The Hunger Games - I'm Still Burning

Chapter 13

I'm not alone.

It's there, reminding me where I am and why I am here. Pulling me out of the past and back into the present. The kicking in my stomach that has terrified me all this time, finally feels welcoming. It can't have been more than two hours ago since I last felt it and that already feels like far too long.

I lost my head. Again. It all comes rushing back as I pry open my swollen eyes. I'm laying down on my child's bedroom floor, covered in a sheen of sweat. I try to swallow and find that my throat is dry and sore. Either from screaming or from the effort of holding back a scream. I hope for Lily's sake that it's the latter.

There's the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I run my tongue along the inside of my cheeks until I find the gnarled, torn skin that I must have bitten into during the flashback. I haven't had one like that in a while, I thought they had gone away. A sad, sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as the realisation that they will never go away hits.

As if reading my thoughts, my baby begins to kick more forcefully. Despite everything, I smile. I might not have had Peeta with me, but I definitely wasn't on my own. He's not the only one who can save me now. This baby might be the life saver that we both need.

I sit up slowly, cradling my belly in my hands. An old lullaby that my father used to sing comes to mind and I start to hum it softly in an attempt to ease the kicking. It might be silly, if the seventeen-year old me had walked in on myself doing this today, she probably would have laughed. I don't even know if the baby can hear me but it makes me feel better all the same.

"Katniss?"

I stop and turn at the sound of his voice. Peeta's stood in the half-open doorway, blocking my view into the hall. I wonder if he's been there watching me for a while, I didn't hear him come in. I have been a little preoccupied though. Just the sight of him fills me with a sense of relief. Perhaps I didn't need him this time round but that doesn't stop me from holding my arms out to him like a child now.

He doesn't hesitate to rush to my side. I've barely blinked and I've already been swallowed up in one of his hugs. Every circular motion he makes on my back seems to erase the seconds one by one, making the flashback appear as nothing more than a distant memory. He doesn't speak, he doesn't need to. He knows that just being here is enough.

Uncomfortably squashed between us, the baby starts to kick harshly against him, generating a groan out of me.

"Whoa," he says, pulling back and staring down at my belly.

"You should try feeling it from the inside," I laugh.

He smiles and runs his hands along it, provoking another set of painful jerking movements.

"Peeta don't encourage it," I say, holding his hand still.

He gazes down at it with an expression that only someone looking down at a puppy would have.

"That's a person!" he says, oblivious to anything but himself and the baby.

"Yeah, that's a person," I laugh again. Then I lean forward and kiss him because it's hard not to when he looks this happy and carefree. It's hard to believe that I ever denied him of this at all.

"Did you forget about me for a minute there?" I ask him, as I pull back.

"I was just stroking your belly and you feel forgotten?" he asks.

"Were you stroking it for my benefit though or for the baby's?" I respond.

He's about to reply, about to argue my point, but then he realises I'm right. His mouth is left hanging open, speechless.