Broken Wings

Chapter 29

Once again, my life takes on a controllable routine, only this time I work at Sae's three days a week. Greasy Sae proved to be closer than family over the year, with her care for me though my hunger strikes and depression down spirals. Sae is the closest I've had to a mother for a while, so helping out at her kitchen is nothing short of a pleasure. Many of the regulars come in and say hi to me and twelve builds its community once again. As the days start getting colder, many more people are drawn to Sae's shop for the warmth of her soup and the closeness of the community created by Sea's caring and stern nature. The nothingness teasing has rejoined the culture of twelve, though the newcomers tend to take some getting used to need to get used to it. Many people tease me about my broken arm that has long since healed, saying that bullet can't kill me but a slip up in the woods is too much for me. Everyone thinks that my broken arm was caused by a hunting trip gone wrong, which is good because, as much as I like the people of twelve, I still like to have a little privacy. If people are happy with that explanation, then there is no reason for more information to be given, saving both Peeta and I some heart ache.

Johanna and I still talk every Tuesday, where she tells me the ins and outs of her life, and I do likewise. Her latest mission is to have the forest around her rehabilitated, since a large portion of it was destroyed during the war. A good thing about her fame is that her cause gets a lot of recognition making 'petty little Capital brats' as she calls them, donate some extra funds and a huge amount of support. When I told Peeta what she called them he shook his head smiling, saying that she would never change. She often asks about him, saying that I'm not the only one who is allowed to know how he is doing. I answer that he has a phone as well to which her eyeroll is audible.

Everyday isn't the same as most of my previous routines. I might help Sae one day, and in the woods the next, I have kept to drawing and reading for when I don't leave the house that day. I know I'll never be as good as some, but I enjoy it. The are only two things that never change. One of them are my Fridays, where I clean both my house and Haymitch's. When I told Dr. Aurelias the affect cleaning had on me he told me it was good. He said, "Everyone has something different to help them cope. Some exercise, some paint..." he started chuckling there "and some people clean, apparently. My job is to help you not stray away so far that cleaning doesn't do the trick anymore. That's when drugs, alcohol and chronic depression set in." so, every time Haymitch calls me a master maid I try take it as a sign of improvement, though if that works depends on my mood.

The other thing that never changes are my evenings. Every night Peeta and I will be in the kitchen while one of us cooks, or sometimes we even cook together. When it first started every move of friendship, he or I made would make me second guess whether it was crossing the friendship line. Haymitch got sick of my scrubbing after one of these moments and confiscated my brush. "you can have it back when you tell me why you are scrubbing so loud on a perfectly clean floor." He had said, while blocking my exit whenever I tried to leave. With a huff I had told him.

"Peeta asked me if I was okay and... I don't know, I just don't want to fall back into the pull he has on me. if I fall to far or get to close, I'll just end up hurting him, hurting myself as well."

Haymitch didn't do anything but laugh for a while, when he finally calmed down, he said even he hadn't seen me over think something that much. With that I snatched the brush out his hand and left. His word stuck in my head though, and from then on, I tried to ignore any thing Peeta, or I did. When a week had gone by and I had not broken or hurt anyone, ignoring it became incredibly easy. Since I let my outer walls down both Peeta and I have settled well into a rhythm, a rhythm we can both dance to at this point. There are a few moments where I catch him looking at me and I wonder if I'm giving him the wrong idea, but he usually pulls himself out of it. When he doesn't, I always blush and remove myself from the situation by pretending not to notice and if that doesn't work, I leave the room.