This is short but I would imagine the chapters getting longer in the future. Suggestions are welcomed.
Thanks for reading. Please review.
The house feels cold tonight. Too quiet. Everything always feels like that now but for some reason at this moment everything feels so much more pronounced. I wander the house hoping to find something. Some comfort. Some distraction. But there is nothing here but me and the memories that haunt me.
I end up standing in the foyer waiting. I'm not sure what I'm waiting for until he walks through the door. He doesn't even knock or check if the door is locked. It never is for him. Peeta doesn't say anything when he sees my state. I'm wrapped up in my blanket, barefoot, and holding the distressed expression I have whenever the nightmares are particularly rough.
"I heard you scream." He tells me quietly. I must have been louder than I thought. "Then nothing. I was…nervous I guess."
He should have been nervous about me. The idea of killing myself is still not out of my head. It's still swirls around my dark thoughts and I let it stay there and dream up possibilities of how I would do it. And the longing to do it usually coincides with one of my nightmares. Yes, nervous is the right feeling to have.
"I…uh…I wanted to make sure you were okay." He presses his lips together and stares at me.
I realize the house is not that cold suddenly. The air has been lit up with his words. The silence is only mine. My chest relieves some tension and I know I want him here with me.
I grab his hand and he follows me upstairs. I go straight to my bedroom and to my disheveled bed. I let go of his hand and climb back in. He is frozen with the question 'Are you sure?' written on his face. I don't answer him. I just wait until finally he is able to move and lies down on the other side of the bed. It doesn't take much to get his arms wrapped around me. It doesn't take much to have our breathing level out. We are sleep sooner than I could have hoped.
It's like this for few days. He comes over expected but not planned in the middle of the night about the same time he came the first time. Then in a few weeks he starts coming over for dinner instead of waiting for the suffocation of the dark night. We work on the book in the evening instead of during the day. We try to focus on more positive things so our nightmares will perhaps be more lenient on us.
I wake up one night soon after though from a harsh dream.
The sky filled with parachutes and everyone I love below is grasping at them as if something absolutely needed is inside of them. Only I know the truth but I am up the flag pole again screaming at them to run. In all of their hands the people that I love, alive and dead, the parachutes magically land. They look up at me. It's the same looks I saw on the rebels' faces when I spoke. They see the Mockingjay.
I scream until my dream mutes my voice. They still hold the parachutes in their hands looking helpless and confused. Then suddenly just like in reality the parachutes blow up setting on fire everyone. Their bodies disintegrate before my eyes but their faces remain still looking up at me with the same expressions.
Then suddenly they start chanting my name. "Katniss. Katniss. Katniss."
I wake up screaming with Peeta's face above me. My arms are pined to my sides. I suppose I was flailing around too much for him. "It's okay." He tells me.
I cry. No, it wasn't okay but I understood what he meant. It's okay because our dreams make the reality even worse. Even more painful. We are only subconsciously torturing ourselves.
He holds me as I cry myself out but I am unable to slip back into sleep. When I finally am quiet he pulls back and I read the same painful expression I'm sure I have. He kisses my forehead gently and then my tear stained cheeks. I see he's been crying too.
I grab his face with my two hands wanting to study him. Wanting to understand him the same way he understands me. I kiss his cheeks as gently as he had mine. Then I have the strange urge to kiss him on the lips. I struggle with the desire feeling like I don't deserve to feel comfort like this. But the pain is too much. Too present in my chest still from the dream. I give in and press my lips to his.
He doesn't resist. He doesn't question me. He doesn't have to.
That night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach and I know this would have happened anyway.
He is warm and needed. I don't hide the want of him this time. I kiss him harder and more passionately. I feel him respond with equal fervor. Between our kisses I feel his tongue peek out and lick my lips. I touch my tongue to his and let him have the kisses he always wanted. I am consumed by him and I don't fear it or avoid it. Above me he trembles as I allow my hands to run through his hair and down his back.
We slow down. He stares at me for a long uninterrupted time. I let him with asking why. I know now my choice has always been him. He was mine before the Capitol took him away, and he is mine now even after everything they did to him. I can't let him go. I hope he sees it in my eyes.
So when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"
I answer back with no shred of doubt. "Real."