Finding the Missing Piece: Book 2

Chapter Sixty-Four

Katniss POV-

"I just don't understand her, Katniss." Peeta says with tears welling up in his eyes.

I put my hand on his cheek, "Don't cry. Please, don't cry. If you cry then I'll cry." I say blinking my eyes rapidly to erase any forming tears.

Peeta gives me a sad smile, "I'm sorry about everything. You should have never had to see that." He says.

I look down at the steering wheel, "Peeta, you shouldn't have had to go through that. It's not fair and I'm sorry you did but I'm so so proud of you for finally standing up to her." I tell him truthfully.

I've never been prouder of him.

Peeta smirks, "I only was able to stand up to her because you were there. And I was afraid she would go after you too but I wouldn't have let her."

I frown, wishing I wasn't the reason he stood up to her but he did it because he had enough.

"Let's get out of here, I'm not coming back." Peeta says, turning around and putting on his seatbelt, I do the same and we go home.

"It's 12:30 now. You wanna go hang out downstairs in the living room and then we can go out tonight, if you want." Peeta suggests.

I nod, "Okay. That'll be fun." I say smiling.

Peeta gives me a fake smile and walks into the living room, I follow after him and sit down next to him on the love seat.

"Will you tell me a story?" Peeta asks me with an embarrassed under tone.

I look up at him, "I'm not good at stories."

"Just make something up. Anything."

"Okay." I say.

Peeta nods his head, "Only if you don't mind. I just really need to hear your voice right now."

"I have an idea." I say, taking two folded blankets and pillows from the living room closet.

I spread the largest blanket on the hardwood floor beneath the Christmas tree and lay the two pillows side by side. I lay down and motion for Peeta to come over. He just smiles and lays down next to me. I pull a blanket over us.

Peeta lays his head on my shoulder as I make up a story.

I play with his hair as I try to focus on the words coming out of my mouth but before I know it, I'm talking for no reason.

Peeta is fast asleep.

I kiss his head and continue playing with his hair.

Soon, I start gently tracing his features.

Every single one.

His face, the perfect jawbone he beholds, his eyebrows, his cheeks and his nose.

I trace his lips with my index finger.

I trace the curve and little pout they make when he sleeps.

And even when he is sleeping they hold so much warmth and love.

Suddenly, I feel what Peeta was looking for out of that was motherly attention.

Peeta never got any love or bonding time with his mother, she never told him bedtime stories or held him.

So he's looked to me for it but I don't mind.

Peeta is perfect.

His mother knows it but that is still no reason to hate her son.

Her own flesh and blood.