Another contest Oneshot. Don't worry I'm still working on all my other stories.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Peeta reached for the bottle again, taking a swig from its crystal depths. This is what his life had become, one meaningless swirl of amber liquid. He was trapped in a sequence of mourning, then numbness. With each sip the glass bottle made a satisfying swish, slowly draining.

He was so stuck without her. He had no reason to leave the awkward comfort of his living room; she was gone. He was confined within himself, unable to move forward, trapped in his past.

He slammed the bottle down, gently admiring the empty crystal with disdain. He didn't know what to do anymore. Urging himself on, he took a tentative step up off his seat, making his way to the kitchen.

He knew the second bottle was in the cupboard above the fridge, awaiting him peacefully.

"You've got a secret stash," he teased, pulling on her brown locks playfully.

"Shut up," she said firmly. "It's only for special occasions."

He chuckled softly, a cheeky grin finding its way to his face. "Does today count?"

She just smiled, giving him a light peck on the lips. "Nope,"

Peeta stepped up to the fridge, finding the picture on the door. His brow furrowed at the sight, and he ran his hand down the bright colours. It wasn't fair; she was gone and he was trapped here, all alone. He admired the drawing for a moment, then pulled it off the shiny surface, crumpling it in his fist. The tears he had been holding back finally flowed freely. The drawing represented everything he'd lost; it was just one more thing holding him in place.

"What's this?" he asked, his voice light.

She lifted an eyebrow knowingly, raising a hand to trace the crayon drawing. "Maddie from across the street drew it. She said that it's you, and me, and the little girl that we are going to have that she is very excited about babysitting"

The smile dropped from his face, and he looked at her in shock.

"Katniss?" he asked hopefully, looking deep into her eyes.

A smile broke out on her face, and she covered it with her hand, nodding swiftly.

He gasped, grabbing her and twirling her in his arms. "She's gonna be beautiful," he whispered, holding her tightly. "Our little Sarah…"

He banged his fist against the counter, attempting to release some of his anger. His Katniss was gone, along with their little girl. He dropped the bottle, listening to the sickening crash as it hit the tile. What was he living for anyways? She had been all that mattered, all that kept him moving. Now he was trapped in his sorrow.

His feet moved along the empty hallway, taking him to the cabinet. He opened it up, finding the desired reward.

"Katniss Everdeen, my wife, meant everything to me." He choked on his words, unable to get the picture of her lifeless body out of his mind. "She was the reason that I got up in the morning, the reason that I bothered with a job, and house. She was my home. Being with her exhilarating; she was freedom, dancing in the wind." He looked down at his hands, pausing a moment. "I don't know what I'm gonna do without her, and our daughter. She was my life…"

Peeta unscrewed the cap of the yellow bottle solemnly, dumping the ivory capsules out onto the counter. He was tired, tired of being alone, tired of being sad; he was tired of being stuck. He didn't know who he was anymore; nothing mattered without her.

His hand shook as he brought it to his mouth, tipping his palm gloomily.

He was ready to be free again.

Peeta held her hand as she ran, tugging him around violently. Her hair blew like fire in the find, engulfing the world in flames. She pulled him down to the ground, forcing him to lie down beside her in the grass.

She looked at him intensely, her warm hazel eyes on his. She refused to loosen her grasp on his hand, and he held on just as tightly.

"Peeta?" she asked, gazing up at the cloudless sky in awe.


"I think this is what it means to be free,"

And he couldn't help but agree.