitting at the table with hot bowls of stew and chunks of dill bread in front of us felt good, like the old times. Neither of us said anything during the whole meal, and it was only until our bowls were scraped clean Peeta leaned back in his chair.

"It's been a while since I've made stew." He noted indifferently.

The last time I remembered actually making stew was in the Games, but I didn't say that. Since my attention was no longer on the meal, my mind had wandered. To stay or not to stay? Meaning, obviously, the concern of Peeta's offer was still suspended in the air.

Most of the weirdness from earlier had vanished, leaving me feeling perfectly fine standing up and drifting into the bathroom. I didn't need to go, so I just propped my elbows on the counter and stared at my bedraggled reflection in the mirror. Circles under my eyes, messy strands of hair sticking up every which way from my braid, cracked lips, a hollow glow in my eyes, today a dull gray instead of their usual silver.

I didn't feel like total crap, to my surprise. My heart ached, yes, but the feeling of utter despair and suicidal leanings were gone for the most part. Thoughts tangled together in my brain madly, intertwining themselves in others, making it impossible to think about one single thing. I didn't know whether to be happy or sad, to decide to be well or depressingly under par, to give in to my current feelings for Peeta or let myself mourn over Gale.

I needed a long break, away from my brain, just to sit in the grass having small-minded thoughts, perhaps with Peeta at my side.

A sudden movement at my right made my eyes flick upwards, alarmed, knocking me out of my reverie. Peeta had appeared right next to me (never mind the fact I was in the bathroom; this was normal for me) and leaned on the counter, too. He didn't wrap his arms around me and put his face in my neck, or even smooth back my hair with a hand like he usually did.

A charismatic little crease appeared between his eyebrows, but remained silent for a few seconds. "This is probably a bad time, and maybe even ludicrous judging by what happened last time, but I'm open for a walk in the town or the woods if you want to talk about anything."

For a split second I mulled this over, and after deeming it harmless, I stood up a bit straighter, pulling my elbows off the bathroom counter. "Let's go."

Though nothing was said as we walked out of the house, a mutual agreement of avoiding the woods spread between us. Peeta and I didn't hold hands, and didn't even talk for the longest time. We passed people at different shops, chatting quietly to one another, sharing ideas and pieces of gossip. Most of them ignored me and Peeta, though the occasional head turned to stare at us. We were famous; it was no news to me.

At the opposite edge of the town, maybe an hour later, the tree line loomed 'hello' at us sooner than I expected. Peeta and I paused under a wide fan of tree branches. Here it was more melted and less slushy. In fact, there was one patch completely dry, brown grass stuck to the ground. It was there we wordlessly sat.

Breathing in the sweet scent of springtime, I leaned back on my hands to stare up at the sky. It was covered mostly with thin, puffy clouds, but where the sky shone through it was a brilliant blue.

Peeta settled down next to me, leaning back the way I did. His fingers covered mine. "Like I said before, if there's anything you want to talk about…" He glanced over at me with a sort of, sympathetic half–smile on.

"There's nothing really to talk about." Not unkindly, I drew my hand back from his and pulled my knees into my chest. "I just…" Cold air rushed into my lungs involuntarily. I let it back out slowly. "Visions keep flashing in my head; memories for before. Some of them real and horrid, some of them just made up. The few minutes before I blew up the gunpowder. The day before I got the surgery done. Flashes of old tributes in my head. Gale. Alexis. Madge. Your family. They all died because of me." I rested my chin on my knees. "All of them."

Peeta didn't risk taking my hand again, but he sat up as well and gently pressed the side of his body to mine comfortingly. "No, they didn't."

A lump was building in my throat again, and I swallowed it down. "But I could have stopped their deaths. They could have been alive today. Alive and well."

"Katniss, everything happens for a reason, and none of them was your fault. Every death that has happened after we were reaped played an important part of getting us where we are now. If every single thing that had happened hadn't happened, we wouldn't be sitting here right now. We might still be in District 13, or trapped in the Capitol with President Snow torturing us, or even dead. I know it's hard, I know it hurts. But would you rather everyone be dead?" He touched a finger to my cheek, so gently I could barely feel it. "It's your fault we're all alive."

It seemed like this happened often, Peeta making such a good point it made me angry. I buried my eyes in my knees. "But Gale's dead. I never imagined having to sacrifice him for everyone else's freedom. If I did save them all, couldn't I have something in return?" I looked up, tears shining in my eyes. "Is the life of my best friend too much to ask?"

With a sympathetic moan, Peeta's arm went around me and I was squeezed against his side. "That's war, love. I'm not saying I mind. It's killing me to watch you be this hurt, but war is not fair or merciful. I say we should be lucky to have each other. I didn't expect even this to happen, you and me living to see the day we'd be sitting on the grass back at home with the Capitol done and gone."

Neither did I, to be honest. We were lucky to have this much after what happened. For a moment more I was quiet. "Did I tell you what President Snow said about Alexis before I killed him?"

Funny enough, I was able to say her name. Before, it hurt so much just thinking about my daughter and her death, I couldn't even say those three little syllables. It still hurt, but suppressed, covered by fresh hurt.

Peeta brushed my hair away from my neck. "What did he say?"

"He didn't tell the doctor to kill her. Dr. Longarden was also a spy, more…professional then my prep team I suppose." I said that so casually, I nearly surprised myself. "But Snow played no part in Alexis' death. He was supposed to take her for himself for more experiments or whatever, but for some reason Dr. Longarden felt the urge to actually kill her."

There was a moment of silence.

"Just thought you ought to know." My attention was turned back to the yellowish grass, and I began plucking strands from the cold ground to distract me, and hopefully cool the upset feeling in my gut and throat.

Peeta remained soundless, his fingers making subconscious circles on the back of my neck, sending shivers running down my spine. Finally, he brought his hand back away from my neck and curled it again around my waist. "There's always tomorrow, you know. We have time now to consider these things before they're pushed upon us."

I knew what he was talking about, but my mind was too full to think of anything that major right now. But instead of plunging in to that topic, I just turned my head sideways on my knees. "Yeah."

Several times, Peeta opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. After ten minutes, he stood up. "It's getting late. We should be going."

He helped me up, except I didn't let go of his hand. It helped keep me steady as we walked. Again, feelings bubbled inside me, again turning to the question that was asked earlier.

This time it took only forty-five minutes to get from our patch of grass to Peeta's doorstep. We stood there, unsure what to say.

Peeta was especially unsure. He didn't want to insult me or scare me off, still precautious of my sanity. He bit his lip and swayed towards his door and away again. But it was me who spoke first.

"Hey, Peeta?"

He seemed grateful for something to occupy the dreadfully awkward silence. "Yeah?"

"I've thoughts about your question you asked earlier."

"And?" Another darling crease appeared between his eyebrows.

My eyes wandered around, finally resting on his face. "I still don't know what I really want, and I may never, but it's hard to think of 'the long run' right now. But I decided I want to stay with you and try to be normal for now, doing my best not to lament too much over things I can't change."

The relief spreading Peeta's smile across his face was just…gah. I had no problem accepting his hug and leaning gratefully against the familiar shape of his chest. Hands went into my hair, smoothing it back again and again.

"I had to admit I was a bit worried there for a bit." He said, pressing his cheek against the top of my head. "I wouldn't put running away from civilization into the woods past you."

"Nah." There was no way I was letting go of this boy any time soon. The muscles in my legs were beginning to shake, and I was going to collapse if it weren't for the strong arms around me. "I love you too much." Though the statement was foolish and true t the same time, I felt guilty to Mother and Primrose for not including them on the list of people I love, but if I list everyone, the special feeling would be lost.

A weak laugh shook Peeta's chest. "You have no idea how much I've missed you saying that."

It's been six months since I whispered the words into half-asleep Peeta's ear and gotten a mumbled reply back. I felt like repeating it over and over right now, but I refrained from doing so. "Well, you have no idea how much I've missed feeling it."

Silence followed for a few minutes when we just stood on the porch wrapped in each others' arms as the sun dipped below the horizon, fading pink streaks disappearing rapidly. Then Peeta spoke.

"I guess it wouldn't be too weird of an offer for you to stay the night, would it?" He took a tiny step back to be able to see my face.

I shook my head. "I would have stayed even if you didn't ask."

Something tickled my cheek, and I thought it was just a strand of hair, so I swept my finger back to my ear, but it wasn't my hair. Again, I touched my cheekbone and felt it cold and wet. If I had a dime for every time I caught myself crying without realizing it…

Wordlessly, Peeta took my hand and tugged me into the warmth and light of his house, shutting the door behind us. Our hands remained linked the entire time we climbed the stairs (really hard, seeing as how they were narrow) and without even bothering to change into pajamas, I crawled into Peeta's bed next to him. But I couldn't find myself thinking it was enough just to be wrapped in his arms. It's not like I could morph into his skin exactly, but I was surprised when Peeta slid back against the headboard and motioned for me to climb onto his lap.

Having the feeling of déjà-vu sweep over me was comforting and weird at the same time. Kind of like a bowl of really delicious pasta. The texture is all squirmy, but makes every other part of you happy.

I scooted into Peeta's lap and felt his arms twine around me from behind. His knees bent on either side of me and it was only until then, I realized truly how much I missed him.

This was not something Gale could have given me. He was too fueled with rage, too firm and unyielding. I needed someone less like me to balance it out. Peeta was gentle and compassionate, easing the worst of my indiscretion. We push and pulled each others' existence, and Gale would have never been able to accomplish that, even if we spent years together. Never would we have been completely happy.

Out of nowhere, a sob built itself in my throat and I only had time to cover my mouth before it spilt out in a wave of emotion and tears. My body trembled as visions of my old best friend flooded my mind, burning an uncontrollable scar across the path of my memory. Emotional pain like fire raced through my veins and it was all Peeta's arms could do to keep me from losing it. I was crumbling into nothingness, and every part of my pain was underestimated. Peeta would never understand.

But, nevertheless, he held me tightly as I cried. He whispered words of comfort in my ear as I cried, too weak to do anything but. It was times like these that fed my foolish suicidal leanings. The feeling of the lack of self-control, the completely hopelessness of ever feeling happy again. I had Peeta, I had my family, but why was I still feeling like a giant hole was punched through my heart? Nothing could ever fixed me, numb the pain…

Except, of course, when Peeta kisses me. Immediately, my brain melted through my ears and only the sound of my pounding heart thrummed in my ears. I trembled, but it was easier to control my heartbeat. The fire in my chest was being quelled almost forcefully, as if a forest fire being snuffed by water, only to have the forest be destroyed by the liquid. It was a nice liquid, though.

Peeta kept his mouth firm on mine, fingers working gently in my hair. The tears were almost gone, as if by magic, but I was no doubt going to cry again if he didn't stop soon.

My lungs suddenly decided they didn't need oxygen. The urge to breath no longer sprang up in my mind, but unfortunately, it did for him. Peeta pulled away, panting, but his hands remained in my hair, his eyes locked on mine. I noticed his were wet as well.

I was going to cry again, I just knew it. I was going to burst out into tears and Peeta'll just have to kiss me again, and we'll go around in circles like this until one of us explodes. But unfortunately, there was no exploding today, because I only had time to register the shine in his beautiful blue irises before he had closed his eyes and leaned forwards to kiss me once more. But this time, it was gentle.

Peeta's mouth parted beneath mine and for a second I could taste his hot breath in my own throat. It threatened to engulf me, to swallow me up until I was carried off into oblivion, just me and Peeta. Sparks flying, bodies pressed close together, I wanted nothing more than to be with him. He made all my pain vanish into thin air, and I needed it like an oh-so-addictive drug. And that's what he was.

When we pulled away, I forced myself not to look into Peeta's eyes as I crawled off his lap and under the covers next to him. My eyelids were shut tight against the fabric of his shirt, and, like many times, he just tucked the blankets up to my chin and kissed my forehead. "Sleep tight, love."

And I did. Well, for a while.

oOo

Oh boy. I shouldn't have written this at 2:30 in the morning… I couldn't stop giggling my butt off because all the fluff was just too much. PHEW. It's going to be hard to sleep, thinking about making out with Peeta all night. Teehee… I'm in a weird mood right now, so if any of you paid too much attention to the pasta joke, I'm laughing like CRAZY right now because of it. And the funny thing is that I haven't had any coffee today. Actually, the stuff is gross … RAMBLE ALERT. Shutting up. Anyways, please review! You know you want to.