A/N: Okay, so Lauren loved it! :D She was speechless! So, I decided she needed more soon. She knows where I live, so if I don't post it may get ugly!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.

For You Lauren!

I woke up to the sun streaming in my windows. The house was entirely silent, and as I turned around, I noticed the sheets were cold. Peeta hadn't been there for a while. He was there when I went to sleep. So where is he now?

I slip out of the bed, and make my way down to the kitchen, where I hope to find Peeta. He isn't there either. Now I'm a bit worried. I walk around the large house, occasionally calling out Peeta's name.

"Peeta!" I call more loudly. I hear a distracted, "Hm?" come from the room next door, and I smile, glad I'm not alone. "What'cha doing?" I ask, sitting down on the floor beside him. We're in the solarium, and Peeta's sketching the forest out back. "You can draw?" I ask. "Yeah. I used to sketch you and other things all the time," he replies. I feel stupid suddenly, but I realize he's forgotten my condition. He expects me to remember. "You did?" I ask. "Mm hm," he says, quickly sketching one of the old, singed trees.

"Do you have them?" I ask after a moment of silence. "I have your favorite one," he says, pulling a loose page out of the mess of sketchpad. He hands it to me, and I study it. It's me, lying on the floor, in his lap. I'm playing with the hem of his shirt, and I look content. Like that moment had meant more than anything ever.

And suddenly tears spring to my eyes, and Peeta's quick to notice. "What's wrong?" he asks. "I wish I could remember this... all of it," I sob, pressing my face into his shoulder. He holds my body as I fall apart, and suddenly I just wish everything was "normal." I just want to remember. "Oh, Peeta! I wish I could remember!" I cry, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You will..." he assures me. "I want to now! I don't want to wait," I say miserably, unwrapping one arm to wipe my eyes.

He takes my face into his hands, and places a light kiss on my right cheek. "You'll remember. But, as long as you're home... with everyone, that's all that matters," Peeta says. "I guess you're right, Peeta... but no one knows how frustrating it is! You try and try to remember, but it just doesn't come to you. And just when you think you have it, it goes away," I say, tears threatening to spill again.

Peeta pulls me close to his chest and plants a gentle kiss on the top of my head. "I want to remember it all, so badly!" I sob. "You will, Katniss. We'll help you," Peeta assures me. "Do you know how I got taken?" I ask. "I mean, I don't remember anything about myself, or of all of you or even what happened while I was at the Capitol," I say, hysterics cracking my voice. "None of us know. Only you did," he says. "But we'll try to figure it out, Katniss. And believe me, I will make the Capitol pay. You've been through a lot," he says. And just hearing him say this makes me realize just how selfless he is.

"Why do you think they wanted me?" I ask after a long pause. "They wanted you Katniss. They wanted you dead, so strongly," Peeta says. He has trouble with the word dead when my name is in the same sentence apparently.

I'm sure he's tired of the interrogation, but one more question blurts out. "Why do you love me, Peeta?"

He seems shocked a moment, but he thinks it over and says, "Because you were never mine to have. Because you're nice than you think, and strong and bautiful. And you're so hard to convince, that it's laughable. You're so difficult to sway, too. And you're so hard to get for myself," he says the last part lightly, almost sheepishly.

"That doesn't sound like me," I say stupidly. It isn't harsh. I just don't know myself. "It's you. Trust me," Peeta says, rubbing circles on my back. "That's not even half of the reasons why I love you, Katniss," Peeta says, a small smile playing at his lips.

I'm sitting at the dining room table, looking through the millions of sketches Peeta had left. I know it's a bit rude, but I can't help myself. Most of the sketches are of scenery, or just random people. The rest of them are all of me. I don't know how he drew me so much. Then again, I don't know much anymore. We'd really only just been around each other a bit, I've been told, and these drawings spark little memories in me. I never saw him outside the bakery, I begin to realize.

How did he have so many drawings? As I look at them, I notice one that seems almost too familiar. It's me, but I look like I'm about to die. Not by some crazy person, but just dying. I look too tired to be considered healthy. I wonder how and where he got this one. I bring my face closer, and suddenly, a memory comes over me.

The rain pours down, soaking my clothes entirely through. I watch through the windows of the bakery as Peeta's mother takes the rolling pin to his head. I see in his hands, two loaves of burnt bread. It isn't like him, the baker's son, to burn anything at all, really. His mother follows him outside, yelling at him to get rid of the bread. As she walks inside, my heavy eyes catch Peeta's, and he tosses one loaf to the pigs in the pen on the side of the bakery. I shift a bit as I notice he's still looking at me. He tosses the second loaf in my direction, and I nod my head in thanks, and run off before anyone else can see me.

I don't think I've ever thanked him for the bread.

As I place the sketches back in order, I hear my front door open, and I know it's Peeta. I walk to the kitchen where I expect to see Peeta. As I enter the room, I see him.

Except it's not Peeta.

I'm scared, suddenly. This face is so unfamiliar.

"Hello, Katniss," he says.

A/N: Okay! Cliffie! Who do you think 'he' is? Is 'he' evil or good? Oh, the suspense! :D I'll try to update again tomorrow! :D Thanks for the reviews so far, too!