Of course I'm not Suzanne Collins. I'd much rather be JK Rowling since Harry Potter is WAY more happily ever after than Hunger Games ever was.

The first time I see him in months he is planting primroses outside in my front yard. For her, he tells me. I didn't ask him to do that, and at first I am angry, until it hits me that this is the first time I have felt something, anything, in months.

I run inside, thinking about how crazy I must look, and once again, for the first time, I am thinking about something. I rush upstairs, after smashing the vase and burning the white rose, and stare at myself in the mirror.

I have scars. Lots of them. My hair, though matted, is uneven, and burned in some places. I am thin, and I can't remember the last time I've eaten a good meal. There are dark circles under my eyes, proof of my lack of sleep and the nightmares that still plague me.

I shower, because I know I should, and even though I really want to crawl back into bed, I can't let him plant primroses without me helping.

She was my sister.

And planting primroses seems a better way to remember her than moping around, depressed, hiding in my room and in closets.

We plant together, in silence, and I sneak a glance at him. He is still thin, much too thin for my liking, but I cannot talk. He, at least, has his hair in tact, and I see that his eyelashes are still just as blond and luscious as they always are.

I don't know why I think of that.

Afterwards I think about inviting him over for dinner, only I don't have anything to offer him. Sae does the cooking, and I doubt she'd bring any for him as she isn't expecting him.

We still don't waste food around here, so her making extra seems out of the question, especially since I hardly eat what she brings anyway.

Maybe he wants water, I think, but asking him inside seems to take too much energy. In the end I just turn and walk back inside, closing the door behind me.

I wonder if he will follow me.

Old Peeta would have.

He doesn't, which makes me wonder who this Peeta is.

He doesn't want to kill me. At least not in this moment. He had an ample amount of time to do so while we were planting, and he didn't attempt to. And if he had? I'm not quite sure I'd have been so against it.

I go back upstairs, figure I should shower the dirt off of me, but in the end realize that that will take a lot of effort.

Instead I just climb into bed, the stupid orange cat that came back lying next to me, and when Sae comes with dinner, I eat it without talking.

I've done enough work for today.

XxXxXx

I don't see Peeta again for another couple of weeks. I see him walking from his house, and he does not return to Victor's Village until sundown. I only know this because I haven't moved from the window seat.

If it weren't for the loaf of bread he puts on my front door every morning, I would have figured I'd dreamt us planting the primroses.

For some reason I decide to sleep in front of the window, Buttercup next to me. It has nothing to do with wishing I would catch another glimpse of Peeta, I tell myself. It's just easier to stay here than to go upstairs.

I also ignore the way my breath catches when I see him again the next day, around the same time, leaving his house.

Nor do I wonder where he is off to.

One day, after he's been back little over a month—at least I think it's a month— I am surprised when he knocks on my door, poking his head and coming inside. I can hear him clomping towards the kitchen, presumably to put the loaf of bread down, and then I hear him approach me.

"Katniss." Something about the way he says my name wants me to immediately run to my closet. Whatever he's about to say, I don't want to hear it. "Katniss, you've been sitting at this window for two weeks now."

I stay silent.

"Sae tells me you're not eating." I can hear the disappointment in his voice and for some reason it makes me want to cry

That's nothing new. I always want to cry.

He kneels in front of me and I get a good look at him. He's changed since the first time I saw him, planting outside my front door. He wasn't as thin, but he had dark circles under his eyes, and I wondered, briefly, if he was having as much trouble as I was sleeping.

I missed the way he used to comfort me while we slept.

I guess I could add that to my list of things I missed.

"Katniss? Are you listening to me?"

"Go away, Peeta," I tell him, even though that's not at all what I want to say. How do I tell him I don't deserve his disappointment? "And stop bringing me bread. You don't owe me anything."

I see the hurt flash in those blue eyes, and I'm amazed that after everything I can still hurt him.

Wait.

If I can still hurt him… then that means….

The thought slips away before I let myself do something stupid, like hope.

Just because this Peeta doesn't want to kill me doesn't mean he's my Peeta.

"I don't bring you bread because I owe you," he tells me, and I can tell he's trying to keep his voice level.

"Then why? What do you care?"

He blinks, and I can tell he's trying to find the right words. "They say I care about you," he finally says, and that little spark of hope that I had tried to ignore dwindled and fizzled out.

He still doesn't remember.

"If I care about you, I don't want you starving."

"You cared about an old Katniss," I told him coldly. "She's long gone, and even less deserving than this Katniss." I stood up. "And you are not my Peeta."

Before I brush past him I see that hurt in his eyes again, followed by confusion, and then pain, and suddenly I know what's about to happen.

He seems to know too, because his body gets tense, and his pupils start to dilate.

It's over just as quickly as it started, but the damage is done.

He takes a shaky breath and won't meet my eye. He just leaves, his fists clenched, his muscles tight.

I run, runaway, because I know I did this to him, to us, so I run to my closet, choking back a sob.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen," I whisper into the dark. "I've survived two Hunger Games. I live in Victor's Village, the only remaining part of District 12. I destroyed Peeta Mellark. I am a monster."

XxXxXx

He stops bringing bread for about a week, and I don't see him leave his house during that time either.

I think I have finally pushed him away, and I pretend to feel relieved, because now he doesn't feel obligated to care, and he can move on.

I can't describe the feeling I get when I see Delly heading to his house one day.

When did she get back?

I stayed glued to the window, and my heart drops when I see them leaving together, arm in arm.

I don't know why I'm crying when the tears come.

I shower for the first time in weeks the next day. I am already up when Sae arrives, her granddaughter behind her.

"I'm going hunting," I tell her, and she seems surprised, but she nods and smiles. I grab my bow and head out to the woods.

I lose track of time—that's nothing new—but kill several things, mainly rabbit and wild turkey. When I get home Sae is gone, but there is food for me. Instead of immediately eating I clean the game, dividing it up into four piles: one for Sae, one for Haymitch, one for me, and one for Peeta.

Peeta has the most.

I eat and then make my way into town. It's the first time I've been to town since I've been back, and the destruction is overwhelming. I keep my head down to avoid looking at the mess, and the few people who have come back to rebuild.

I arrive at what's left at the Hob to give Sae her game. She asks me if I want to stay but I decline, heading back to Victor's Village. Next I head to Peeta's leaving him the game. I piled it up in front of his door, taking the coward way out and leaving instead of knocking.

Next I head across to Haymitch's, this time knocking and then walking inside.

"You went hunting," said Haymitch.

"Nothing gets passed you," was my response, my voice hoarse. Things are still kind of tense between us, but he's my mentor, and even though I largely ignore him, he checks in on me at least once a week. I look at him. "I'm surprised you're up."

Haymitch shrugs as I sit the game down, looking around.

"Why's it so clean?"

Haymitch shrugs again. "Peeta had Sae start cleaning my place."

I stare at him. "Are you sober?"

"Maybe."

I look at him, really look at him, and notice his eyes are clear. "When's the next train come in?"

Again, he shrugged, and my temper flares.

And then, before I can snap at him, my attention deflates, and I just turn around and leave.

"I'm glad to see you have a little fight in you left," he calls after me. I keep walking. "Add that to your list of things Peeta does for you that makes you not deserve him."

I slam his door so hard the windows rattle.

Knocking forces me out of the closet, because it's persistent.

Whoever it is refuses to go away.

And they're not knocking on my front door, but the closet door.

It's Haymitch.

I scowl, and turn away from him when he crawls down next to me.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm not taking sobriety very well."

I ignore him.

"I need you and Peeta to get your shit together," he continues. "I'm leaving in a few days."

I don't know why my belly fills with dread at the thought of Haymtich leaving.

Half the time I hate him, the other half I'm indifferent to his existence.

"You're leaving me too," I accuse him, still not looking at him. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears.

"I'm going to go get help for my drinking," he explains, and now I do look at him. "I figure I'm going to have to be around for a long time to make sure you and Peeta don't kill each other." I just stare at him. "You and Peeta—"

"There is no me and Peeta," I say, and he just stares at me.

Sighing he stands up. "If you think that, then you're more fucked up than Peeta and I combined."

And with that, he was gone.

XxXxXxXx

The next morning I wake up earlier than usual, having had a restless night.

At least I didn't get nightmares.

I tried not to think too hard about what Haymitch said.

There couldn't be a me and Peeta.

He had Delly.

I am about to go out hunting, the door swinging open, and I nearly bump into Peeta.

We both stand still, looking at each other. I can see the shock on his face at me being in front of him. He visibly pales when he sees the bow in my hand, and I watch as his breath hitches and his eyes go wide. He drops the bread, his fists clenching, and then he gasps out, "Not real," and he's fine.

"I'm sorry," he tells me, bending down to pick up the loaf of bread. "I'll make you another one."

I shake my head. "That's okay," I say softly. He looks like I just rejected him. "You can make it up to me by bringing me cheese buns tomorrow."

I try my damnest to ignore the butterflies in my stomach when he smiles, but it's hard. It's such a strange sensation, one I hadn't felt in a long time.

I need to ignore it, because he doesn't belong to me anymore.

"Deal," he says, a triumphant look in his eyes. "Thanks for all the game. I'll be eating for weeks."

I nod.

"Why'd you give me so much?"

"For you and Delly," I say without thinking.

His brow furrows. "Delly?"

"Yah. I saw you two the other day. Your arms were linked."

He stares at me for a long moment. "So you bought me game after you saw me and Delly together?"

"Yes." I force a smile. "I'm happy for you."

"I'm not with Delly," he snaps out, and his tone frightens me. "She's like a sister to me."

"But I saw you two—"

"I can link my arms with a woman and it not mean anything. You're living proof of that, aren't you? We held hands for two years for the cameras and it didn't mean anything."

Ice cold.

It's the only thing I can think to describe how I feel right now.

"Peeta—" I try to say, but he cuts me off.

"Real or not real?"

Oh no. Are we back to this?

"Real or not real, Katniss?"

"Real," I whisper, and then I turn around, slamming the door in his face, because I can't explain myself to him. I can't tell him that it started off as a game and became real. How do I explain it? How can I?

I drop my bow, running back to my closet, my safe haven, because there are so many emotions running through me.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. I live in District 12. I destroyed the Capitol. I am in love with Peeta Mellark."

Saying it aloud makes me cry.

I stay there long into the night, until a nightmare wakes me up and I wake up screaming at the top of my lungs, the dark consuming me.

I escape out of the closet, running, running, running, heading down the stairs and to the front door. Leaving it wide open I head out, letting my feet guide me, my brain only vaguely aware of where I'm going, but my heart knowing. My heart knew the minute I woke up from my nightmare.

I stop myself from going inside as it hits me that I have no right to do this. I can't ask him to take care of me, not after everything, and since he's been hijacked, he has no reason to.

Instead I will myself to go back home, and face my demons, but my house is just so dark.

I tell myself I'll just sit at his door for a little while.

"Katniss, what the hell," is what I hear to wake me up, but before I could blink open my eyes a pair of strong arms engulf me. I scream at first, cursing myself for letting my guard down, and knowing I'm near death. And then his hold tightens around me and then I'm buried in his chest, and I smell that sweet, familiar scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and flour that I know at once is Peeta. "It's okay," he murmurs, stroking my hair, and then I burst into tears.

He holds me, just holds me, like he used to, until I calm down. Eventually I feel him taking me upstairs. He puts me down on something soft—his bed—and lets me go, and I tense, and grab for him, the tears coming again.

"No. Don't leave," I say frantically.

"I'm just going to go turn on the shower," says Peeta, and kneels at my side. I can barely see him because my eyes are so swollen and puffy. I shake my head, telling him he can't leave, so he picks me up and walks me to the bathroom, sitting me on the counter. He holds my hand as he reaches over, turning on the shower. "Take a shower Katniss," he tells me. "You're freezing. Take a shower. I'll be right outside the door, okay?"

Again, I shake my head.

"I can't go in there with you, Katniss."

He could, and that thought scares me, because I don't know where it comes from, so I finally allow him to leave me so I could shower.

When I'm finished I find a pair of his sweats and a tank top laid out for me.

I dress and go downstairs, softly calling Peeta's name.

When he doesn't answer I call it again, louder.

Still no answer.

I panic, because the last time he didn't answer me I found out the Capitol took him.

I scream his name, rushing to the kitchen, where I stop dead in my tracks.

Peeta's tied up in a chair, his eyes unclear, wide, red, his mouth open as he gasped for air. The kitchen is a mess: there's flour everywhere, pots and pans on the floor, and broken glass everywhere.

I want to help him.

That's new. I haven't wanted to help somebody in a long time.

I take a tentative step forward, my eyes locked with Peeta's, when he says, "Run, before I kill you."

I don't even think twice.

I just do as I told.

XxXxXx

I'm furious with myself when I finally come around two days later. After leaving Peeta's I ran to my closet, fearing for my life, afraid and convinced that Peeta would find me and kill me.

Now I know why Haymitch sleeps with a knife.

When I finally crawled out of the closet I ran downstairs and locked all my windows and doors, ensuring that nobody, not even the Capitol would get in.

Greasy Sae tried to get me to open up, but I ignored her. When Peeta comes knocking, he's filled with apologies, but in my fear I tell him to leave me alone and never return, because he's dangerous, and I'm scared of him.

"You're scared of me?" he asks gently, and I give him a firm yes.

Even now I'm still a liar.

I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid of how he makes me feel. I'm afraid of letting my guard down and getting hurt again.

When I try to talk to him a few days after he ignores me. I actually hear the door lock while I'm knocking, and it hurts, more than I thought possible. I stayed outside until my voice was hoarse.

He didn't leave his house for two days, and then I see Delly walking towards his house about a week later.

He lets her in, and I can't ignore the jealousy or the anger.

She always could help him, even when I couldn't.

I go back into my depression for about another month, until one day I wake up with the desire to go hunting. I catch squirrel, head home, clean it, and leave some for Peeta again.

The next morning there's bread outside my door.

I feel something loosen in my chest, and feel something else blossoming.

It's hope.

XxXxXx

I'm watching TV one day, just because I was about to go stir crazy, when my front door opens.

A few seconds later Peeta sits down next to me, the cushions sinking in.

We don't talk for a long time. He just sits next to me, and it's the closest we've been since the morning I came over and he held me.

Sae seems surprised when she comes over for dinner, but pleased, and she makes enough for him. She does not stay, though, and I wish she had, because now Peeta and I are sitting at the table, across from each other, stealing glances at each other, but not saying anything.

Afterwards we did the dishes together, still silent, but still working well as a team.

The TV was still on when he was leaving, and I saw Paylor on the screen, talking about building memorials in honor of the fallen victims.

An idea crept its way into my brain, taking place in only a few seconds. By the time he reached the door I called out to him.

"Do you remember our plant book?"

He turned to me, slowly, and then nodded. "Real," he says.

I hesitate, because that response reminds me of all that he's been through, and maybe this isn't such a good idea.

But I'm selfish, so I keep going.

"We should make another one, for the Games, and include everybody: Finnick, Johanna, Chaff, Seeder, Mags." I gulp. "Rue…." I braced myself, because I don't remember the last time I said her name aloud. Probably when I saw her going up in flames. "Prim." I clear my throat, hurriedly moving on. "I'll write, you draw."

He looks at me for a long moment, and then slowly nods. "Okay, Katniss."

He's about to leave again when I blurt out, "I didn't mean it." He stiffens, his hand on the doorknob, but doesn't turn around. "I'm not afraid of you Peeta."

"Then why'd you say it?" His back was still to me.

"Because I'm afraid of me, and what I do to you."

I can tell that's not the answer he expects when he turns to look at me, his eyebrows raised. I can see him debating something in his head, and in the end, he decides to leave it alone.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Katniss."

I nod, understanding that he was forgiving me again.