Twisted Perfection ~ Everlark

Loneliness.

This chapter is very long! 1,800 words to be exact!

Katniss' PoV:
I sit in my chair, looking the same. I'm just looking for shelter from the cold and pain. Echos and silence. Patience and grace. All of our moments that I'll never replace.

The thought of Peeta makes me cry, that's how much I miss him. If I stop to dwell for even a fraction of a second my face is wet with tears. They roll silently into my cracked lips, salty and cold. My throat becomes sore as I try not to weep or cry out from my tears.

Why did he have to leave? My father left. My mother left. My sister left. My ally left. My best friends left. My Peeta left. Is it me? Am I the reason people always leave? But when I feel lonely, it's not the feeling of being alone, it's the feeling that no one cares.

I stare into the fire I have lit. If he can't give my warmth right now, maybe a fire can. But it doesn't. It just illuminates the room.

Everyday gets harder and harder. My head is currently a horrible place to be. Sometimes the worst place to be is inside my own head. It's been 2 months since Peeta left for the Capitol. I can talk normally now, but I hardly ever do. I'll talk to myself now and again and occasionally Buttercup, just to hear my voice, but I miss his. I miss his grumpy morning voice or his voice after he's put too many bites of cheese buns in his mouth. I miss his delicate snores at night and his singing in the light. But most of all, I miss him. I miss his entire being. It's quite pathetic really, but only now my when naive nature becomes defeated, I realise how pathetic I'm being. But I don't care.

And although it's hard, I still have feelings for him. No matter how many times I tell myself that I'm better off without him or more to the point, that he's better off without me, a part of me just won't let go. That's when my stubborn streak annoys me.

It's 4:00am. The sun will appear soon. Just another day when I feel lonely and miserable. I decide to get ready to go on an early morning hunt. I'm not going back to sleep. It will only result in another nightmare. I don't have an strength left to fight them. And I don't have any way of recovering after it anymore. I don't have his strong arms wrapped around me. I've been sitting in this position, knees to chest, for what seems like hours.

I trail my frail body upstairs and run a warm shower. I haven't had a shower in a few days. I can't be bothered to move. I just want to sleep all day. But I need to move. I undress myself and step in.

The water pours down, it drips by my side, as my mind fades into dullness and everything is a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calms me; it takes my mind of things. All the things I honestly don't care about. It's the water. My mind swirls, and it's like I'm standing under an everlasting waterfall. Ever so beautiful, but it can never last, I know that now. It makes me feel a lot better. I still feel miserable and desperate for his touch and smell, but it loosens the horrible feeling; for now.

Why didn't I do this sooner? I think.

I step out the shower and see that the sun has begun to cast rays onto the door opposite me. I must have been in the shower for at least an hour. The sunrises at 5am usually.

I slip a towel over my body and head to my room. I wear a green lose top and some comfy black leggings. My hair is modelling it's usual look with my side braid from the shower, so I release it to reveal long and soft waves that sit above my belly button. I never wear my hair down. It reminds me of when I would sit patiently as a young child waiting for my mother to calmly braid my hair. Before she started to weave the pieces of hair in and out of each other, she would always admire my curls saying, 'you're hair is so beautiful Katniss. You should wear it down more often.' But I'd always reject the offer and prefer a braid on my head anyway. The mention of my mother directs my memory back to the last time I saw Peeta: