Stay • Everlark (REVAMPING)

10. to be loved

Peeta:
I feel awful for lying to Katniss, but I think it's going to be worth it when she sees what I've been working on. I've been telling her I'm sleeping, I've been up for the last 4 nights painting. I'm exhausted. I haven't slept but if I close my eyes I see my nightmares.

I can't look at my reflection without feeling ashamed. When I had the flashback, I could've hurt her, I could've put my hands on her.

Katniss would have been injured and it would be my fault. I can't help but think that one day she's going to get up and leave me because I'm not good enough. I feel like every time I take a step forward, I take a step back. But I'm determined to get better to be the person Katniss deserves.

The painting is of Prim smiling up at the person taking the picture holding buttercup, who's still alive and slithers in and out of the house whenever he feels like it, kind of like Haymitch. I got the picture from an old memory of mine, when Katniss and I were interviewing with Caesar Flickerman. When the world first saw how special she is.

With all the things Katniss has been doing for me lately, this painting is the least she deserves. I put as much detail into it more than any work I've done before. The sparkle in Prim's light eyes, the softness of the cat's fur. I've done my best to highlight it all, as if to bring her spirit into a canvas.

The slamming of the front door downstairs takes me by surprise. Katniss is back, and there's paint all over my hands. Great way to prove I'm sleeping. I race to the bathroom,
rinse off the blue paint, run to my room and quickly lie on the bed like I've been sleeping this whole time.

I'm so drained that it seems like the bed itself is dragging me in and out of consciousness. If I close my eyes for one second it'll make my lie more believable.

***

No nightmares. At first I'm confused by why, but then I see Katniss lying on my chest and it makes sense. Just looking at the freckles dusted on her nose that only I notice, the way her hand somehow found its way to my own takes all the wonder about how she got here away.

The most intimate thing we can do is allow people we love to see us at our worst. At the lowest point. The weakest. True intimacy happens when nothing is perfect. When I look at her, I see hope. Hope that we can be happy one day.

I can't help but move my body and accidentally nudge her which causes her to open her eyes and yawn.

"I woke you up, I'm sorry." I whisper just in case she's confused from a nightmare.

"It's okay. I would've woken up myself soon anyway." She mumbles, before lying back down.

"You let me sleep all day, real or not real?" Realising that I don't know why she's here or how long I've slept.

"Real. You looked too sweet for me to wake you." Katniss scowls (with no hostility), her cheeks flushing red, making me laugh.

"Glad you think I'm sweet." I whisper, chuckling, which makes Katniss playfully hit me.

"Shut up, you know what I mean, you're the one who's good with words." She sighs.

"I know, but you're good at everything else." I smile, I never want Katniss to feel bad about herself.  She's beautiful.

"What? Good at mental breakdowns? If that was a talent I'd be the winner." She laughs, I think we'd both could win that title.

Then there's silence. It's not an awkward silence, just like there's nothing either of us can think of to say...

"You love me. Real or not real?" I whisper softly. I don't know what made me blurt that out.

There's a short pause, as if both of us needed to take in the question.