I wake to a sudden pain on my neck, a feeling I have felt many times before, but it never fails to surprise me, shock me. I shriek out as my hands attempt to grasp a hold of whatever is rung around my neck. Finding fingers clamped around my throat, I use my nails to try to pierce the skin of the strong hands that are closing my airway, failing as they only tighten.
I can't breathe. I can't yell. And I'm out like a light...
My eyes open once again. In my line of vision, I see a familiar blonde figure hovering over me. Though my vision is blurry, I see tears streaming down the cheeks of the person. I can't tell who it is, I'm disoriented.
They cup my face in their hands, sobbing as they brush my hair off of my forehead.
"Katniss.. Please," they beg through stifled sobs, "Say something, anything." By the voice, I can tell its Peeta.
I try muttering a simple "Peeta," but am cut off by a sharp pain in my throat, letting out a groan as my jaw clenches.
I take deep, heavy breaths as I try to focus my eyes on him. My eyes feel heavy as I slowly start to realize I'm still lying on the bed, the sun barely over the horizon as the orange rays glare through the window. He looks more calm now, the tears dried on his cheeks. I blink a few times before attempting to speak again, successfully saying his name.
His frown and worried expression turns into one of which is full of overly excited delight, coating his face with a bright smile as he leans down, hugging me gently before pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Katniss, I'm so happy you're okay. I cannot apologize enough for what happened. I'm so, so sorry."
I slowly shake my head, sitting up after he pulls away from me. I rub my eyes before looking at him, my head still shaking as I speak softly, my throat still soar, "It wasn't your fault, Peeta. You can't blame yourself."
He only nods, not believing me but not wanting to argue. I know this because its what happens every time. If he argues, he knows I'm right and that I will win, so he just drops it.
Everytime this happens, we normally just go on with what we were doing before his little "episode," so we do.
"May as well just get up now, eh?" I say, carefully standing up off the bed.
He nods, getting up as well. We both get dressed before going downstairs after I tell him I will make breakfast, berries, the ones I had picked in the forest, and some scrambled eggs. Greasy Sae has always been our trader; I give her a deer for three dozen eggs. And that's how it's been since things have almost returned to normal.
We eat our breakfast quietly, not much talking going on besides casual conversation: "Are you going hunting today?", "How's the bakery holding up?", and "Haymitch says 'Hey.'"
Once we are finished, I decide to take us to the meadow, a familiar place to the both of us. We usually come here once a month or so, careful not to come too often. I like not coming often. It makes it special, making me look forward to coming here more. The fences have been taken down and a clear trail has been made, leading directly to the meadow. I walk hand-in-hand with Peeta until we come up to a boulder, an object I've always used as a landmark, indicating the open fields are not much farther down the path.
The walk there, too, is quiet. The only things that are really distinct are the sounds of the Autumn leaves crunching under our feet, the mockingjays chirping, whistling to one another as they mimic each other's tunes, and Peeta's humming. Its something I've become accustomed to since he does it when he's content. He mainly does it in the bakery or when we are sitting together in the livingroom of our home. Its also something I use to calm myself, let myself focus only on him and him alone, not what tasks I need to complete this day, not how much I'd give to have my family back, him. Its soothing. Just like the singing mockingjays. Beautiful.
