Catching Fire: The New Story

Pictures of Horror

Peeta's POV

Katniss and I stare at the gray wall covered in red ink, the red shining in the electric light. I am as stunned as Katniss is. The pin she wore as a token, beautiful as it sits on the gray wall of the Capital tunnel. It stands out to the naked eye, truly, no one can miss it. I don't know how we did coming over here. I turn to Katniss to see if she is still as stunned as I am, but she is smiling. She laughs.

"What?" I ask confused. What is funny about this?

She laughs again. "It's my pin," she says, quietly, "I can't believe someone actually did this!"

I nod, I can't believe it either. She stares in awe for another moment until she grabs my hands and pulls me back to the train, despite how cold she it. She is full of adrenaline. She is laughing so hard, so out of breath, by the time we make it to the train, I am afraid she might fall. We enter through the open train door, passing by Effie, Haymitch, our stylist, and prep team who call us to stop and talk to them, having heard what happened earlier before with Haymitch and Katniss. The train lurches forward, announcing over the intercom that it is back on track with everyone needed on board and the problem now fixed. We had stopped to listen to the instructor, but as soon as he was done talking, Katniss pulls me along to her compartment. We fall into her room, Katniss laughing practically on the floor holding her stomach. 

I can't help but laugh as I catch my breath. "What's so funny?" I ask worried she's gone as crazy as Haymitch, or Effie. 

"Peeta... you don't.... under... stand..." she says, pausing to breath and laugh between words. Tears trim her eyes, happy tears. She finally calms down and stands straight, taking my hands in her. "My Mockingjay pin being up there, its a good thing to us. Obviously, no to the Capital, but to us yes. It's funny because I was just wondering the other day if someone was on our side, the Victors side. We deserve a chance, a right, a say, a life. Someone might agree on that. And there is our proof that someone, possibly multiple people, does." She is beaming with excitement. She hugs me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I do the same, wanting her as close to me as humanly possibly. Her happiness pushes the bad moment from before away, the one of missing her home and family, just by seeing this one rebellious thing.

"Katniss-" I try to say, but her voice becomes so extremely fast as she interupps me, as if she are a cup of sugar in the last hour. I'm sure not to give her any until she calms down, if she ever does.

"Katniss-" But she stops me again with her swiftly words that catch mine before I can say them. I keep my hands on her shoulders as she babbles on. I finally cover her mouth with my hand, stopping her from speaking or trying to. She stares at me with big, deer eyes. They are filled with bewilderment and confusion.

"Calm down," I say sternly. I feel her smile underneath my hands. She nods vigorously.

"Okay," Katniss says as I release my hand from her mouth. She slips of my jacket and lays it on the bed, coming over to me again as I stand watching her. She reaches up, taking my face in her hands, and kisses my lips roughly. I am taken by surprise, but go along with her large level of stamina. It isn't everyday she is this excited and happy, or this enthusiastic about us. I move my hands to her back, while hers stay on my cheek and soon move down my neck and shoulders and arms. She brings them back up into the hair, raking them through the short blonde locks. Surprisingly, it tickles the way her fingers graze over every part of skin exposed to the air. I finally release her from our romantic, yet vague, kiss. I wonder if it was as romantic for her as it was for me.

 I decide for us to go on a walk. A way to calmly let her energy, even though the laughing and running and kissing were nice, and breath taking, literally, she still has loads of energy to waste. We start walking through the halls of the trains, keeping quiet as we stroll side by side. I fiddle my hand together behind me before Katniss reaches over and grabs my right hand, lacing our fingers together sweetly. I stare at her in surprise at first, but she only looks around, ignoring my questioning stares and awkward smiles. She leans in closer to me, hugging my arm with her other tiny hand. We walk through many bunkers until I get an idea. I stop in my tracks, yanking Katniss back with me.

Katniss looks up at me confused. "Why'd you stop?"

"Care to take a look at my paintings?" I ask, bluntly.

"Sure," she say with a shrug. I smile softly at her and we start walking to the train box holding some of my work I have don over the past half year or so. Katniss's train box with her designs sits behind mine.

I practically have to drag Katniss through the door after I open it to the darkness that sits inside. I search for a light switch while I keep hold of Katniss before she runs away again. The white light makes us squint for a few seconds before adjusting. We see the colors on the canvases trailing the train floor. It is quiet at first, allowing Katniss the time to take a look over the ones her eyes have instant access to. Hopefully, getting an opinion from her instead of heavy silence.

"So... do you like them?" I ask, anxiously. Her face is so vague, so numb with fear. What have I done wrong? She stares at the pictures as she stands in the middle of the room, concentrating and focusing on each one with precision to capture each detail of every painting. Her quietness makes me nervous. Her hand slips from mine, slapping against her thigh. She walks over to the closets painting, running over finger over the dying, bumpy covers of acrylic paint. I have brushed and stroked and smeared my life onto the canvases. Her opinion obviously matters most to me, anyone can say anything about my art, my paintings, my life, but only Katniss's comments will matter to me. She makes me nervous, yet excited and happy and angry all at the same time.

"I... hate them," she whispers after a long while of analyzing everything but me. I am taken back. I am surprised and worried and horrified and nervous and I feel sick.

"What?" I ask hurt.

"I hate them. All you've painted are my-" but she stops herself.

I understand what she wanted to say. I have painted her current and never ending nightmares. All of them my own as well. Our nightmares. She stares down at a painting of herself in the cave, our cave. Blood smears her forehead down to her cheek and neck. The light shining from the moon glows on her olive skinned face, making her seem a few years younger as she sleeps from her injury. The cloth I wrapped around her forehead now tied a red from soaking up the blood from her wound. She lays right beside me in the cave, none of myself in the painting. 

I realize now, she did not love me in those Games, but yet now she somehow does and doesn't. She both used me to win back to her sister and to save me as a deed needed to be paid back over so many years. Her face and actions show love at times, her mind says yes, but her heart does no such thing. We are both equally confused, maybe Katniss more than I, but I know she won't have the words to explain to me if I ask. I am both afraid and accepting of her heart never changing, it is indeed a hard task to ask of your heart. I will love her forever, even if she does not, but I am afraid of her going against her heart rather than agree with it.

I pull her into my arms, even as she protests against me. She wraps her arms around my neck, holding onto me. I feel her shaky breath on my shoulder as she cries soft tears. My skin is damp from them. We stay like this until Effie calls us for dinner. We pull apart, wiping the evidence this ever happened on our sleeves. We walk to the dinning cart, acting as if that never happened.

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staying up is getting harder, thank god, but i want to write and update ughhh life is hard

~Jez xo