"Peeta!" I am pounding on the door of the immaculate Capitol creation he now calls home. The door is locked, which is not a good sign. "Peeta, please I need to talk to you!" The desperation I hear in my voice makes me feel sick and weak, but gives me hope that Peeta will detect my urgency. The door creaks open slowly just as I lift my fist to pound on the door yet again. Peeta is standing before me, his hair a mess and his eyes rimmed red, and my arm swings back to my side, useless.
"Hi Katniss," he says, his voice lacking the strength I am so used to hearing, "I was just in the other room baking some bread for the neighborhood kids and didn't hear your knock." For a such a smooth liar, he really didn't think that one through. There is no flour in his hair, no smell of cooking dough, no glint of happiness in his eyes that comes with baking. None of the tell-tale signs of Peeta's baking are present, but there are plenty of tell-tale signs of Peeta's pain surfacing that just can't be hidden.
"Can I come in?" I ask meekly, as if I've reverted back to childhood and I am asking some outrageous favor of someone incredibly intimidating.
"Uh, I was actually in the middle of-"
"Please. I need you right now and I think that you just might need me too and if we can get past these awkward exchanges then maybe it will help us deal with all the shit we're about to go through," I say, all in one breath, effectively getting him to both stop talking and back away from the door to let me pass.
I close the door behind me, and he stares at me for a full thirty seconds before offering me his hand. I take it gratefully and let him lead me into the living room. A fire is blazing in the hearth, but the house feels cold and empty. Peeta sits on the oversized couch and I follow suit, gripping his hand tighter when he tries to let go.
"Peeta, there are things I need to tell you, but you know I'm not the best with words and I'm not even really sure if anything I'm thinking will make sense when I try to say it," I say in a breathy voice that I hardly recognize as my own. I know I need to communicate with him, especially after the way Haymitch and I tried to keep the true extent of President Snow's anger from him. I owe it to him. I remind myself to breathe and wait for him to answer me.
"Just try, Katniss. I want to know what you're feeling, and you know I would never judge you on how those feelings surface. The fact that you're even attempting to talk to me about this speaks volumes," he says, his voice returning to the strong and sweet tone that I have become so accustomed to. His steadiness reassures me, and I take a deep breath before speaking.
"In a few months, I am going to be back in the Games. I will be fighting against the best of the best and nothing is going to change that. What can change is who is there with me," Peeta's shakes his head at this, predicting where I am going with the conversation, "No, let me finish. I don't want you there with me. Not because I don't want you around me, believe me I do. You're the only one who calms my nightmares and those nights on the train during the Victory Tour are the only nights I have slept peacefully in a long time," I blush furiously at admitting this, but plow on before I lose my train of thought, "I don't want you with me because I can't stand the thought of you... of you dying." I choke on the word dying and blink rapidly to try and stem the flow of my tears. Peeta squeezes my hand and lets me continue speaking. "I know you went to Haymitch already and I know you asked him to promise that you would be there with me. I know you want to protect me and I know you are going do everything you can to go into that arena with me. What you don't know is I will do anything I can to stop that. Even if you end up there with me, as long as I'm alive I will do everything in my power to make sure you make it home, because Peeta, if you die I'll die with you."
I can no longer speak through my sobs and I bury my face in my free hand. I feel strong arms encircle me and before I know it Peeta has pulled me into his lap. I grip his shoulders as he strokes my hair and rocks me in his arms, and I cannot decide whether telling him this was the best decision of my life, or the biggest mistake I've ever made. I have never been so candid with anyone about my emotions, and the things I told Peeta were things I had never even fully admitted to myself.
I chance a look into Peeta's eyes, and I see a single tear rolling down his cheek. Without thinking, I reach up and wipe the tear away. I let my hand linger on his cheek and search his face for a hint as to what he is thinking. He answers my question by pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead and whispering in my ear. "I love you, Katniss. You know I would do anything you ask of me, but this is the one exception. I will protect you until the day I die, because I am too selfish to live without you."