Chapter Text
I don’t know why I expected everything to just be okay after the games. I think I lost that naivety after I saw Rue die. Nothing can ever be the same for me again. I hope I’m able to learn how to forget, but judging by Haymitch’s lifestyle, I’m not sure if any victor has figured that out yet.
And I have no idea how to convey this to Peeta. He’s standing on the edge of the tracks, a pained, forlorn expression lining his face.
“It was all for the games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.”
“Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding my flowers. I pull at one of the little white petals.
“Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says.
“I don't know. The closer we get to District 12 the more confused I get.” He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming.
“Well let me know when you work it out.” He turns to walk away
“The cave,” I blurt out. “I- Please don’t leave me.” He stops and turns, exasperated and a little confused, but says nothing.
“Please, Peeta, I don’t know how to… this isn’t fair!” I know I sound like a child, and my voice is starting to warble like I’m going to cry. It does nothing to garner his sympathy, however. If anything he looks more angry than before.
“Not fair?” He seethes. “To you? You’re the one who lied! You used me!” I keep wishing I could think of a way to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their games. I feel a pang of guilt. I did use him. To keep him alive, yes, but I used him nonetheless.
But the cave…I hadn’t been lying the whole time. It was selfish of me, probably, to do what I did in order to keep Peeta Mellark. But there were things I felt in the games that I wasn’t prepared to name, or didn’t know how to, which is making it incredibly difficult to explain to Peeta.
“I didn’t want you to die!” I match his tone. “I didn’t want to lose you! I didn’t mean to lie to you, I just– I didn’t want to lose you.” I suck in a shaky breath. “And this is all so much, so fast that I can’t even make sense of it. And I’m so scared of whatever I’m feeling, and of who I’m going to be from now on, and what’s going to happen after we get off this train. But I still don’t want to lose you.” I’m practically babbling now, and the tears that were threatening seconds ago are flowing freely down my cheeks. I’m too panicked to even be embarrassed, and in the back of my mind, I’m distressed that he’s seeing me cry.
Peeta stands dumbfounded, the way a deer looks just before an arrow strikes between its eyes. He glances down at the flowers, now hanging limply at my side, and then up again at my face. “You won’t lose me,” he says quietly. He steps back toward me. I wipe my tears on my sleeve and look up at him expectantly.
“It is a lot, isn’t it,” He says, and chews the side of his lip for a moment, as if he’s thinking. Then he sighs.
“We can…maybe we need to start over. No more debts, no more…lying or…we can just start where we’re supposed to.”
I have no idea where we’re “supposed” to start.
He must see my confusion because he steps forward again and says, “I think most people start out friends.”
I was never all that good at friends, but Peeta looks hopeful, which is a definite improvement from the way he looked a few minutes ago, so I sniffle and nod, and walk back a little awkwardly as he leads me back to the train.
Breakfast the next morning is a little strained, though I’m almost too tired to care. Effies chirping vapidly about etiquette that us victors are expected to follow once we’re back in the district, and encouraging me to drink the vile tasting coffee with my meal to “lift my spirits” before we arrive home. Haymitch lets out an overdramatic yawn in the middle of Effie's speech, causing her to pause and berate him for his terrible manners. This only makes Haymitch seem pleased with himself. I glance over at Peeta, who shrugs his shoulders and gives me a little smile, which I return, to my own surprise.
I think I’ll like having Peeta for a friend.