Maybe It Can Be Real

Chapter 38

Ending of last chapter:

I sniff and rest my head against the trunk of the tree, my eyes looking out at the small town of District 12 before me. Sometimes I just wish that I could live in the trees and never have any responsibilities or guilt. Then I remember Peeta - all the sweet things he does, how much joy he brings me.

And that's when I remember that my life is definitely worth living and that I shouldn't wish it away because some people would take my life in a heartbeat despite the things I've suffered.

****

I let my eyes fall shut. I'm exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. All this planning for the wedding has definitely taken a toll on me. Peeta helps, of course, but I'm just trying so hard to make sure the wedding is perfect.

I kinda regret not having Effie plan the wedding, but I also feel like I would be more stressed with her because she'd want so many things we don't. I don't know.

On top of the stress and exhaustion, I now feel guilt as well. I shouldn't have yelled at Peeta like I did earlier. It was such a stupid reason too; it embarrasses me how mad I got over invitations. I know I need to go apologize, but I just honestly do not have the energy to do it. Anything, really.

My thoughts drift off for a bit, becoming distant to my mind. I wouldn't be able to tell you what my last thought I had was - that's how tired I am.

When my thoughts finally return to my consciousness, I realize my head is slumped down. It quickly snaps up, and I rub my eyes quickly to try and wake myself up. The last thing I need is to fall out of the tree. After making sure I was okay, Peeta would probably choke me for being so brainless. I smile lightly, then it quickly fades away when I realize what I thought.

A short time later, I decide it's time to go back to the house. Grudgingly, I climb down from my spot in the tree, slipping slightly on the bark, and head back to the house.

The entire walk home I'm planning how I'm going to apologize. I'm not good with words like Peeta is, so I can't just go on the spur of the moment.

"Peeta?", I call hesitantly into the quiet house. No response. Instantly, my heart rate picks up and I become extremely nervous, completely forgetting my plan to apologize. It feels like a shock of electricity zapped through my body.

My feet carry me quietly into the kitchen, where I figured Peeta would be baking some sort of delicacy. I was right and wrong. Right because Peeta is in the kitchen. Wrong because he's having a flashback, not baking.

His hands are gripping the back of a chair, to the point where the wood is almost splintering under his grip. His muscles are pulled taut, and small beads of sweat are rolling down the side of his face.

My eyes fall shut briefly. He probably doesn't know I'm here, and I don't know what to do. Do I talk him out of it? Do I leave him alone? Usually touching him works, but I don't know. I should have figured this out by now. I've had 7 years.

Carefully, I walk up behind Peeta and rest my quivering hand between his shoulder blades. He tenses up even more, if that's possible. His arms and head are gently shaking from trying to repress the memories.

I don't say anything. I decided against it, fearing that my voice would bring back the exact memories he's trying to forget. So I just rub his back slowly, soothingly.