The Hunger games - I'm still breathing (Everlark)

Chapter 13

The sound of laughter and the clattering of dishes is what wakes me the next day. The multiple sneezes are what remind me of the cold I was infected with last night.
I get up from the couch and make my way into the kitchen, keeping a blanket wrapped around my chilled body. Haymitch and Peeta stand with their backs towards me laughing and joking with each other. They could be father and son if you didn't know them. The same mess of blonde hair and the same sturdy build. They both have blue eyes, although Haymitch's are darker. Peeta is kneading some dough while Haymitch is squeezing the juice from an orange, occasionally taking sips from his bottle. I feel a million miles away, just watching them from the doorway.
They only notice me stood there when another round of sneezing hits. Peeta turns and smiles at me sympathetically and hands me a box of tissues from the counter. I take one out gratefully and try to blow my nose as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb their conversation from before.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks, pouring the orange juice into a jug.
"Cold," I groan, moving closer into the room and leaning up against a wall.
"Oh, here," Peeta says, taking his dressing gown off, coming over and wrapping it around my shoulders.
"Thanks," I smile up at him, remembering the kiss from last night.
"You gave us quite a scare yesterday," Haymitch continues, "don't you pull any stunts like that again."
"Sorry, Haymitch," I say, guilty for making them so worried. "Can I help with anything?" I ask.
"And spread your disease to us? No, you sit down at the table and keep your germs to yourself," Haymitch chuckles.
I do as I'm told and sit down, continuing to watch the two at work. They chatter away so easily with each other, Haymitch always liked Peeta best. Peeta should have been saved in the arena, not me. He's more likeable, he would have done a better job with the rebellion. He probably would have saved more lives. Prim would still be here if he had.
I close my eyes, trying to barricade the voices threatening to creep into my head. Go away, I tell them. But they only get louder.
Your sister is dead because of you.

You weren't there for her.

You didn't save her.
I feel a hand on my back, rubbing it in small circles like only he does. When I open my eyes, his are there to meet them. My hands are gripping on to the arms of the chair, the paleness in them making the old scars stand out vividly.
"It's okay, Katniss. There are no voices, just mine. Just focus on my voice okay?" Peeta says soothingly.
I nod, letting the calmness in his voice wash over me, drowning out the deranged voices in my head. They quickly begin to fade and my pulsing heart slows to it's regular beat.
"Sorry," I whisper, feeling ashamed that I can't control them by myself.
"You don't have to be sorry for anything, Katniss," he says, pulling me in for a hug. He smells like cinnamon and chocolate. My belly begins to rumble, causing us to break apart.
When we do I notice Haymitch is still in the room, just watching us. His face is filled with longing and sadness. I think about the girl he once had, who was killed by the Capitol because of his actions in the games. Maybe he hugged and comforted her like Peeta just did for me now. When he sees me looking, his expression becomes blank and his face closes off.
"What do you fancy for breakfast, cinnamon swirls or chocolate croissants? I wasn't sure which one you liked best so I made them both," Peeta asks, making me switch my gaze from Haymitch to him.
"I don't mind, surprise me," I reply.
"I'll go get the plates," Haymitch says quietly, taking a swig from his bottle and placing it back on the side, before staggering out of the room.
I stare at the bottle sitting on the side. How can one damn little bottle have caused so much trouble in the last 24 hours? It's not just one little bottle for Haymitch though, I think, it's many little bottles that are stopping him from moving on with his life. I'm suddenly angry with this bottle. I stomp over to it and tip the poison inside down the sink.
I turn and see Peeta looking at me, his expression almost amused at what I'd just done.
"I thought you were going to drink it for a second there," he says, coming over to me and taking the bottle from my hands. I shake my head,
"I wouldn't dare," I say, returning to my seat at the table.
Peeta fills the bottle with water and puts it in the middle of the table. He then disappears out the back door, reappearing shortly after with a hand full of Dandelions. He places them into the bottle.
"Someone told me you'll wet the bed if you pick those," I say, grinning at him.
"What a wise person they must have been," he replies, sticking his tongue out at me.
Haymitch walks back into the room, whistling loudly to himself, the plates jingling against each other in his hands. He puts them on the table and starts over to where his drink once was. When he sees his bottle isn't there, he stops in his tracks and scratches his head.
I feel a giggle building up inside of me and fight to keep it down.
Haymitch turns and scans the room, his eyes eventually falling on his bottle in the middle of the table.
The giggles are crawling up my throat and when I look up and see Peeta's face trying also to hold back from laughing, they come out in a snort. This sets Peeta off and soon we are laughing uncontrollably together.
Haymitch sighs and takes his seat at the table.
"It's a good job I like you both and that I have plenty more at home or you'd bother be very sorry," he says, trying to stop himself from smiling at us.
Peeta just smiles at him and winks at me as he hands out a cinnamon swirl to each of us. Laughing with Peeta feels good, it's the first time I've laughed in a long time. I know that if Prim were here she'd be laughing too.
I decide then and there that I'm going to laugh for Prim. That I'm going to make every single day count for her. Even if it's a struggle getting through the nightmares, even if it kills me not having her here, I'm going to pull through for her. Wherever she is, I'm going to make her proud.

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Authors note: Sorry it's a bit wishy washy and all over the place, I'm having a bit of a brain block at the minute :s