All right, this is my first Hunger Games story. I have recently read them all, and it has quickly become an unhealthy obsession. Naturally, I had to turn to fanfiction for it.
I hope I give the characters justice, and keep them in character as much as possible for you all!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games in any way, shape or form.
Life was finally beginning to settle. The nightmares would still come, but Peeta was always there to drive them away, just as I was there during his episodes. He's already done so much for me, it's only fair.
Besides, I love him.
We've grown closer and closer each day since I confessed this, the night he asked if the love was real or not real. Everything that had happened between us from the first Hunger Games on now made sense, and I realized how much I was fooling myself. Ignoring the fire that coursed through me during that first true kiss in the cave; I had other things to focus on.
When I think of Gale, I wonder if I ever did love him like he loved me. At times I feel like the reason I would try and think of him in a romantic way is because we owed it to each other to see if we could be something more.
I had told him I couldn't be with him knowing what Peeta was going through, what with the torture messing with his mind, but in all honesty I don't know if I could have been with him even if that didn't happen.
What would life had been like if Gale had returned to District 12 as well? In the end I would have picked Peeta, and I wonder how that would affect our relationship; obviously our friendship would be strained, but it already was considering what happened to Prim.
I never allowed myself to think of love before, or really feel it. In all actuality, you cannot help but to feel it, but it's easy to ignore it.
There were so many instances where I did things out of love, but I figured it was because I owed him. How many times I have saved him, when I was going to kill him with the syringe so he would not be torture. That's not an "I owe you", that is love. I finally realize that, with his help.
I always feel like I'm taking advantage of him when he spends his time comforting me, when he has so much pain to bear as well. Whenever he has one of his episodes, I want to help, but I don't know how. Perhaps out of fear.
Like Cinna, he shows his pain in his work. His paintings were dark for a while, but recently they have turned nice. He would often paint me in all sorts of ways; my dress from the first Hunger Games, in our home when I help him bake bread, me hunting.
One thing I had begged him to never paint were roses.
I sometimes wonder what life would be like if the rebellion would never have happened, and if I did not act out at the first Hunger Games. I also wonder what it would have been like it Primrose and Peeta's names were never drawn. Would we have ever talked?
I'm sure it wouldn't be on my part if we did. He would have had to come to me.
Would I have ended up in love with Gale in the end? No, I don't think so. We're too much alike. It wouldn't end up working, I'm sure; he's much better suited as my best friend.
And if the names were drawn, what if I allowed Peeta to die? What would life be like then? I'm sure the rebellion would have happened at some point anyway, but I would not be apart of it. Maybe I would have burned with the rest of District 12, the girl on fire forgotten completely.
But most of all, I would have never forgiven myself for killing him.
I think of all of this while lying next to him in bed, only covered by a sheet as I stroke his chest.
He stirs and he turns to me, his blue eyes opening and a soft smile adorning his face. "Good morning, sweetheart."
I smile back, sure it's as soft as his. He's really been rubbing off on me, but I don't mind. Everyone seems to love him, so it is not a bad thing. "Morning." We sit in silence for a few moments. "I think I'm going to go hunting today."
He nods and stretches his arms out, wrapping one around my bare waist to pull me closer. "All right. I think I'm going to go into town for a bit; I'm low of flour."
Before I can continue, we hear loud steps coming toward our room. My heartbeat increases rapidly and I grip Peeta's arm, sure that someone has come back to take us from this world.
I sigh in relief when Haymitch stumbles into the room, then feel anger swell at his intrusion. "What are you doing here, Haymitch?" My voice is flat, with a tinge of annoyance.
He chuckles. "don't get your panties in a bunch, sweetheart."
I pull the sheet up farther when I notice him really taking us in.
He grins, leaning against the doorframe. "Was I interrupting something."
"No, Haymitch. Now go so we can get up." Peeta sounds as annoyed as I am.
Haymitch waves us off and stumbles out the door, then pokes his head back in his a grin. "I call godfather."
I grab a pillow and throw it at the door, just missing his head when he ducks it back out. I turn to Peeta, letting the sheet drop as I sit up. "We're changing the locks on the house."
He simply laughs.