safe & sound: an everlark story

four

peeta hits the razor against the edge of the bathtub in an attempt to break it. eventually, the build breaks and a razor blade falls to the tile floor. peeta picks it up and stares at it for a minute.

he had woken up about 15 minutes ago from the what he would now say is the 500th nightmare since the war ended. his body awoke in terror this time around, but his mind is a spin of numbing agony.

peeta inhaled shakily and pulled up his sleeve. i cant do this anymore. he sliced his arm once and once the blood started to flow, he had decided he hated himself enough to cut himself a few times more. once his arm was bleeding and hurting too much, he wrapped his arm and pulled back down his sleeve. it was already 5:30am and peeta figured he couldn't sleep now, so he instead figured he should just go sit on the couch until it was bright.

this type of routine continued for the next few days until there was no room for cuts anymore. it was winter, so he could get away with wearing sweaters constantly. peeta hid the razor below the sink after each encounter he had with it.

"you've been up so early lately." i laugh, coming downstairs and sitting with him on the couch.

"i cant sleep knowing snow might fall soon." he lied, "i love the snow."

"you do?" i say. he nods. "i didn't know."

he kisses my hair to change the conversation. "you sleep okay?" he asks.

"better if i woke up to you." i smile at him.

"you will tomorrow." peeta says, getting up to get a glass of water.

something was so off. he seemed shaken and just had some other odd behaviors. nothing overly concerning. i brushed this off by telling myself maybe he had a nightmare.

"there's an arts market in town today." i say, "do you want to go?"

he really doesn't wanna go but he doesn't want to hurt the feelings of someone he loves.

"it's pretty cold today." he says, "you sure you wanna go?"

i don't understand why he's questioning something i told him i wanted to do. he also won't look at me. i'm afraid he's mad.

"did i do something?" i whisper.

"what?" he asks.

"peeta are you mad at me?" i ask him.

"no. no." he says, coming close and hugging me. "i'm sorry i made you feel that way."

we layer up and get ready to walk down to the arts market. it's cold out, but my coat makes it bearable.

as we walk, i reach to grab peetas hand. he immediately pulls away and then his eyes shoot down to his hand.

"sorry." he says, reaching back and holding my hand.

"what is going on?" i stop.

"i'm sorry." he says, nothing more.

i let it once again slip through my mind. we arrive at the arts market and look around and explore for a little while before i can't take the cold anymore and we go home.

"why are you so quiet?" i ask him. he's not even holding my hand anymore.

"i don't know." he says.