How Will This Work Out? (a HG fanfic)

Chapter 2

That night, Prim slept like a log. I slept-- as usual-- with Peeta.

I woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. Screaming bloody murder, Peeta was awakened by my cry. "Katniss, what's wrong?" he said, cupping my face in his hands.

"Just-- just a nightmare." I replied.

"What was the nightmare about?"

I let him wipe my tears with his warm hand. Replying, I said, "I dreamt that we never met. When we did, I didn't remember you, but you knew me. Then Prim got shot by Snow, and----- and............" I started crying again.

Peeta enclosed me in his arms. "It's okay. You can cry, Katniss. Just cry."

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Breakfast was raspberry tarts, fresh from the bakery. I slumped in my seat. Gale stared at me pondering (trying to read my mind?). Mom stood over the oven, stirring the lemonade that went extremely well with tarts. (yum!)

"Katniss," Peeta began, inching closer to me. I looked up at him.

"Yeah?"

"I was just gonna ask you---- um-------- never mind." He leaned back in his seat, hands folded over his lap. Gale stared at us evilly.

"Gale, could you see if Prim's awake?" Mom asked, not taking her eyes off of the dough. Gale got up, put his plate in the sink, and jogged up to Prim's room.

When I was finished, Peeta kindly took my plate to the sink. Bewildered, I said, "Thanks."

"No problem, Katniss. I'm just in a great mood for some reason." Peeta replied, shrugging his shoulders at me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Later that afternoon, I sat in the garden, brushing my fingers gently over the lavender-beds. Prim had followed me out, sitting next to me sadly.

"Katniss? Do you REALLY love Peeta??" she asked out-of-the-blue.

I was bewildered by the question. "What do you mean, Prim? Of course I love Peeta. What kind of question is that?" I snapped.

I knew I was being a bitch to Prim. She blurted, "I saw Peeta with another girl in the market."

My eyes widened. "What??????!!!!!?!"

"They met at the bakery and they kissed. I should've told you that day, Katniss. I'm sorry."

"No, Prim. It's not you who has to be sorry." I snapped, getting up & storming inside the house.