*Peeta's POV*
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Willow meekly standing in the doorway. I turn my head towards her, setting my palette down, and she begins to walk in, closing the door gently behind her.
"May we talk?" She asks whilst sitting down in a chair opposite to where I'm standing, in front of a canvas.
I'm not positive on what she wants to speak about, maybe she's worried for school tomorrow, considering it will be her first day back. Although, that's out of her character—she seems to have taken on Katniss's bold characteristics.
"About what?" I ask staring at the portrait of Katniss, Rye and Willow.
I don't have a reference, I've always loved using my memory. It helps me remember all the small details of their faces, and when I think of them, I don't just see the picture in my head. I see them as a whole, personality and traits included.
"Mom," she pauses while bringing one knee close to her chest, "and you." I look over to her with a puzzled look. I don't understand, Katniss truly has been thriving since she came back. She's been happy, and I'm not sure why that's alarming to Willow. I watch as she sighs and continues on. "You can't leave her again. You weren't there to see her, and I know she told you to leave, but it was heartbreaking, Dad."
"She seemed fine when I returned," I remark, thinking back to when I came home—she was desperate for me to stay. "It was merely a night, Willow."
She looks up at me and shrugs her shoulders. "She's always upset, or crying, and frankly I can't handle all of the tears. It's ridiculous—I can't help her. She only listens to you. There's no point in trying when she just breaks down."
I try to fathom an explanation for her, because she'll never truly understand what Katniss went through. She'll never know the pain of losing a sibling, or being tossed into a bloodbath.
"You have no idea what she's gone through, Willow. I understand your frustration, but I don't want to hear you talk about your mother like that again. You and I both know how intelligent you are. So use that to your advantage and try and figure out why she might be so upset, why she might be hurting half of the time. It's not because she's dramatic, she's strong. Where do you think you got those qualities from?" I ask while picking my paintbrush back up. I brush even strokes on the painting before Willow begins to speak up again.
"I didn't mean it like that," she huffs while looking at me. I continue painting the canvas diligently, but I still give her my attention.
"What did you mean then?" I ask calmly, showing no irritation. She hesitates before deciding not to answer. I sigh and look over at her. "I don't expect you to understand her, Willow. Sometimes, I don't either. But, you have to see that she's just trying to do what's best for everyone else." I can't control what she does or thinks. It's not her fault that she's frustrated. And it's not her fault that she's unable see eye to eye with Katniss.
I watch as she nods, then slowly stands up. She makes her way towards the door and gently leaves the room. I begin to paint again, but the soft details of Willow's cheeks remind me of her innocence. She's just a child, and I'm sure it's overwhelming for her. I feel bad for what I've said, but I can't take it back. I know she'll come around eventually, she has Katniss's stubbornness after all.
_
*Katniss's POV*
I'm doing fine. I've started to actually like being alive. The coldness from Willow has somewhat, melted away. She is surprisingly going to school tomorrow after almost 3 weeks of absences. I know she enjoys being at the schoolhouse, even if it's to get away from me.
I begin to set the table by placing a bowl on each placemat, prepared for the soup Peeta has made. I haven't been able to obtain my desire for nourishment though, and I'm underweight, but things take time. Although I still feel like a burden to him, I know he has my best interest at heart and doesn't see me that way.
"Are you okay?" I hear him ask while walking past me slowly.
"I'm fine." I smile softly at him while he pours the soup into each dish. He sets the pot back onto the stove and leaves the room to call for Willow and Rye. I sit down at the table and Peeta speaks up.
"You'll be at the opening of the bakery tomorrow, right?" He asks whilst siting down next to me. I shake my head slightly and he narrows his eyes. "You're the only one I want there."
I roll my eyes sarcastically and nod my head in agreement. He smiles in a comical fashion and I laugh quietly. Rye comes running into the kitchen and slides into the chair beside me. Willow comes walking in and slumps into the seat across from Rye. Sometimes, I can't even fathom that they're siblings because they are so entirely different. I glance over at Peeta and he shrugs his shoulders.
"So," I begin trying to enlighten the mood. I look over and I see Rye scooping soup into his mouth, and I chuckle a little. "Are you excited for school tomorrow?" I ask her while she lifts the spoon to her mouth.
"I guess." She huffs while looking down. I don't understand what's wrong. She was in a neutral mood this morning, she even helped Peeta bake pastries for the opening tomorrow. Is it something I did?
Willow doesn't even eat a third of her bowl, and asks to be excused. "Are you sure?" Peeta asks gesturing to the bowl.
She nods her head and begins to leave the dining room, and starts the steps. Peeta looks to me and I move my hand in front of my bowl casually, trying to hide my non-existent hunger. I guess I'm becoming such a great role-model for her, already inspiring her to follow my actions. I watch as he shakes his head and begins to get up.
"Peeta, I—" I start to interject, but Peeta grabs all of the bowls and sets them in the sink.
"We can talk later, just go figure out what's upsetting her." He says while scrubbing leftover dishes from this morning. I reluctantly nod my head and begin to make my way upstairs.
Have I done this? Am I the reason she's acting this way?
I never meant for the way I treat myself to impact Willow's point of view. I never want her to feel the way I do—did. She's so strong, I just hope she can bring herself out of this narrow pathway.
I knock on the door of her bedroom and she allows me to come inside. I find her lying in her bed reading, and I sit on the edge of it facing her.
"I think we need to have a talk." I mention quietly. She looks up from her book with her eyebrows furrowed. "I want you to know your self-worth. You're beautiful, inside and out. You don't need to do what I know you're doing. It won't get you anywhere, trust me."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she remarks and looks back down to her book. I sigh and look down to my hands.
"You need to eat," I say with a tone, "you can't be like me—I won't allow it."
She sets a bookmark on the page she's open to and closes the book gently. "I'm not hungry tonight, that's all. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish my book." She says, looking at me. I narrow my eyes and begin to get up, pausing once I reach the door.
"Dad is constantly worrying about me," I say quietly, "don't give him another reason to be concerned."
I close the door and prepare for the talk I dread downstairs. I don't know how to tell him about my lacking hunger, because I don't even know why I'm not hungry myself. I feel as if I could never eat again and be fine. Of course, that's not reality, and I know that. But at least I'm trying.
I find Peeta in the kitchen and he remains in the same place as he was before. He turns to acknowledge me as I begin drying some of the freshly cleaned dishes. He doesn't say anything and I narrow my eyes slightly in confusion.
"Just get it over with." I say while placing a cup in the cupboard. He gives me a puzzled look and I roll my eyes. "I know you're mad at me."
"I'm not mad, darling," he says while washing his hands, "I'm worried."
I don't want him worrying. I'm fine, I really am. I just don't know how to explain it to him. I disappoint him so much already, I just wanted to meet his standards for once.
"I'm doing fine, Peeta." I say while walking towards him. I embrace him and he gently wraps his arms tightly around me as well. "Believe me, if I wasn't I would've told you." I whisper into his chest. He holds me there with his face buried in my neck.
"I need you to be okay." He says to me. I nod slightly while trying to match my breathing to his. It goes in and out, at a steady pace. It calms me knowing the beat of his heart is stable. "You're the only thing keeping me here."
"I'm okay." I reassure him while taking a deep breathe. I try to change the subject, because I don't want him to continue to worry. "Do you really need me there tomorrow?" I ask while pulling away to look into his eyes. He nods his head and I huff.
I don't think it's a good idea. It's practically bait, me being there when anyone can walk in—including Gale. I don't want to ruin the opening, his reputation. What if Gale tries to find me? What if he causes a scene at the bakery?
"Peeta," I start while shaking my head.
"Please, Katniss. I want you to be there for me, I need a familiar face." He begs while looking at me.
I know he'd do anything for me. I know he cares about me more than anyone else. But I just don't want to be responsible for ruining the day. Although, it feels as if I have no real choice. The bakery could bring back so many memories of his, good and bad ones. I should be there, but it seems so difficult.
I nod my head and lean into his lips. He kisses back tentatively at first but eventually deepens the kiss. His hands find my neck and he lightly brushes my skin.
As the moon sets high in the sky, and our bodies become one, there is peace formed. There is hope, that one day everything will resort to normal. That one day, we will be able to live our lives with comfort and freedom. Yet, even with all of the desire for everything to be okay, it isn't. It never will be. We need to learn to be okay with our misfortunes and disinheritances.
In between those hardships, there is fragility and uncertainty. Nothing will ever be set in stone, I've learned that. But that can't prevent you from living a full life. I've faced many battles, some leaving me with scars and memories I'll never be able to erase. But I can chose to focus on the good. I can chose to focus on the prosperity I've been given. Because some people merely receive any hope. And I don't want to take things for granted ever again, because they can slowly slip away. And with a blink of an eye, they can be gone.
_
I wake up to beams of the sun peeking through the curtains. I slowly roll over towards Peeta, who's already awake. I smile softly at him and he pulls me towards him. I rest my head on his chest and I feel him begin to fumble with my hair—our typical routine.
"Do you have to leave soon?" I ask quietly while looking down at my hands. I'm so worried about going with him. I feel like anything that could go wrong will automatically be my fault.
"In a while. I'll probably head there when Willow goes to school." He mentions. I nod my head slightly while sighing. "Is something wrong, darling?"
"I'm fine." I lie while sitting up to look at him. "I'm going to go wake Willow and Rye." His eyes search my face but eventually let go. I smile reassuringly but he gives me a look as he stands up. I walk towards the door and gently close it behind me as I move into the hallway.
I don't want to be the one to ruin this great opportunity for him. This is his livelihood. What if I screw up the one thing he has left? There's so many possibilities, and none of them seem to have a positive outcome if I was go. Maybe he'll give in to my fear, allowing me to stay home with Rye. Or just simply not go.
I knock on Willow's door before entering hesitantly. I crack the door and find her to still be asleep. She has a book laid across her stomach and she has her clothes from yesterday still on. I chuckle slightly as I begin to walk towards her. I pick the book up and rub her shoulder lightly. Her blue eyes flicker open and she sits upright.
"Is it morning?" She asks while looking outside.
"Yes," I mention while closing the open drawers of her dressers. I pick up a few garments off the floor and set them in a laundry basket. "Today's your first day back to school."
"Oh," she remarks while looking down. "I was rethinking that." I give her a sympathetic look but eventually shake my head.
"You'll be okay. Everybody probably misses you."
"What if everyone hates me now?" She asks while getting up. I shrug my shoulders and turn to face her.
"That would never happen. But if it did, we're always going to love you regardless." I watch as she nods and begins to get ready for school.
As I leave the room I quickly pick up a pair of pants form the floor, but it catches on something. I look back to see an untouched plate of food, and it appears to be preserved just as it was when it was plated. I stare at it as the guilt floods in. I'm the reason she feels like this. I'm the reason she won't eat. I'm the reason she's feeling out of place. I leave the room without looking back and my heart begins to ache.
I don't want her to feel like this. She is basically an identical replica of Peeta, nobody could ever hate her. But I understand the feelings she possesses. Being worried like that, it doesn't go away. That feeling is always going to remain, even if there's a hundred different reasons for it to be okay.
I walk through the door to find Peeta standing by the dresser. I run towards him and wrap my arms around him, bringing my face to his chest.
"Darling," he starts but I cut him off.
"Please, just stay with me."
"Always." He remarks while sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me into him.
I can feel tears lining my eyes, but I refuse to let them out. I close my eyes and focus on Peeta. His arms around me, the warmth of his body, the scent of him. It seems as if whenever I'm around him, everything bad is somewhat hidden from me. Like nothing could ever harm me within the walls of his arms. It's a safety net, that seems to catch me whenever I slip.
"I've ruined everything." I begin as my voice shakes. His hand moves up my back and starts to circle gently. He lets the circle go around twice before speaking.
"What happened?" He asks patiently. I shrug my shoulders and he takes that as an answer. His arms don't let go, keeping the firmness steady as they were when they first wrapped around me. I finally manage to peel my face away from his chest to look up at him.
I know he has to go. I know I'm probably making him run late. Speaking of which, I'm running late as well. I need to pull myself together and quit this pitying.
"I'm sorry." I say while backing out of his arms. "I'm fine, let's just get going—"
"Katniss," he says while looking at me. "I don't care about the bakery, you're the only thing that matters right now. Something's upsetting you and I have all the time in the world."
I can feel my eyes fill with water. The tears want so desperately to stream down my face. But I won't allow them to. I need regain my composure and put a smile on my face.
"I'm okay now." I say while turning around towards the door.
I quickly walk out of the door and to Rye's room. I avoid looking back because I know if I see his face, I'll break down. I take a deep breath before entering his room. I walk towards his bed and I brush his curly blonde waves off his face.
"Rye," I begin softly, "we have to get going." His green eyes meet mine and I smile at him, holding in my tears. He immediately sits up and plasters the biggest smile on his face. I can't help but laugh a little, and I walk towards his dresser. I pull out some clothes for him to wear and I begin to help him dress. "You look very handsome." I mention while running my hand through his hair.
"Like dad?" He asks while pointing into the mirror across from him. I nod my head while smiling and stand up. I take his hand and begin to walk out of the room.
"Go find Willow downstairs, I'll be there in a moment." I say. He nods his head and begins to move down the stairs.
I'm scared to walk back into the bedroom. If Peeta's still in there, I know he's going to make me tell him what's wrong. But I don't want to, I don't want to ruin his day.
I hesitate before opening the door. Luckily, I find it empty. I sigh of relief as I get ready for the day.
The mirror displays someone happy yet sad. Someone who is happy to be alive, but depressed at the same time. There's no way to win. I could eat anything and everything, yet it wouldn't make me look or feel better. It wouldn't bring my face back to life, it wouldn't restore these tired eyes. There's no fixing what has happened and there's no solution to me.