Catching Fire - Peeta's POV

Chapter Three - Apologies that Aren't

"It sounds like you really love her." Delly exclaimed. I had just finished telling her the story. Why Katniss is the girl with the dandelion.

"I guess I do. On the train journey back, I promised I would live. No, not just live. Live a full life. But it just seems to be getting harder everyday."

"Go paint. Paint what you see. I have to go, anyways. I promised mother that I would help her get a deal from Rooba at the butcher shop. Apparently I'm more persuasive. I'll see you at the Victors Feast, once you're done touring the districts." Ah yes, the infamous Victors Tour. She finishes her tea, collects her possessions, and leaves.

"See you then." I mumble.

I continue with Maryar's portrait. Today, I focus on the flames that she sits too close to. It is an orange shade, halfway between Effies' hair and the sunset. A shade in between. Afterwards, I add the shadows that curve the flames. It's what really shapes the fire. I finish with the logs that fuel the inferno before deciding to spend my time doing something else. It is only a few hours before the Victory tour.

My mind seems to wander, as I add amounts of flour and various powders. I'm not even sure if the bread will turn out edible, as my thoughts are too distracting to concentrate on anything. I can only imagine Katniss in District 6, eulogising the fallen tributes, while I stare into the unforgiving, hazelnut eyes of the nightmare that haunts me every night.

I need to see her, warm up before the big show. I finish the bread, which doesn't turn out bad, and rush to her house. It is identical to mine, in size and design, but the inside is much homier. Prim is the first to greet me, cradling me in the way only a healer could.

"I've come to see Katniss. Have you seen her today?" I ask.

"I think she's at Haymitch's house." That's all I need. I bid her goodbye, asked her to say hello to Mrs Everdeen for me, and left. I only needed a few seconds in the house before I heard the shouts off the pair.

"You should've asked Peeta."

"Ask me what?" What else could I possibly be helpful to?

"To wake me up without giving me pneumonia." Haymitch says, his hair drenched. He can only blame himself, I think. He's always drunk, or asleep. How does he deal with the nightmares for so long?

"Would you like a slice of bread, Katniss?" I ask, only now feeling the small burning sensation, from the forgotten bread in my hand.

"No, I ate at the Hob. But thank you."

"Brr. You two have got some warming up to do before the cameras get here." Haymitch, as much as I hate to admit, is right as usual. But I don't know if it is completely necessary. Why do we have to pretend to be in love? If Katniss is safe from the arena, and clearly not interested in anyone but Gale, what's to stop us from living our separate lives?

Being camera ready does not take longer than it did at the Games, but it seems like an eternity, sitting in silence. The three are silent as ever, their faces drawn taut and concentrated in the work to make me supposedly beautiful. They haven't forgotten what I said to them the last time we saw each other. I babbled on and on about how great their lives are, and how arrogant they sound. I refuse to apologise, refuse to let the Capitol make me pity them. The Capitol is the one who should at least pity us.

"I'm not going to apologise for what I said, but can't we just move past it? It is true, but I shouldn't have said it like that and-"

"Peeta, it's true." Says Trey, his peculiar Capitol accent shining more than ever. "I guess none of us really did know what it's like to live in the filthy-" he sees my face at the word. It's true, District 12 is filthy, but it is not the right time to describe my district like that. "The district that has gotten far worse than it deserves."

"We are truly sorry." Chimes in Julius. We all instinctively turn to Mollace.

"I'm sorry too! I am!" And then we laugh, but conversation does not return.