Ever hunting, ever haunting

My emotions

As agile and swift as the beautiful bird on my pin, my token, he pads silently towards me. Hands calming and relaxing, holding me in one piece resembling the wings, his body the strong frame and eyes, the deep roots of the soul. The heart-song that pours from his mouth every time he speaks, like the melodies repeated in perfect harmony.

Peeta the boy with the bread. Passionate and loving, willing and destined for our love. His desire for me is evidently everlasting, and in the arena his lips were not acting for the cameras. For the Capitol. For the sponsors. But for me, because he loves me.

However I was acting to stay alive, to win the games. Peeta had been severely hurt when he realised, and as haymitch so cruelly pointed out in his drunken stupor during practice for the interviews " you have about as much charm as a dead slug sweetheart." But still he is always a reliable companion, and I still don't understand my feelings for him.

Now alert, I notice he has slipped slowly into the bed with me, his warm breath Smells of cinnamon and honey. To be a saviour, he has come to talk to me - to relieve the nightmare that has nearly destroyed my being thousands of times before. Intwining our bodies he cuddles up close to me, a warm promise of safety and protection. So I let go and accept the enticing offer.

" Peeta? " I start seductively...

" Yes katniss ? " He whispers back quietly.

" How comes I can never tell when you are having a nightmare? " I ponder mysteriously. I wonder if I have stepped over the line, encroached on his privacy yet he seems eager to share his thoughts.

" I don't know really. I don't think I thrash around or cry out or anything. I just come to, paralysed in terror. " He replied.

" You should wake me. " I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.

" It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you, " He whispers. " I'm okay once that I realise you're here. "

I don't know what to say. My heart melts a little knowing he worries about me so, yet I still feel somehow guilty. Because what he did for me in the arena was a debt that I could never repay. He kept reminding me, hinting for when I should make a move. And now, chasing away the bad dreams. I find this a bad thing.

The girl on fire will never stop owing the boy with the bread. Together, we make toast and that's how it should be. But it's not, not now. Maybe in many years, but no, not now.