Under The Stars

Chapter 3

Peeta

As the hours pass by, I become more and more worried about Katniss. She refuses to eat and for the most part, she sleeps in a huddled ball. Her usual olive completion has turned to a sickly pale and her bones are clearly visible, protruding from her tiny frame. Even though I don't hear a cannon, I can't help but walk over to her every few moments to make sure she's still breathing. Even now, I feel tempted to wake her, to see if she will wake anymore, even though I know I shouldn't.

I'm interrupted from my thoughts by a clink outside. I glance back at Katniss before moving out of the shelter of the cave. Just outside the mouth I find something I had been praying for. A parachute. I gather it up and go back into the cave to find Katniss pulling herself into a sitting position.

"What's that?" she asks. I open it and frown slightly. "Is it bad?"

"No," I say. "It's just, I'd hoped that it would be something to help got rid of the infection in your leg."

"What is it?" she asks.

"Broth," I say. "Which I guess is something warm that even you would be able to keep down." She just stares at me."Katniss, you haven't eaten anything since I found you. You need to eat, to keep your strength up."

"Why do you care?" she asks. "I'm dying Peeta. Stop trying to save me. I'm not afraid to die."

"You're not going to die," I say.

"Why fight it?" she asks.

"Because as long as there's hope, I'm not letting you go," I say. She frowns before grabbing my shirt collar and pulling close to her with more strength than I thought she would still have.

"Don't you dare pretend to care!" she whispers. "I'm no fool Peeta. I'd rather die here with you watching over me than make you pretend to love me for the rest of my pathetic life."

I pull myself away from her grip and see the fragile tears running down her sunken cheeks. Her eyes are filled with pain, but its not from physical pain. I did this. Wether I wanted to or not, I hurt her a lot for not feeling the same way about her as she does about me. It's not that she's not pretty. She's beautiful actually, her dark hair framing her sharp features and her grey eyes that seem to change shades with her emotions like moving storm clouds. It's just, we hardly know anything about one another. But after what she said, about me having to pretend to love her, I realize I've done nearly nothing of the sort. We haven't earned the medicine to save Katniss' life. Not by a long shot.

"Please don't cry," I say, gently cupping her cheek. "I don't think I could stand to see you cry."

"I can cry if I want to," she says stubbornly. "You can't do anything to stop me."As she says that, something comes to mind.

"Maybe," I say, slowly leaning closer to her. "Maybe not." Then before she can say anything more, I gently press my lips to her's, catching her completely off guard. I feel her skinny arms wrap around me, not exactly wanting me to pull away. And for some reason, some part of me is not wanting to leave her lips. With some reluctance, I eventually do and I see a slight blush covering her cheeks.

"What was that for?" she asks.

"To convince you that you matter," I say, gently moving a piece of her hair away from her face. "To show you how much I care. So now," I say reaching over and grabbing the tiny steaming pot of broth, "You are going to eat this whole thing."

"And if I don't?" she asks, almost as though she's challenging me."

"Then I might just have to force feed you and I have a feeling that won't end very well for either of us," I chuckle and she takes the broth from me. She starts to shakily eat and eventually I just take over her shaky attempts to feed herself. In the end, she only eats about 3/4 of it, saying that its making her stomach feel overly full.

"I'm sorry I've been so difficult," she says as she lays back down.

"I can understand it I guess," I say. "You've never depended on anyone but yourself for five years. You probably don't like having to be taken care of."

"Just because I'm hurt doesn't mean I'm completely useless," she says. "After all, I can keep watch a little while if you want to sleep."

"I'm fine," I say although I've been awake for nearly two days strait and can't sit still without feeling exhaustion setting in. "You need rest more than I do."

"I'm always resting Peeta," she says. "But you're practically asleep on your feet. Just lie down here with me for a little while. I'll wake you if anything happens, although I don't think it will with that storm rolling in." I follow her gaze and see dark clouds moving in, showing just how right she is. Feeling defeated, I lay down beside her on the tarp. I feel her shift beside me and hear the sleeping bag unzip as she lays half of it over me. Though my back is turned to her, I feel her watching me and sleep seems to evade me.

"Katniss?" I ask her.

"Yeah?" she replies.

"You used to sing right?" I say.

"Yeah, I guess," she says. "I don't really do that anymore unless Prim has a nightmare though."

"Why not?" I ask and I hear her sigh, as though remembering something painful.

"Music left my life with my father," she says. "There isn't much reason to sing anymore."

"Could you do it now?" I ask.

"Do what?"

"Sing."

"Why?" she asks.

"Because I now that I'm here, I can't find the sleep that's been calling me," I say and she laughs before I feel her lay her chin gently on my arm.

"I guess I can think of something," she says and I feel her lean down and feather a kiss to my cheek. "Just close your eyes and don't worry about me. I can take care of both of us for the time being."

Then, like a swift, gentle river, her voice lulls me to sleep as she gently sings the kind of lullaby i wished my mother had cared enough to sing as a child and I feel like there is nothing other than me and her in this cave as sleep envelops me in its soft, protective wing.