Twisted Perfection ~ Everlark

Welcome back.

Katniss' PoV:

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The doors springs open to reveal a tired-looking Haymtich. His eyes have dark rims below them and his face looks swollen and puffy.

"What?" He asks, in a rather impertinent manor, which is all to familar to me by now. I wonder what Effie would do if he spoke like that to her now. She'd probably slap him.

"I came for the spare key to Peeta's house, remember?" I ask him as I step through the front door. The house is relatively tidy, with the odd item of clothing spralled out on something. The place doesn't smell very plesant though. It's not like the pungent fish in the hob, but very sultry and muggy. I guess that Haymtich likes a warm house, because it's the closest thing that can bring him warmth, in this tough period of soberity. However, I personally can't stand the feeling, and after only a few seconds of the door being shut, I feel my hair cling to the back of my neck.

"Here you go." He hands me the key. "By the way, his train arrives at 2pm, so you have 27 hours to get his things ready. If you need more time to arrange his flowers and iron his socks, then call me and I'll get something sorted out."

I give him a warm stare and roll my eyes mischievously.

"You should air the place. It's manky." I say, before walking out the door.

I stroll over to Peeta's house, punch the key into the lock and open the door.

The walls stand firm, the window frames strong, glass triple glazed and whole. All in all, it looks like a movie-set, a place waiting for life to come. The only give-away is the odour, well, that and the dust. It's musty and dry, but nothing opening the doors and windows can't solve. A spring clean, some fresh flowers, perhaps the house will enjoy the luxury of company.

I go upstairs to seek for his bedroom and find it, how I remember.
Respectably tidy with the odd drawer open from when he moved in to my house. I wish he could stay at my house. I often ask myself the same question in bed when my mind is wide awake. Why can't he just magically pop into my room with me and cuddle for the rest of the night and kiss my head when I start to sleep?

No. That's not right. I'm guessing he can't even go near a knife or a spark of electricity without flinching. Let alone sleeping in the same bed together. That's such an intimate move for us both.

~~~~~~~~~~

I walk down Peeta's stairs, after finishing his clothing arrangement, cleaning of the house and making sure everything is in its right place. It's nearly 7pm, so I start to go to the door to leave. Just as I near the door, my brain thinks of something.

I should write him a letter.

I don't think a hello in person would be the correct move right now, but perhaps some words that I would never say to him in person, because they're too cheesy, would suffice that.

So, I head to his study. After setting up his painting equipment earlier, I run my hand over one of his brushes. I close my eyes and imagine his warm and soft hand clutching the brush, applying gentle and tame strokes of paint to the canvas. His eyes zooming in on the spacing of the brush and how long the line lasts. His brows and forehead moulding into a subconscious concentrated stare at his work, before returning to the pallet for more of the same colour.

After this daze, I pick up a pen and a piece of paper and begin to write.

Dear Peeta,
I've written this letter too many times to count, only to go and crumple it up and throw it into the fire. Therefore, I've promised myself that I'll send this draft.

The last thing I'd want to do to you right now, is to lie. So, I won't. Without even guessing, I know you're journey and how many infinite battles you've put up with and how many will still lay ahead. I also know that many times a day, you will feel like giving up, but there's only one thing stopping you; me. I won't let you admit defeat because only one person would be damaged beyond repair if you gave up. Me. You need to keep going.

These past few months have been the most torturous and racking months of my life. So, therefore it's comprehensible to say that without you, I'm lost. Before I met you, Peeta Mellark, I never knew what it was like to be able to look at someone at smile for no reason. When I look at you, I see a humane, loving and pulchritudinous soul and I don't want that to ever change. I don't want the way you paint or the way you sleep to change. You may be asking, why does she not want anything to change? Maybe it's because everyone I've ever loved has left me. Nothing has ever been certain or definite.

But you didn't leave me. You came back. You came back from a place you execrate so much. Therefore, I hope you can finally find peace and comfort in your old home, here in 12. At some point, whenever you're ready, I'd love you to join me for some hunting, or even a walk in the meadow. But for the meantime, you need to rest. Please don't feel obliged to paying me or Haymitch a visit. You know you're always welcome. I've missed you Peeta.

I once told you that I needed you. That still applies now. Stay with me?

All my love and kindness for the future, Katniss, forever your friend.