Growing Together - An Everlark Fanfic

So I've read a lot of fanfiction about what happened to Everlark after Mockingjay.

This is my take on the feelings and dramas that might have happened.

I hope you like it!

Instagram and Twitter: @hopingwillow

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Information: This is my version of how Katniss and Peeta grow back together after Mockingjay. With depression, nightmares and flashbacks, it isn't always easy. But they love each other, real or not real?

MAY HAVE LEMONS, MAY BE A TRIGGER

•Chapter 1•

I've been in District 12 for three days now. Sitting, crying, sleeping. Staring into space is how I spend most days.

I have no tears left.

Greasy Sae comes and cooks for me twice a day: breakfast and dinner. I don't feel like eating though. I just want everything to go away.

The phone rings and rings and rings but I don't answer it, I never do. It's probably Dr Aurelius wanting to talk about my mental health, or my Mother wanting to cry with me about Prim.

Sweet, lovely Prim.

My little duck. My baby sister who I was meant to protect. But I didn't.

I still remember the day she was born.

I had sat in my bedroom all night, listening to my Mother's agonising screams. Being just 4 years old I had been worried that she wouldn't make it.

But when my Father appeared in my doorway early in the morning, with a bundle of blankets in his arms, I was ecstatic.

I asked to hold her, what her name was, how much she weighed, what colour her eyes were. Father had laughed and placed her in my arms.

"Her name is Prim, my gorgeous girl. Primrose Everdeen," he had said.

At the sound of her name, she had opened her eyes.

Bright blue. Bluer than the sky on a bright summer's day.

"Oh daddy! I love her!" I had exclaimed, squeezing her a little too tight.

"Be careful, Katniss," my Father had warned. "You're her big sister; you have to protect her,"

"I will daddy. Of course I will," I had promised.

But now I've broken that promise.

And I can't take the guilt anymore. I need something to take away the pain of my little sister's death.

I need to hurt myself.

For the first time in three days (apart from going to the toilet) I get up from my wooden chair in the kitchen and go to the bathroom.

There on the shelf is a razor blade.

My stylists put it there for me to use when they're not able to wax me. I've never used it.

I pull up my sleeve and slice the blade through my skin, gritting my teeth, but feeling the satisfaction of the sharp pain.

I watch the blood run around my arm, and drop onto the floor, before slicing into my skin again.

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FYI, I've never cut, so if it's inaccurate I apologise.

Thankyou for reading this! Please comment, vote, spread it or whatever if you want :)