I Love Her, Real or Not Real? - A Hunger Games FanFiction

Chapter One; Peetas POV

                                                          Chapter One; Peetas POV

"You're not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?"

Those words haunt me. Because she is pretty, she's beautiful. Even now as she speeds out her front door, her hair tangled, riddled with tugs and crusty sleep in the corner of her gorgous eyes. She looks at me, and I resist the temptation to stare into those eyes, and instead, look at the gray soil. The soil isn't the same gray as her eyes, her eyes are more of a silver really. But then I see her eyes stray downwards, towards the fresh primroses I have almost finished planting at the side of her house.

" I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her. I thought we could plant them along the side of the house." I say.

I begin to dig another hole in the soil and ponder why she looks so horrified by my idea. She's staring at them, staring for an entire minute it must be, before she nods and then takes of like a bird. Like the Mockingjay she is. But Katniss doesn't know of the conversations I had with Prim in 13 while she was away at war in District 2. The docters thought she might set me off, but she made me better. She was so calm. She's the reason I was allowed to leave my cell. She told me about the day of the reaping. How Katniss had given her the Mockingjay pin, and she'd given it back. She believed it would protect her. She told me that my father used to bring her and her mother fresh bread while we were in the Games. It was her idea to let me make Annie and Finnicks wedding cake. Prim told me she was certain I had loved Katniss the entire time. But is that true? I love her now ", real or not real?" I ask the primroses. They do not answers, they cannot answer.

I don't feel any better once i've planted the primroses. If anything I feel worse, because now my therepy is gone, and I have to face the bakery. I don't know how to. I rememer bts and pieces of them, my family - my father, my brothers, my dear, dear mother, - but I don't miss them nearly as much as I should.