We protect each other, That's just something you and I do

Chapter 13

Katniss's POV.
I stare at the sleeping Peeta, who is stood beside me, holding me close. The room is fresh, because Peeta opens the window before going to sleep. Sonething he always did. The fact that Peeta still hasn't changed some of his old habbits helps me feel that Peeta didn't change at all. But that's wrong. he changed, a lot. He doesn't have the same steadiness he used to, he looses himself easily and is not the same stable person he was. Not to talk about the way his eyes used to shine before, giving him a boy-ish look. Now he looks much older than he used to, cortesy of many sleepless nights, his days in Games and the torture Snow put him through. It specially hurts me when I find him struggling with finding and labeling a memory as real or not.
The moonlight that passes through the window allows me to see Peeta's features. His hair, messily falling down his forehead, his slightly open mouth, his nose, wrinkling a little for no apparent reason.
It astonishes me how close we've got the past few months. I never expected to be able to share my nights with Peeta ever again, and though he said this is one time exception, I know he will agree to stay with me more nights and cast my nightmares away, if I ask him to.
I brush a few strans of Peeta's ashy blond hair away from his forehead, and softly caress his cheek, only because I felt like it. I would have done this gesture to him earlier but I was scared it would be awkward for both.
I look at the clock in my bendisse table, 2 a.m. A sight escapes my lips. It's still to early to get up, I could still sleep a little more. I decide to go get myself a glass of water.
I softly untangle myself from Peeta's comforting arms and tiptoe downstairs, worried I wake him up. I enter the kitchen and pout myself a glass of fresh water, drinking it all at once.
After that I go back upstairs to the bedroom, only to have to witness Peeta having a nightmare. That's something I've never seen, and if I did I never noticed. I remember Peeta saying that he didn't move a lot when having a nightmare, but that was before the Quell, before Peeta was tortured and hijacked. I have never spent a night with Peeta since, saw I never knew how is nightmares really were. Until now.
I'm frozen as I watch Peeta pulling at his hair or nailing face, when sleeping. I hear him muttering words under his breath. I can't make out most of them, thought I can make out a few words like real, mutt, and Katniss.
I should wake him up, finish his torture, but instead I am petrefied, staring at his misery, while tears are welling up my eyes, and concern is filling my expression.
Sweat is dripping down Peeta's forehead as he starts tossing and turning, his voice getting louder by the minute. Now I can make out what he is exactly saying "Run, I can't hurt you!" He whispers/shouts. Urgency filling his voice.
I take one step closer to him.
He stays silent for a few moments, his eyes sealed shut and his jaw clenched, when his buttom lip starts quieviering and sobbing in his sleep. Although it is dark I can see he is crying.
This time I walk up to him and kneal beside him. I wipe a few tears that were rolling down his cheeks.
He keeps mumbling stuff to himself like "I'm sorry." and "Don't leave.".
I hate seeing Peeta this broken, it brames me to, because I feel it is my fault he is in this state. I try to convincente myself otherwise, but it does not always work.
I stroke his hair and coo soothing words to his hear, trying to calm him down or wake him up. Nobe of those happen.
"Peeta, wake up." I say, starting to get alarmed he isn't going to wake up. I don't know when, I remember Peeta sometimes mentioning me that if he had a serious nightmare and didn't wake up fast, that could damage his memorie or something along those lines. I don't remember that conversation very well, since I tries to time it out, because it was to hard to know the struggles Peeta wa going through. I know that it is extremily selfish, since Peeta puts up with me always that I break down crying because of Prim, or some other thing.
I start shaking Peeta violently once I realidade coachimg him awake smoothly wasn't going to work.
"Peeta, wake up!" I say louder than before.
He finally wakes up, and sits up, his eyes wide open, looking around.
I rest my hand on his shoulder and he jumps up in suprisse before turning towards me and his expression softening.
He is hiperventilating, and starts taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.
I get closer to him, still stronking his hair.
"Are you okay? Whats going on?" Peeta asks panicking.
"Yeah, We're alright. Calm down. Everything's okay." I say softly, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He keeps taking sharpy breaths, picking at his nails.
"It was just a nightmare, ir was not real." I say.
This relaxes Peeta somehow, since he means back and starts repeating to himself Not Real over and over.
I stand beside him drawing circules in his back, resting my head in his shoulder.
"Can we play Real or Not Real?" Peeta asks.
That's the old trick. We play it when Peeta is confused or is having problems sorting out his memories, which is very often.
"Okay." I say. "Start."
"I hurt you right now, real or not real?" He asks.
"Not real, you were having a nightmare." I answer steadily. when Peeta's confused you have to be very steady so that he understands and believed your words.
"But I hurt you before, real or not real?"
"Not real, it wasn't you. it was Snow, you didn't know what you were doing"
"But I did. Those were my hands around your neck, mine, not Snow's." Peeta says getting angry. I decide not to argue with him because he is very unstabble and it is barely impossible to win a fight with him like this. He gets even more stubborn than Me.
"Next question." I say.
"Okay." he pauses to think what he is going to say. "I'm a mutt, real or not real?" I feel as if my heart stopped, as if I'm crashed. How could he say that about himself? Is this what is always on his mind when he spaces out? Is this why he always looks so empty, even when he smiles? What if he is having a relapse, what if he falls back in depression because of this.
"Not real, and don't ever say that again about yourself." I say, loudering my tone.
"But I am. That's what they did. They turned me into something I was not, now you're constantly in danger I hurt, and I'm constantly scared I'll loose you because of that." he answers back. We are basically having a fight.
I rest my hands on his shoulders and force him to look straight at my eyes, so that he knows I'm saying the truth
"You are not a mutt. Your a couragious man that has been through so much, lost so much but still stays strong. For me. Please keep staying strong forcem because right now you're my shelter, my rock, and I could not live without you, without your smile, your laugh, your voice. Peeta Mellark, I need you. Please understand that." By the end of my special I'm already crying, this was really not me. I'm not good with words, like Peeta is, but this seems to have been enough to convinde him.
That's when Peeta leans in, his eyes darting beetween my eyes and my lips. I lean in too, staring at Peeta's soft warm lips. Our lips crash and start moving in. Sync, as if they were made for each other. My hands cup Peeta's cheeks, as his own are pulling a few strands of my hair behind my hear.
I didn't want to let go, and certainly wouldn't, until we both had to pull off for air.
That's when Peeta asks me:
"Do you love me, real or not real?"
And I say "Real."