ghosts that we knew: A mockingjay fanfiction

17

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 17

Peeta

A/N: Hey again! Here's some Peeta for you all! Sorry it took a little longer to get to you, I was experiencing some major writer's block with this chapter and although I'm still not totally satisfied with the product, I figured I'd let you all be the judges instead.

Just another warning/disclaimer: there is mild, implied sexual content ahead. None of it is explicit or M rated, but as I explained last chapter, I would rather you be aware of the chapter's content ahead of time so as to avoid any discrepancy. In addition, we do jump back to the Capitol, and there is some abuse at the end of the chapter. Again, all of this is meant purely to advance the plot line of the story, not to horrify or offend anyone by any means!

Thank you to all who reviewed last chapter! As always, I love hearing all you have to say and I encourage all of you readers to feel free to let me know what you think, what you hope to see, etc! I love it all! I probably sound so redundant, but the more reviews I get the more motivated I am to crank out these chapters and get them to you faster...I mean it! I'll do my best to get the next chapters to you quickly! Thanks all!

-ILoVeWicked

How I managed to find her here, in the basement our non-existent neighbors' home, I am unsure. I suppose I followed the sound of her heart breaking.

The only other time I have seen Katniss Everdeen cry like this was on the train during our Victory Tour. The thrashing, screaming...it was nothing compared to the tears. Each salty drop contained a world of agony that she never should have had to bear. As I climbed into bed with her, upon her request, I resisted the urge to wipe those tears away and opted to let them gather on my shirt sleeve. Her nightmares of the Games were demons that my unwavering presence and my open arms were able to chase away each night we slept together on that train. They were the very same demons I had been facing alone up until that point as well.

This time, however, the terrors running through each of our minds are phantoms of our own accord, for their carry the weight and uncertainty of our future. There's no telling if I will be able to chase her fears of impending doom away now.

She does not acknowledge me as I carefully creak down the stairs of the deserted house's ground floor. She simply remains folded into herself, hugging her knees close and keeping her head down as her body wracks with sobs. In the barren expanse of the basement, she looks smaller, weaker than ever before.

The moonlight diffracting off of the small window of the basement creates a natural spotlight for her. The selfish thought of how beautiful she looks, even in this state, runs through my mind.

We stay like this, her balled-up form rocking back and forth in the center of the room and me standing on the stairs with my mouth agape, for what feels like an eternity until I can no longer undergo idly standing by and watching her suffer any longer.

I clear my throat. "Katniss," I greet her softly, tentative as not to startle her too much. As if breaking from a trance, Katniss' head shoots up from the burrow of her folded arms.

"Peeta? How did you find...?" she trails off, her features etched with confusion as she tries to piece together why I am standing before her.

"I don't know why I'm here," I admit honestly, answering for us both. "I just...I had a feeling when I was passing by this house that I needed to come inside. Then, I heard you crying, and..."

Now, I am a loss for words as I try to read her body language in order to figure out what she wants from me, but it's to no avail. Her countenance is twisted in such an indistinguishable expression as she studies me in silence that it leads me to shift uncomfortably.