* Rooftops and Bookbacks *

Cato holds Peeta on top of the cornucopia. "One more kill, I'll make my district proud one more time" he spits at me right before snapping his neck. I watch as his lifeless body falls to the ground. But the ground morphs and we're standing in the quarter quell arena. Suddenly there's a flash of light and I see him lying on the floor like how he did after running into the force field. Only this time there's no Finnick to save him. Prim's screams grow louder from the distance. "Katniss, save me! Katniss, dont let me die!"

I wake screaming in a cold sweat. I often have nightmares like this. Watching people I love die or reliving murder. It doesn't get any easier. It's nights like these that I truly feel the emptiness of the house. It's as if my screams echo through these empty halls. My bed feels big and cold without someone with me. I've grown so use to having another person after years of sharing with Prim followed by Peeta on the train. But this bed has only seen me and the stupid mangy cat.

On nights when I can't sleep, I sneak onto the roof. I pull my legs into my chest and rock slowly as I catch my breath. The sun is just beginning to rise. Soft leaks of light blend into the dark night, growing with every second. The beautiful orange glow captures my gaze. I see why it's his favorite color, It truly is beautiful in the right place. Birds begin to chirp as the first signs of life awaken.

Maybe it's just baker's hours or maybe it's the nightmares but I watch as Peeta leaves his house with a bag of what looks like baking supplies. He doesn't look disheveled or tired like I'm sure I do, but dressed and ready for the day. His gold locks fall over his forehead. His hair is getting long, maybe I should offer to help him cut It? He makes his way to my house, clearly not noticing me so I call out to him. He stops on the grass in front of where I sit and looks up at me.

"What are you doing up there?" He asks

"I couldn't sleep," I say with a shrug.

He nods,"yeah, I understand. Me too." I pat the spot next to me and he starts to walk out of my view. After a few minutes I hear the door to my room open. Very carefully he climbs out the window and takes a seat next to me.

"Good morning, how's the view from up here?" He asks.

"See for yourself," I point to the horizon and the sky that now has an orange, pink, yellow, and blue blend.

"Sunrise, so beautiful. There's very few things that compare." He speaks softly. His morning voice is deeper than when he's fully awake, It causes butterflies to float in my stomach. "Is this what you always do when you can't sleep?"

"Mmm...sometimes, you see I don't have anything to keep the nightmares away, so when I wake up I need something to take my mind off of it. When I finally calm down from it, I walk onto the roof. The view is calming, especially since I can see the forest from here. All the green trees and birds...It's actually nice," I say.

"Yeah, I understand what you mean. After I wake up from my nightmares or a flashback I usually have to do something to keep myself busy," he says.

"How often do you have flashbacks?" I ask curiously.

"Depends on the day. They're getting better, some hit harder than others... on a good day none, on a bad day 4-5," he says It so nonchalantly, as if this isn't something that has completely impacted his life. "Painting helps a lot. Helps me figure out my place in my mind, bring me back to me. And baking is just second nature at this point."

He's silent for a moment before he states, "I have these memories from the victory tour, I heard your screams from your nightmares and I run to you. You ask me to stay with with you because I helped keep the nightmares away- is that real?"

"Yeah, on the victory tour you would hear me scream, I remember you saying you had the same nightmares. We kept each other's at bay."

"I remember that. I remember holding you and feeling..." he trails off before asking another question, "did you love me during the quell? I remember that kiss and It just felt so real, so different from the other forced ones."

His directness takes me aback. Did I love him? I think so. After knowing life without him and not wanting It- there's part of me that thinks I did. After feeling so scared for him, him being the first thing on my mind that day when I woke up in the hovercraft. Not wanting to part front him at the tree not out of safety but because I was worried I was never going to see him again. And in a way I didn't. He came back to me but I only get glimpses of my Peeta, the sweet baker who saved my life all those years ago. He's in there.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked-"Peeta says, dismissing the question.

"No, no it's okay... honestly I think I did but didn't know It at the time."

He nods instead of pressing forward for more answers.

For the past few days we have been hanging out more. I help him with his questions and he keeps me company. My stomach growling signals that it's time for breakfast. I hop up to my feet and offer out a hand to Peeta. He takes my hand and we climb back through the window leaving the conversation behind us. When we get into the kitchen, I start to make something but he stops me and says he'll make breakfast, holding up the baking supplies he had brought over with him.

When we sit down and eat, Peeta notices something on the table. He picks it up and opens it.

"It's the book,"he says looking at the pictures he drew when I hurt my ankle. "Oh my god I forgot this even existed!" His excitement lights up his face as he flips through It.

"Yeah, you remember that?"

"Yeah, this memory isn't shiny. It really happened."

"Yeah, I hurt my ankle because the-" I start.

"The fence turned back on and you had to get back over It. I helped you get everywhere by carrying you, but we spent most of our time on this book," he finishes.

"Yeah," I say with a smile, relieved that he remembers this time. As shitty as the situation was we made the best of It. It's a fond memory I have of him.

"Hey, I have an idea. We should do what we did with the plants but for the people we've lost, so we don't forget everything with time." He opens up to a blank page and holds the book up.

Faces flash behind my eyes of all the people we've lost; Prim, Finnick, Cinna. It brings tears to my eyes and I'm speechless. It's a beautiful sentiment. I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He hesitates at first but then wraps his arms around my waist pulling me closer to him. "That's a beautiful idea," I finally muster out into his neck.

When we pull away he reaches out to wipe a tear from my face. As his hand leaves my face It moves down to touch my braid like he's done many times in the past. Even after everything he's been through, he is still very caring. He is still my boy with the bread.

Peeta bakes us muffins, his hands move so gently as he works the ingredients into the bowl from memory. I watch is awe as he hold the bowl the way only a true baker knows and whisks It together. I don't know how he manages to make nearly perfectly identical copies- it's unreal.

After we eat he runs to his house to get his art stuff. I feverishly rummage through the closet looking for a box. How did I end up with so much in this tiny broom closet? Finally my eye catches the corner of a dark brown box with torn edges. I pull It into my lap as I sit crisscrossed on the floor. The top falls to the floor with a soft thud and my finger caress the fragile contents inside.

"What's that?"

"They're pictures, I only have a few but I figured we could use these for the ones we have pictures of and paint for the ones we don't," I explain holding up the top photo.

"That's a perfect idea, Katniss," he says sitting down next me, he's still a little awkward with his leg and clumsily drops down with a thud.

"Can I look at them?"He asks.

"Of course ,"I say passing him the first photo. He looks at It with confusion.

"Who's this?"

"That's my dad, he died when I was eleven in a mine explosion."

"That's when I threw you the bread, real or not real?"

"Real. I almost died, but that saved us, Peeta. That's what we do, we save each other. We protect each other."

"I would love to hear more stories of him, sounds like he was a wonderful man."

"He was." I stare at the picture of my father, young and clean shaven. The father I remember had stubble and was a little dirty. Scars and cuts all over his body and a bright smile on his face. A hard working man. A loving father.

We put the picture of my dad in the book, and I write everything I remember about him.

"My father, he could sing so well It rocked the birds to sleep. He was always so patient with me. Even after working all day in the mines he always made time for me. I remember him kissing my mother every day before he left and every night he came home. They would dance and he'd serenade her. He taught me how to hunt, gather, swim, everything really."

Peeta writes my father's name beautifully across the page with his photo.

He hands me the next picture to add. It's the picture of Finnick and Annie's son, Finn. I hope to meet him one day. I miss sweet Annie. She's back in 4 as well as my mother. I'm still banned to 12 but as soon as I'm not I plan on going to 4 to meet him.

I pass the book to Peeta to draw Finnick. I recall my conversation with Finnick during the bombing in 13. He helped me realize that I did love Peeta. When his heart stopped and I saw the way you looked at him. He was right. When I thought his heart stopped; when I thought the capitol was going to kill him; when I saw him skinny and beaten for the first time; all of these moments I felt nothing but panic over the thought of losing him. Haymitch was right.

I could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve that boy.

His picture of Finnick is exactly how I remember him. Handsome smile, a little cocky, but genuine on the inside. I can still hear his screams as he calls my name. My heart drops the same way he did off that ladder. I can feel the heat wave as the exploding halo takes him.

"Finnick should have lived, he deserved to be here with his son and wife," I say, "I wish I would have gone back down and dragged him with us before the mutt bit his head."

"It's not your fault, Katniss,"Peeta says rubbing his hand down my arm. I think of all the amazing things Finnick was, and write them down. I start to cry silently as I write. We get through many people, but I never get to Prim. It's still too hard. Although she has a page next to my dad waiting for her. Peeta saved pages for his family because he has pictures he'd like to add another day. He writes beautiful stories of each member- even his mother.

"I should get home...I'll come back tomorrow morning, okay?" He yawns after a long day of working on this project. By now we're leaning against each other on the floor surrounded by art supplies and pictures. Peeta gathers his things but doesn't take them with him, in fact he piles It neatly with the book and sets It on a desk in the corner of the room.

Before he leaves, Peeta pulls me in for a hug. I can feel my heart beating feverishly as I struggle to keep a breath. He ever so lightly presses his lips to my hair, but I feel it. Then all too soon, he's out the door.

This reminds me that everything can be normal again and we can have a relationship.