Chapter Five- Katniss
(Dream)
Peeta and I climb to the top of the Cornucopia, Cato panting right behind us, not wanting to be eaten by the horrifying Mutts. I turn in time to see Cato grab Peeta's leg. "No!" I scream. But I'm too late. Peeta falls backwards and slams onto the ground.
"Peeta!" I scream, the Mutts starting to surround him. "No! Please!" I sob and cover my eyes when I hear a scream filled with pain. I sense someone's eyes on me.
I open my eyes and look around. Cato stands next to me. A smirk spread across his face, a knife in his hand. He steps towards me and I raise my foot. He looks from my foot to my face in confusion. He realises what I'm doing a second too late because I'd already shoved my foot into his stomach. He flies backwards, like Peeta had and I hear the Mutts eat him up. A cannon goes off. Is it Peeta or Cato?
A moan fills my ear and I know its Peeta. "Peeta!" I yell and look over the edge. The Mutts have run off, leaving Peeta to wait in agony until he dies. I hear another moan that confirms my guess. Peeta's still alive. I climb down the large golden horn and stumble over to the bloody boy.
I kneel next to him, tears swimming freely down my face. "Please, d-don't die. I-I need y-you. I-I love you!" I sob and squeeze his hand. Despite him lying there, dying, he curls his lips. "I love you too," he whispers. He takes one last breath and then the cannon goes off.
I bolt upright, sweat exploring my shivering body. I gasp for air and look around in a panic. It fades a little when I realise I'm home. I feel my eyes widen again. Peeta! I stumble down the stairs and out the front door. I run to his house and bang on the door.
"Peeta!" I yell. No answer. The panic comes back. It wasn't a dream. He's dead. "Peeta!" I sob, tears spilling over my eyes.
I turn so my back is against his door and slide to the floor. I rest my head on my knees and the loud hiccups start. "Katniss!" a familiar voice yells but I ignore it. Peeta's gone. He's- someone puts their soft hands under me and lifts me. They push Peeta's door open and sets me on the sofa. "Hey," the soothing voice whispers and I look up to find a tired looking Peeta.
Without a warning I fling my arms around him. "Your okay?" I sob. "I'm fine. It was just a dream," he says and I sob into his shirt. It feels like an hour has past when I finally stop crying. I look up and I stare into Peeta's sky-blue eyes. The next thing I know his face is an inch away from mine and my eyes are closed.
I lean in and our lips meet. I feel the burning in my stomach. The same hunger I felt on the victory tour and in the cave. But I know this time I will have to suffer. I can't keep using Peeta. It's selfish and I can't do that to him. I've hurt him enough.
I pull away and a sad smile takes over his face. "How's my dad?" I ask, worriedly.
"He's doing… good. He's strong. If I was him I don't think I'd be here now," he replies and I shake my head.
"Don't say that," I whisper. He smiles but doesn't say anything. He pulls me to my feet and we walk to his door. "Why don't you stay here and rest?" I suggest and he shakes his head.
"I don't want to leave you," he says and I nod.
"You can sleep in my bed," I reply. "Or on the couch, you decide, I don't mind."
We enter my house and into the kitchen. I glance at my sleeping father on the large wooden table. His back is bright red and swollen. Just looking at his back makes me imagine how much that must have hurt. I turn back to Peeta. "Go rest," I order and he heads into the living room. He sits on the small couch and I sigh.
"Go sleep on my bed," I say.
"I'm fine here," he argues.
"Peeta, just do it," I reply and grab his hand.
I lead him up the stairs and into my bedroom. I switch the light on and realise how bloody his shirt is from carrying my father home. I push him closer to the bed and he stops before he can fall onto the soft mattress. I tug on the bottom of his shirt and he raises his arms. His smooth skin makes my fingers tingle as I drag the shirt over his head. I throw it onto the floor, my eyes not leaving his once.
I push him backwards again so he'll fall onto the bed but he rests his hands on my waist, making me fall onto the bed with him. I groan. I don't think he knows how hard this is for me. I look at him and find a desperate look on his face. "Stay with me?" he whispers and I want to say no. My head tells me to go downstairs and watch my father. But my heart- it says something else.
Heart or head? I sigh. "Always." I slide under the covers next to him and he puts his arms around my waist.
"Thanks," he whispers.
I gulp. What do I say now? I turn so my chest is pressed against his and I feel his warm breath on my cold skin. It's then that I realise he's asleep.
He looks peaceful when he sleeps. If I didn't know him then I wouldn't have been able to imagine what he's been through. Living with a horrible mother, nearly dying in the Hunger Games, putting up with me. And he wants to marry me, live with me. It's the least I could do. And maybe, just maybe, I want to marry him.