Twisted Perfection ~ Everlark

Running.

Katniss' PoV:
I pull away from the kiss almost seconds after, realising what I've just done. Peeta still has a smile on his face, but then he looks confused at me.

"I shouldn't have done that." I whisper, it's almost imperceptible.

I thought we were just friends.

I notice that Peeta has a line of my blood across his cheek where I must have bled when I touched his face. He looks like he's been hurt. Suddenly I am transported back to the games. I see Marvel pull the arrow out of his chest, where blood rushes out into the air. I see Rue on the ground with a blood stain on her clothing and hear the valley song I had to sing to her. I see Peeta cut up with scars and wounds on his body. But then, I see Prim. I see Prim struggling. I see the same colour of blood on the fire that killed her. Both crimson red. My breathing becomes unsteady. I can't focus on anything but those who have died or been hurt because of me. When I look at Peeta's face and that line of blood, I see my victims blood on my hands.

I've ruined everything.

To free my intense breathing, I shoot out of the door, ignoring the shouts and concerning audio that Peeta is saying.

The cold air smacks my face, as I shoot through it, trying to find pilgrimage in the woods.
As I run past Haymitchs' house, I consider drinking a bottle of white liquor with him to numb the pain. Numb the pains of life. He's probably nearly dead right now. I haven't seen him in 3 months, because every time I do, I get some dialogue about me being stupid or worthless from him.

However, numbing my pain is selfish. I would only be more of a burden to Peeta if I were an alcoholic.

I run under the fence and into the woods. It's surprisingly warmer than anywhere else right now. It's the one place where serenity is introduced to me. I remember that my bow and arrow are somewhere around here. I don't know why I feel the need to wrap my dry hands around the bow. I suppose I feel like something is hunting me down. Maybe the ghosts of those I've killed. I'm not sure.

I lift the layer of bark from underneath the rock and fix an arrow into my bow.
I find myself wandering through these woods, the sunlight from the sky stinging my eyes. Although the sunset is nearly upon me, it's so bright, but calming.

I stumble upon a lake. It's not the one I came to as a child, but similar. I decided to sit down, hoping to find some peace with a few deep inhales of fresh and crisp air. I sit on a rock that lays above the lake, so that my legs are dangling just parallel to the water. 

A deep sense of calmness overcomes me as I stare in rapture at the expanse of blue that lay before me. Rays of lights dance delicately across the water, birthed from the afternoon sun that both limit my light and make the view all the more beautiful.

I think about Peeta. If he will come to find me. He knows I find solitude in the woods. Nowhere else.

From where I sit, I have a perfect view of the sun dipping behind the crest of the mountains, sky awash and ablaze with colors found at the heart of a fire. A soft orange paints the sky. His favourite colour. Even on the thin line of death, I watch how living the sky is, how mutable and changing.

I knew who I was this morning, but I've changed a few times since then.

I hear a crack in the woods. I only turn around with an arrow hugging on my bow ready to be realised. But a figure appears. A figure that's all too recognisable. It's Peeta.

He smiles. I smile back.

He comes and sits next to me on the rock. He looks at my hand, to check it's not too bad. Then he checks my eyes. I stare into his blue orbs. He's so beautiful. I nuzzle my head into his neck. We both release a sigh of relief.

His hand gentle embraces mine. It's a soft embrace, but not too confident.

Then I hear something escape his lips.

"You love me: real or not real?" He asks.

I reply: "Real."