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

Chapter 35

It's noon by the time I drag myself out of sleep. When I open my eyes I see Peeta sitting in the corner of the room. He has his easel set up in front of him, lost in his own artistic world. I watch the effortless stroke of his brush sliding across the page. The sun filters down on him through the window, making his hair look golden. His eyes flicker up to me for a moment and jump when they see I'm awake.

"Morning," he says, putting his paintbrush to one side. He smiles guiltily at me.

"Have you been painting me?" I ask him, rolling over onto my belly and resting my head in the crook of my elbow.

"Maybe," he says sheepishly.

"Can I see?" I ask, forcing my body into a sitting position.

"Yeah, just wait a minute," he says, quickly picking up his brush and adding an extra bit of detail into the picture. Once he's checked it over a couple of times, he gestures for me to come and look at it.

I grab the blanket from the edge of the bed and wrap it around my chilled shoulders before making my way towards Peeta. I hover beside him for a second, then decide to sit on his knee. His arms wrap around my waist as I lean back and rest my head on his.

I stare at his painting. The girl asleep in the bed doesn't look like me. She looks serene, as though no darkness has ever crossed her path. There's no sign of the girl who walked aimlessly along the cliff edge last night.

"That's not me," I say.

"It is you, that is the same person that I wake up to every morning," he says. Then he leans forward and grabs a piece of charcoal. He begins to draw another person in the bed next to me. As it takes shape I begin to see that it's not a person, it's an animal. It has two arms and two legs and an ugly, squashed-in face. It's a monkey.

"And this is what you wake up to every morning," Peeta laughs, throwing his charcoal back on to the table.

"That's a pretty spot-on drawing, you know," I laugh, kissing him on the side of his head.

"Well you're not supposed to agree," he says, jabbing me in the sides where he knows I am the most ticklish. I yelp and slap his hand away. He smiles sweetly up at me.

"I think there's something missing actually," I say. I lean forward and grab the charcoal and begin to add my own features on to the monkey. When I am done, it has a loaf of bread in one hand and a paintbrush in the other.

"Now it looks more like you," I giggle.

"I think that's the nicest complement Katniss Everdeen has ever given to me," Peeta chuckles.

"I don't know, I think telling you that I love you is a pretty big complement, don't you?" I say, raising my eye brows at him.

"Not necessarily, you have to tell me the reasons why you love me," he says with a smirk on his face.

"Okay, I'll tell you why I love you. Are you sure you want to hear this?" I ask seriously.

"Yes, I'm sure," he says.

"Well..." I stand up and turn around to face him, letting the blanket drop to the floor, "I only love you for your cheese buns."

"Is that so?" Peeta laughs.

"Yep," I say, grinning down at him.

"Well if that's the case.." he gets up from the chair and starts towards the door, "I had better just go."

"No!" I say, running towards the door and blocking his way out. "You can't leave me."

He smiles at me smugly and rests his hands on my hips. He leans his head down and I close my eyes and wait for his lips to reach mine.

"See, I knew you loved me for more than just my cheese buns," he says, his mouth just a breath away from mine.

I roll my eyes and close the gap between us. My hands find their way up into his hair, his run along my spine causing me to shiver. He pulls me away from the door and back towards the bed, not once breaking the kiss. We fall on to the sheets and get lost in each other.

It's after, when I'm laying with my head on Peeta's chest listening to his heart beat, that I realise how content he makes me feel. Last night feels like a whole lifetime ago. When I think about it now, it's like I am remembering a scene from one of the Capitol's movies. Just an actress pretending to be losing her mind. It's like it wasn't me, like I never did that. The only way I'd even consider jumping off a cliff now would be if Peeta jumped first.

"Are you feeling okay today?" Peeta asks, as his hand draws small comforting circles along my arm.

"Yes, I feel like a different person today," I reply.

"That's good," he says.

We lay in a comfortable silence for a few moments longer.

"Because you make me feel alive," I finally murmur quietly.

"What?" Peeta asks, leaning up on his elbow so that my head slides down and rests on his forearm. His unfairly long eye lashes blink down at me slowly.

"I love you because you make me feel alive," I say. "You remind me of who I am when I forget and you find me when I get lost. Every single time you bring me back and I love you for it."

Peeta stares down at me with a look that I can only describe as adoration. He doesn't need the words to tell me how he feels, every blink, every smile, tells me again and again. When he leans down and kisses my nose, he puts his heart in my hands.

"The train will be here soon to take us home."

Home. District 12. To my waiting mother. The woods, the lake, the bakery. Home. His words could not have been sweeter. Time to climb out of the black hole I've been living in for the past week and face reality head on once again. Time to mend the broken relationship with my mother and set things right. Time to go home.