always (after the revolution)

CHAPTER ONE

𝗞𝗮𝘁𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩

Arriving back at district 12 felt somewhat more haunting than anything i've been through in the last couple if months. i had nothing to live for anymore. No Prim, no Peeta, my mother was in district 4 and she hardly speaks to me and Gale is off working a fancy job in district 2. The only company i have is Haymitch and even on the off chance he's of a sobriety, he hardly has anything nice to say to me anyway.

The last time i saw Peeta was on the day of snow's execution. i had just reached my hand up to grasp the small purple pill from my shoulder before he raced to my side to stop me. i can't comprehend why he wouldn't just let me go. there's nothing left for me anymore, he doesn't love me the same way he did anymore. i saw how different he was after what the capitol did to him. I had just come to terms with the idea of opening my heart to him, and finally allowing myself to love him when he attacked me.

As i stare out of the window of my home in the victor's village, i trace my fingers along my the spot on my neck where his hands once were. That horrifying action let the walls around my heart build up again, only taller, and more robust.

Sleeping alone isn't even worth considering. I've barely slept since i got back a month ago, but tonight seems a morsel more painful. it's nights like these when i wish Peeta was next to me. His arms offering reassurance when the nightmares come. They're agonisingly perpetual. the worst thing is when all of those people that died because of me, or because i couldn't save them, are all stood there. hordes upon hordes of them. so many that i didn't know, so many i could have saved. Glimmer, Rue, Marvel, Clove, Cato, Thresh, Mags, Wiress, Jackson, Boggs, Finnick, Homes, Mitchell, The Leeges, Messala, Castor, Primrose. Their eyes bore into me, and they circle around me, enclosing me in a circle of hell. Eventually, the circle gets too tight and it feels like i'm drowning in, except in my own guilt. the stifling feeling is matched with the appalling but familiar scent of roses and blood.

My entire body jolts as i wake up, panting, with tears dripping down the sides if my face. I don't bother trying to get back go sleep. it's especially draining because i don't even sleep. i remember before the first games, the smell of roses would be something inviting, enjoyable even, but now all i can think about is Snow. And poison. And all of the innocent people's lives that were destroyed because of him.

i sit in bed until the sun comes up. the colours flood into the room like an ocean, signalling my time to get up. My limbs ache with tiredness, but i need to get out of this house. I put on my Father's hunting jacket and retrieve my bow from the cupboard under the stairs. My hair is too matted to do anything with it at the minute, so i just leave it out. nobody's going to see me anyway.

It seems like a nice day, the old Katniss' favourite kind. Cool crisp air hits me as soon as i open the door and i inhale the scent of spring, allowing my body some fresh air. the sun washes over me igniting a subtle warmth inside my body again, but it's not the kind of warmth i need. i need his warmth. i need him.

i walk past Haymitch's house expecting some crude comment from his porch but he's not there. unusual, but i'm far to tired to question it. my walk hastens to a light jog until i get to the fence. dipping under one of the bars, i'm still careful to check for electricity. i guess some things never change

the woods are so quiet but so alive, the trees rustling in the breeze, the small clear stream of water flowing just inches from my feet, the birds chirping from the highest branches of the trees. this feeling of serenity is so rare nowadays, i almost forget to savour it.

i hunt for what feels like hours. it's a lot of waiting for game to walk by, and staying as still as possible. most people would think it was boring, but when your entire family depends on it, you have to make the fun for yourself.

i stay out all day, basking in the first day of spring's sunlight, watching as the sun dips lower and lower into the horizon. However i really take admiration to it when it beams an orange glow upon everything. not just any orange, it's his favourite colour.

i walk briskly towards the victor's village, feeling the mild heat of the sun on my face until i see a figure that stops me in my tracks. my walking quickens towards the figure, and i could feel my heart beating faster and faster.

"peeta?" i scarcely whisper.