Broken Wings

chapter 4

When I was younger, sometimes my mom would come over to my bed when she thought I was sleeping and push the hair out of my face with a touch so light you barely felt it. If I were awake, I would have blown her off, but I secretly craved her gentle touch. So, I would pretend to be asleep so that it wouldn't end, and that is what I find myself doing now. I'm pretending to sleep so I don't have to face Peeta, and I suppose I should just admit that I'm scared if he knew I was awake he would leave.

"Katniss, please come out?" I stay put, his voice isn't angry, but a whole mixture of other things. Some I know well like sadness and confusion, others familiar but I can't place. "Katniss, I know you aren't sleeping." This he says more sternly, and I know I have to move, but I still don't. "Oh, come on." He groans as he pulls back the covers, exposing me in full, from feet to a puffy face fresh from crying. He looks at me straight in the eye, without withering away from me.

His face it was never hash and he would never look at me with contempt, that is until he finally saw me for the real me. I know the capital made me look worse, but the truth is I'm not that far off. Peeta looks at me now without a clouded, hurt look and though with more caution, similar to how he used to. "Katniss, I don't hate you, and I don't think I ever will."

"Just wait. If you start talking to me again you will." I try say confidently with a wave of my hand, but my voice breaks at the end I try covering it up by pulling the blanket back over me, but Peeta catches my hand. "Don't say that, you make me second guess myself."

"Bu..."

"Stop," he cuts off "I just want you to know I'm sorry," he lets go of my hand, so I move grab the blanket again. Without even blinking he grabs my hand and continues. "I haven't been treating you fairly. I was doing better when they let me back here. But after I returned it like my whole world was turned upside down." He drops his gaze to my hand and starts inspecting every aspect of it, from one side to the other. "I don't know what to think anymore, and I'm so scared to ask. I know it's stupid, but I'm scared I'll look like a fool." He say to my hand. "So, I start overthinking everything over and over again until I doubt even the little things. Like if I like strawberries or not." By the time he has said this he has traced every scar on my right hand, leaving a tingling feeling behind.

"You don't hate me?" I ask stupidly.

"No, I'm just... just so confused." He drops my hand and rubs his hands through his hair. He only really does this when he is worried or fatigued. "I can't even walk around my own house anymore." He drops his hands with a sigh of defeat. "I wish I could just remember our past."

Our past. A past that at one point I wanted to forget. A past full of hurt, fear and loss. But I suppose there was some moments of happiness, we did have some chances of peace. In the first games my only place of feeling safe was with his arm around me. The picnic on the roof wasn't bad either I was so beyond caring while I was with him, I was actually happy. Peeta has always made me happier than I would be without him. That's why it was so good when we decided to be friends. I remember that, how he and I started enjoying each other's company. He came along the track and found me when I was fed up with Snow and my prep team. He asked if we could at least be friends because it would make things less awkward on camera. That and we actually liked each other's company, we were just forced together. He took my hand and walked me to the train to apologise to Effie and show me his paintings. His paintings! Peeta painted his life, from his games to his present. Sure, most of them were nightmares but our lives were nightmares. He must still have them, and if he can't walk around his house, he hasn't seen them.

I bolt up and grab his hand, pulling him to the door. This action scares Peeta a little so I stop and try a calmer tactic, but I'm so excited it is quite a challenge. "please follow me. I have an idea." He nods his head apprehensively and lets me lead him by the hand. I intwine my fingers with his and set off to his house. It feels... good, to have Peeta's fingers around mine again. He can't hate it either because I loosen them to open the door when he tightens his grip again. A clap of thunder tells me I'm about to get soaked, but it doesn't faze me, I am on a mission. As soon as we get inside, I can see Peeta is confused but as I start searching his house he starts panicking, yanking me to a stop.

"Katniss what are you doing?! Please, stop!" He tries to be firm but his voices catches and raises in pitch, making him sound like a frightened child. I know this can help him, but I don't want to scare him.

"Peeta, I know I'm asking a lot, but I need you to trust me on this. I know you don't want to have to ask about everything, I know I wouldn't, so I think I know something that can help. I think it's in your house." I start feeling really upset. Not once did I think I would ever have to ask Peeta Mellark to trust me. He always did, but just like everything I ruined it, I ruined him. "But I can stop if you want me to." I hang my head and let go of his hand. "I can... leave if you want me to." I look up to find him looking at me with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"You, you want to help me?" He says with a pleasant disbelief.

"Yes," I say dumbfounded. "I want to help you be happy again. You never deserved to get hurt like you did. So, will you let me?" He nods yes, and I start moving forward again.

I've never been in Peeta's house before. The house is the same as mine, even to the furniture, but mine has belongings from my old home. Peeta's only has a few things to show that this is someone's home, I suppose his family kept his stuff thinking that he didn't need it now that he had money. That witch of a mother didn't even let Peeta work in the bakery once he came home. How much he must miss his stuff now that it is lost forever. I move to the study because that would be the best place to start, I think, once we get there I start to regret this idea what if it's too much for Peeta all at once. What if I scare him off for good? If I was him, would I want to see this? Yes, I think I would, I would be able to think for myself. And Peeta is much stronger than he is given credit for, but ultimately, it's his decision so, I just ask him. "Do you want to do this? It might be too much." He closes his eyes grabs my hands again and takes a deep breath. "Yes."

When I walk in, I see everything. Everything from our first day at school, memories I don't recognise from his childhood and up all the way to before our second games. There is one painting in particular that catches my eye. It's if me, writing something in a book. The bandage on my foot tells me it was the plant book we worked on but it's the detail in the painting of me that is incredible. He has turned me, not particularly pretty me, into something stunning. He seems to have been fascinated by my lips, this would scare me some if I didn't know the feeling. When he and I worked on the book I would love to just watch him, his face, and his eyelashes.

Peeta grabs this painting and another one and sits on the floor, one in each hand. I almost forgot Peeta was here, but any stirred feelings are to be pushed aside because I am here for him now not me. So, I sit next to him and stare at the paintings right alongside him. The other painting is of the bakery, his home. I can see the emotion thick on this face, and I think how hard it must be for him. He just said he didn't even know if he liked strawberries, and j know I have to help him gain back his life. I made the mistake of holding back my grief and it sent me spiralling down. As if just to remind me Buttercup walks in, when he sees me, he kind of freaks out and just watches me closely from the far corner. Buttercup helped me grieve and now I have to help Peeta. "It's okay to cry." I say.

"I know." He says, but it's clear he is still trying to hold back. I lean in to him and whisper.

"You love strawberries." And that breaks him. He drops the paintings and sobs. I don't know what else to do so I hold him, I hold him for a long time as he cries. After a while I'm sure my holding isn't helping, maybe Peeta would rather me not be near him right now. Maybe he feels this is my fault. It is my fault. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't be in this mess he would have come home with Haymitch and lived happily with his family. I don't deserve to be here. What made me think he wanted me here in the first place. I let go, getting up from him but he clutches onto me and starts crying onto my shoulder, soaking me with his tears. It is so heartbreaking to see him like this I start crying again to. "Please don't leave me?" He gasps and I hold him even tighter than before. How could I do this to him? I really am a monster.