It's night time. Peeta and I had our interviews today and a lot was revealed. I'm unsure as to how to react to Peeta's comments. All day I've spent trying to understand why he might even have feelings for me. Perhaps it's all for the cause of viewer entertainment. That weak boy needs all the support he can get if he wants to survive the other tributes.
How can I even have spent so much time thinking about the stupid baker boy? I barely even know him and right now is definitely not a good time for falling for anybody. There's a lot at stake falling into these games, but I'm so glad it's not prim who has to go forth.
My little duck. I wonder how she is...
I can barely keep my eyes open, but my mind is still racing awake, as if it were a doe running from a hunter. I want my thoughts to stay in my control so I can rest, but still they struggle free. I find myself thinking about Peeta again.
A sharp blade flies through the room, hitting a wall and stabbing directly in it. I don't flinch, yet I rise startled to take a look at the knife hanging from beneath a portrait. I gaze at the portrait and the woman's eyes. They seem to look back at me, but almost so much that they look through me at the doorway.
"Katniss." I hear a panicked voice say as I turn to look at the doorway. It's peeta himself, with his blouse unbuttoned so perfectly un-neat. I try not to catch his sculpted chest as I look back at his unsettled face.
"You were struck too?" He said and the words almost fell out of his lips. I walked closer to him. "Yeah, I..." I didn't even know how to finish my sentence at that point. To be honest, his figure was distracting; every crease and line of his chest that rose up and down as he breathed in and out. It was hypnotising.
"I'm glad you're okay." He said, now only half as nervous as before. I watched as his breathing slowed to a more steady rhythm. He took a step forward this time.
"That makes two of us." I replied with a giggle at the end. I realised I shouldn't have said that only after I said it. I don't even have a filter. Peeta looked surprised but his mouth edged up with a smirk. "You were worried about me?" He laughed.
"Well, I... yeah... uh..." I stumbled for words. "I don't wanna do this whole hunger games thing uh alone..." Peeta smiled. I looked away at the ground nervously.
Suddenly another blade came through the room landing parallel to the left of the previous one. I grabbed Peeta's surprisingly muscly arm and dragged him in but he struggled away to get a look at the knife thrower. I pulled him back again and slammed the door.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU DON'T JUST LOOK OUT FOR SOMEONE WHO HAPPENS TO HAVE KNIVES AND A VERY STRAIGHT AIM! FOR ALL YOU KNOW YOU MAY HAVE BEEN THEIR TARGET!" I screamed at Peeta and sunk down onto the end of my bed.
"Sorry, I just..." I carried on, not even going anywhere. He sat down next to me on the silky blankets of my bed. "I get it, Katniss. You're worried that I might get hurt." He started to stand up. "It's what you do. Look out for those less fortunate than you..." He kept on walking in a path for the door.
"Less fortunate? Peeta, I..." he stopled and turned to look at me. "You're gonna make it in these games. I've seen your muscles, trust me." I said motioning towards his abs. He laughed a bit and I stood up too. "We're both going to make it in the games. I don't know how, but we will."
We stood silently staring at eachother. His eyes gazed into mine passionately, but then he broke the stare, walking back towards the door. "Wait! Peeta!" I yelled after him, running and grabbing his hand as it was about to turn the handle. He stood with his back arched still facing the door as I ran my hands over his knuckles secretly. "Stay here with me?"
He drew in a breath and nodded.
