I know it's been awhile since I've updated but I hope this makes up for it!:) I forgot to mention- this is a shared account with my writer buddy haha but anyways this one is all me, we will upload stories that we wrote together soon though. And obviously I am not Suzanne Collins soo ENJOY
Earlier that same day
"Was it your bomb?"
"I don't know. Neither does Beetee," he says. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."
My eyes snap open, and I'm alone again. Alone in this bed, alone in this house, alone in this world...
Nightmares. Dreams. Hallucinations. Reality. They all blur together. It feels like I'm in a constant buzz from tracker jacket venom and liquor. As ashamed as I am to admit it- I have actually taken up drinking. Not just a little here and there either. It's constant- addictive. I don't really care if people think I'm weak because I am. Why should I try and pretend?
I never leave the Victor's Village. Greasy Sae passed away and everyone else thinks I'm a lost cause, so no one even bothers to check in on me. The only company I keep is that good-for-nothing furball of a cat.
So here I am- the person I swore I'd never become.
The door swings open just as I'm about to reach for the knob. I hardly sleep anymore and I'm not used to interruptions such as this. A long line of obscenities is about to reach my lips when I'm greeted with a face I wasn't expecting in the slightest. His hair in a mess, but I'd recognize those blue eyes anywhere.
"What the hell do you want Peeta?" I ask incredulously.
He doesn't reply. Although, very uncharacteristic of him, he does fairly shamelessly scan my body, taking in my attire. Or lack thereof. I don't really dress to impress these days, so I'm only wearing a large t-shirt. The old Catn- I mean Katniss would've been blushing like a maniac at this. But I honestly don't care.
I continue to stare at him skeptically, waiting for him to explain his presence. I'd like to say that it's too late. There's no hope for me now.
Peeta just shrugs and pushes past me through the doorway.
I follow him into the kitchen. He's resting against the table and seems amused for some reason, with that smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
Gosh, he's cute.
Wait, what? Nevermind. Why would I care? I'm no longer a teen with romance on the mind.
He walks over to me where I sit on the countertop, too close for my liking I will admit. I give him the best disapproving glare I can muster, he doesn't waver. Peeta's fingers gently trail up my face to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
"Where have you been?" I ask, still apprehensive.
Only a slight pause passes before the words escape his mouth-
"Working up the courage to do this." His lips brush mine, just briefly, waiting for my reaction.
His eyes. His smile. Those lips...
Away with estranged Katniss.
This isn't hijacked Peeta, I see no traces of him. This is my boy with the bread.
I grab his shirtfront roughly, yet efficiently, pulling him back to me.
There's a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me this is wrong. Something horrible will come of this, you just wait, it taunts. But Peeta is such a sweet distraction. Such an easy way out to forget the past. What's the harm, right? Too bad the nagging voice is usually right...
Kinda short, but there's more to come:) please, please, PLEASE review!