Begin Again

Chapter 3~ I Miss Him Even More

A/N

Don't know if I really like this chapter :/ tell me what you think :)
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Katniss's P.O.V

I wake up in an unfamiliar room and bolt up in the bed that I don't recognize. My fingers tap lightly on the bed with one hand, a nervous tick of mine, and I bite the nails on my fingers of the other. Then, I use them to scoot the blankets tucked tightly against my figure away from me. Shivers run through my body, forming chill bumps on my now bare arms. I dangle my feet from the highly elevated bed and bury my face into my hands. I know I had a nightmare last night, but I can't remember one detail of it. It isn't like I'd want to anyway, but somehow it bothers me.

When I look up, I see that across from me is a simple mirror with a brown frame. A bed and this mirror seems to be the only thing the room consists of with the exception of my boots and jacket placed neatly in the corner. I stand up on wobbly legs and make my way over to the mirror, standing before it. Even my face consists of a few scars that I can't seem to remember how I got. I also have red scratch marks running from the bottom of my ears to the end of my neck from yesterday in the closet. I slide two fingers down the rough skin around it, the long cuts hurting too much to touch directly. The roughness of my skin reminds me about how after war, I was all patched up with fresh and soft baby pink skin that has now peeled off. The thin layer wasn't expected to last long, just until all eyes of Panem were off of me. Nothing will ever be strong enough to hide my scars. I will never be ridded of my beaten appearance just like the memories will never fade. I am the reflection of the things that haunt my endless nightmares.

I undo my disheveled braid. Thin strands of black hair stick out in all directions around my roots and within the braid. A result of a night of rough sleeping. When I undo the braid from it's tightly weaved pattern it falls in thick waves past my shoulders. I sigh at the uneven tips and quickly start to redo it before the memories can come flooding back.

"Good morning Katniss."

I jump back, startled, and press myself against the cream colored wall to my left. Peeta sighs and walks in with a tray of breakfast foods. The smell of it all wafts into my nose making my mouth water. He places it gently on the bed and then turns slowly to look at me. My hair has fallen back into waves again. Peeta's blue eyes examine me for a while. Then, the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile.

"It's really amazing, you know? How beautiful you look no matter what."

I push myself off the wall that had been my only stability just a second ago when I nearly died of fright. He walks closer to me and then diligently touches a part of the scratches on my neck. I flinch and whimper, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away.

"Don't lie, and don't touch that," I hiss. I unravel my fingers' grip on him and then start to braid my hair again.

"Katniss," he whispers. I bite my lip until it bleeds and then tense when he grabs my wrist this time and pulls my hand away from my hair. "Don't," he says, softly demanding me not to braid it. He then undoes it himself, letting my hair fall, but he only pushes it away to plant a gentle kiss on my neck right next to the long trail of my scratch. I sigh at the warm touch, pondering over wether or not I like this.

"No. Stop, Peeta."

I lurch forward, reminding myself that I don't love him even though some part of me says I had missed that while he was hijacked . . . and that I still do.

"Katniss," he whispers, pain etched in his voice, "I have a question."

I frown and walk around him, sitting in bed and pulling the blankets over my lap.