The Hunger Games: Continued

Hold Me

Katniss' POV

2 months later

My muffled cries evolve into piercing screams as I jolt awake from the nightmare that consumed me. Oh, how I need his arms now. I wipe my tearstained cheeks and bury my face in the pillow, trying to shut it all out.

Buttercup leaps onto the bed, nudging at my arm. I swat him away, but he persists, purring and pawing. I snap up. "What is it, you stupid cat?" I try to sound angry, but it's hard. He lost Prim too. Somehow, the mangy, flea-bitten cat and I have formed a fragile truce.

Buttercup stares at me, then springs off the bed and darts downstairs. A moment later, I hear footsteps. Not a cat's. Human. Maybe Buttercup was warning me.

I grab the knife I keep by my bed. Once I thought it absurd that Haymitch slept with a blade. Now I understand.

I creep down the stairs, step by step, Buttercup's bell jingling somewhere below. I hear a voice—too soft to place. Knife raised, I ease the living room door open.

"Whoa! Careful there!"

Peeta. His hands fly up, brows raised at the sight of the blade.

"Oh my god, Peeta!" I lower the knife, breath rushing out. Relief floods me. "You scared me! It's two in the morning!" But I laugh, because I'm so glad it's him.

"I know. I'm sorry," he says gently. "I heard you screaming. I came to see if you were okay."

I sigh, watching Buttercup weave himself around Peeta's legs.

"Well, I'm okay. Thanks for checking." The chance is there — I could ask him to stay. But the words stick in my throat. I count the seconds stretching between us.

In the dark, even the night can't dim the blue of his eyes. He scuffs his foot. "Well, I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Okay," I mutter. And he leaves.

⸻

Peeta's POV

I wish she had asked me to stay. I could almost hear the words trembling on her tongue, but she didn't say them.

I want so much to protect her from the nightmares that haunt her. And I need her to shield me from mine. It makes sense—for us to be together at night, to guard each other from the dark. But even the simplest kind of sleeping beside someone is intimate. Significant. A step we haven't reached.

And still, I think of that night. The night she whispered by my bed. Every day I want to ask her if it was real. But what if it wasn't? What if she denies it? I can't risk losing even this.

I ready myself for the day ahead. Katniss promised to take me hunting. I argued against it—my heavy steps scare off all the game—but she doesn't want to go alone. And I can't let her.

I eat a few cheese buns, saving some for her, then walk to her house. Nerves twist my stomach for no reason I can explain. I see her all the time. Why am I nervous now?

Before I can knock, she opens the door, laughing. "I saw you through the window. You do realise you didn't knock?"

I blush. "Yeah, um—I wasn't thinking."

She stands there in scruffy jeans, her father's old hunting jacket, her hair in a messy braid. No makeup, just clear grey eyes. She's beautiful. Too beautiful. I swallow my words. If I told her how much I love her, I'd scare her away.

"You ready?" she asks. I nod, and we set off.

⸻

Katniss' POV

We walk into the woods. I haven't told Peeta yet, but I'm taking him to the lake. The one my father used to bring me to. Maybe, in an unspoken way, it will tell him how much I care.

As we walk, his hand brushes mine. I resist, then hesitate. Maybe I don't have to. He broke the barrier already, that day in my study when he slipped his hand into mine.

His hand brushes again. This time, I take it. Fingers weaving cautiously through his. He looks down, then up into my eyes. His smile is shy, but it warms me. His grip tightens.

We walk hand in hand to the fence. I slide under, and—without pause—he follows.

Bow in hand, I spot a squirrel. Aim. Release.

"Wow! Right in the eye!" Peeta exclaims.

"Surprised you didn't scare it off," I tease.

We hunt as we go, gathering squirrels, rabbits, even a turkey. But I'm here less for game than for him.

Deeper into the woods, another squirrel appears. I raise my bow—

"Will you teach me?" Peeta asks.

"To shoot?"

He nods.

I consider. Strong hands, steady grip. "Sure. But it takes skill to get them in the eye."

"By sunset I'll be a pro," he jokes, taking the bow. He aims—straight into a tree.

I laugh. "Here. Try again, but don't release."

I step close, aligning my arm with his, my fingers over his. Pulling the string back further.

⸻

Peeta's POV

Her breath grazes my neck. It sends tingles across my skin, down my spine. I bite my lip, hard, just to stop myself turning toward her.

"Keep your stance straight," she whispers, her voice like a brushstroke against me.

I focus, sighting the squirrel.

"And release..."

The arrow flies true—into the squirrel's chest. Not the eye. But good enough.

Katniss pats my back. "It's survival, Peeta. The circle of life." She moves on. I nod, though guilt prickles at me.

We walk on, hand in hand. When at last we reach her secret place, my breath catches.

The lake spreads wide, cradled by grass and wildflowers. Pink, blue, orange blossoms blaze around the water. Sunlight scatters across the surface. A small stone building hides in the corner.

"Wow," I breathe. "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Except for you, I think.

"My dad taught me to swim here," she says softly. "I thought I'd bring you to watch the sunset."

"Thank you," I whisper.

She sits on a rock, patting the space beside her. I take it, careful not to press too close.

The sun sinks. The sky glows pink and orange. Katniss shivers. Instinct drives me—I want to wrap her in my arms. Instead, I lay my coat over her shoulders.

"But you'll be cold," she protests.

"As long as you're not, I don't care."

She frowns, then drapes the coat back over me. Our eyes lock. Staring. Unbroken. Her gaze dips to my lips. Mine to hers.

For a moment, I swear she'll kiss me.

But instead she whispers, fumbling—"Will you... just... hold me?"

I freeze. Then nod.

I shift closer, wrapping her in my arms. She melts into me, head nestled against my neck. I've held her before. But never like this. Never like something long awaited.