Twisted Perfection ~ Everlark

Re-connecting.

Peeta's Pov:

As I walk through the victors village court, I feel a wave of relief and nostalgia hit me. It's strange, being here again after so long. Despite how long I'd been away, I still remember everything about the place; the yellow primroses planted in the front yard, the soft tinkling of the wind chimes that remind me of summer afternoons. The yellow paint on the garden fence had faded since I had last seen it, but I still recognise it. It looks like the colour of the sun on a summer's mid-afternoon. To anyone else this is a house like all the others exactly like it on this street, but to me it is sanctuary, it is cocoon, it is rest.

I walk up to the door, dragging my luggage behind me. Expecting to see the furniture still in the same formation, but with a thick coat of dust overlapping it, when I enter my old house, I am struck with a feeling of surprise. To my astonishment, the house is even different than I expected. The furniture is as I left it. Nothing has changed. The sofas still appear warm and inviting. The brass pots in the kitchen remain so clean, you can see your own reflection in them. But what really shows that it's different is the vase of flowers that sits on my kitchen table right in the centre.

The vase is beautiful in it's simplicity, just as a canvas is simply there to hold the  art so lovingly applied, it allows the flowers to take centre stage. They are so bold in the room, and all the more wonderful for it. So many vibrant hues dance in a breeze that saunters in through open doors and windows, together a festival for eyes who care to see.

But what is more altering and beautiful to these flowers isn't the hue, though they are vibrant and gorgeous, but the fact that they are fresh. They only look a day old, even that. And only one thought enters my frail mind; Katniss was here.

To prove my previous point, and to prove I'm not delusional, though I'm sure I could be, I see a letter standing proudly behind and leaning against the vase, marked with my name: Peeta. The shapes of the letters are remarkably strong, written with expertise and confidence in symmetrical lines. I drop my luggage and presume to pick up the letter and open it, following the lines of where it had been folded, just so I don't rip it.

When I open it, it reads:

Dear Peeta,
                  I've written this letter too many times to count, only to go and crumple it up and throw it into the fire. Therefore, I've promised myself that I'll send this draft.

The last thing I'd want to do to you right now, is to lie. So, I won't. Without even guessing, I know you're journey and how many infinite battles you've put up with and how many will still lay ahead. I also know that many times a day, you will feel like giving up, but there's only one thing stopping you; me. I won't let you admit defeat because only one person would be damaged beyond repair if you gave up. Me. You need to keep going.

These past few months have been the most torturous and racking months of my life. So, therefore it's comprehensible to say that without you, I'm lost. Before I met you, Peeta Mellark, I never knew what it was like to be able to look at someone at smile for no reason. When I look at you, I see a humane, loving and pulchritudinous soul and I don't want that to ever change. I don't want the way you paint or the way you sleep to change. You may be asking, why does she not want anything to change? Maybe it's because everyone I've ever loved has left me. Nothing has ever been certain or definite. 

My eyes fill with tears. She's completely correct. Nothing in our lives has never been permanent. It's always been a gambling game of when and how. When will we die? How will we die? In the games? By Snow?

But you didn't leave me. You came back. You came back from a place you execrate so much. Therefore, I hope you can finally find peace and comfort in your old home, here in 12. At some point, whenever you're ready, I'd love you to join me for some hunting, or even a walk in the meadow. But for the meantime, you need to rest. Please don't feel obliged to paying me or Haymitch a visit. You know you're always welcome. I've missed you Peeta. 

I've missed you too Katniss. I think to myself. I've missed you too.

I once told you that I needed you. That still applies now. Stay with me?

All my love and kindness for the future, Katniss, forever your friend. 

I can only will myself to say one thing out loud:

"Always."