I wake from a cold gust of air. Why is the window open? I roll over to find a blonde male sound asleep. I forgot Peeta slept over. He's snoring softly. I have a smile and fall asleep once more.
When the sun is fully up, I awake too. An arm is still draped across my torso. The blue meets the grey.
"No nightmares?" He asks, not fully awake just yet.
"No nightmares." I blink and yawn obnoxiously, trying to adjust to the light.
"It worked for both of us then." He smiles; I do too -which is a very rare thing for me, but it's been happening more often.
"I appreciate this" He says and then continues "It's nice to know we can kind of pick up where we left off. Not to mention I enjoy the sleep." He starts to get up from the bed, I grab his hand quickly. He moves a piece of hair from my face.
"Stay." He lies back down; I curl into his chest. With his arms around me, I feel safe.
"Always." He whispers.
We spend the day in bed-drifting in and out of sleep. Then the questions start.
"You wanted to save me in the Quarter Quell-real or not real?"
"Real, Haymitch chose me the first time; the second was your turn to live."
"We called out each for each other before the end- real or not real?"
"Real, we should've been together. Then we wouldn't be in this mess."
He is finally getting the answers he so desperately deserves. We're both asleep when I hear a door slam from downstairs, and Haymitch's voice.
"That baker boy has a stash!" Peeta is awake too from the sound of the door. The two of us stay silent. But the shouts become louder. There are footsteps on the stairs. Our eyes grow wide. Peeta and I are still sitting as motionless and silent as we can.
Haymitch shouts
"Come to think of it- you both have a stash! I'll find it. I'm not leaving without it!" It's true, he won't leave without it, so I gesture Peeta to the bathroom. He tries to be as quiet as possible but with a prosthetic leg isn't virtually impossible. Thud! Haymitch swings the bedroom door open. I'm standing there like a deer who has just met his match, and poor Peeta is on the floor. My old mentor's eyes go from Peeta, to me, from me to Peeta.
Peeta whispers "I'm sorry." It's not loud enough for Haymitch to hear though. We all are exchanging glances Haymitch lets out a small chuckle, an amused grin makes it way across his worn face.
"Well, well, well. Do you want to explain Sweetheart?"
My eyes squint at him.
"-really none of your business is it?" I snap at him.
Peeta is getting back to him feet slowly.
"Katniss. It is okay." He says in a calm tone.
Haymitch chimes in.
"Yeah, it's okay. It's not something I thought I would live to see again."
I roll my eyes in frustration. Why can't Peeta just be a little less kind sometimes? He could've just kept his mouth shut. Peeta takes a seat on the edge of my bed.
"So how're you?" He asks Haymitch.
"I'd ask you the same question, but I already know the answer." I scowl.
Haymitch continues; "I'd ask about my star-crossed lovers, but all I really want is a drink. And I know you have it stashed in the bathroom here."
"We are not star-crossed lovers." I state very bluntly. Peeta stares at me. I look his way at catch his gaze.
"-Seems like you two are too busy, so I'll get it myself." Haymitch says and walks into my bathroom. Peeta is still staring at me. His face says it all; he's confused and definitely has some questions now. I whisper "I'll explain. Promise." I walk into the bathroom to assist Haymitch. He can't find any of the alcohol he came for. I give him a sarcastic sincere apology.
"Sorry, I guess you'll have to get cleaned up now and buy it yourself. I hear the train is coming in tomorrow, around two." He curses under his breath. A door slams- at this point I am assuming it was the front door. We come out of the bathroom to any empty bedroom. I call out his name. No answer.
"Damn you Haymitch! Just when I get him to a good place, you manage to piss him off." I am in his face, he is in mine.
"You ever so clearly failed to tell him the full story!" I scream at him to leave; he obliges. I follow him downstairs and slam the door behind him violently. I go to sit down on the couch, and accidentally sit on the book. I begin to flip through it, Peeta has been adding without me. There are new illustrations of the game arenas. There are new portraits of the fallen. Finnick is one of them. Its times like these that I wish I still had the string he gave me. It kept my brain fingers busy, mind focused on something besides the mess going on around me. I spend the remainder of the day in the chair next to the window- falling in and out of sleep; my old routine. The night arrives. Slowly, I drag myself to the bed. I know I won't sleep tonight.