An Everlark One-Shots Collection

~1~

We sit shoulder to shoulder on the pea green velvet sofa in front of the crackling fireplace before us. Neither of us says a word, but to me anyway, it feels as though we don't have to. He's been here for so long that speaking doesn't seem necessary to keep each other's company. Nothing feels forced, scripted, fake. The simple presence of one another is enough for the both of us.

I focus my gaze intently on the twisting, curling flames that cast long shadows over the entire room. If it were up to me, I would have never used the fireplace again. Not after all of the destruction that fire has caused. What once seemed like a blessing, a source of heat and of life, has become tainted with memories of the lost. My sister, my father, my District were all swallowed up in seconds by the flames. I lost everything to the hot, angry fire that I was unwillingly named for. The Girl on Fire, finally extinguished. That is, until Peeta came back to District 12.

For so long, we didn't speak a word to each other. Sometimes I would pass him working outside his house on my way to the woods or to The Square, which resided just outside the Victor's Village. We would nod to each other, exchange curt and uncomfortable smiles and carry on with whatever it was that we were doing. The unbearable silence continued for months, though it felt like years. Every day dragged on for so long. I hardly slept as nightmares consumed my entire being as soon as I allowed myself to shut my eyes. Eating was out of the question. I never felt hungry anyway, and the thought of consuming food made me nauseous. How could I go on living, eating, sleeping, breathing while so many were robbed of everything far too early at my doing? How could I function when my sister didn't even get a chance to turn fourteen?

Truthfully, the only reason I'm still alive today is thanks to Greasy Sae. She would visit me twice a day, once in the morning to make sure I got out of bed and again in the evening to force me to eat something, bathe, and then get back into bed for yet another sleepless night. I never particularly minded her, or her granddaughter for the several times she came along. It was nice to have someone here, even if I really never spoke to her or followed what she told me for that matter. But every day, she continued to come back. I needed that.

After about three months, Greasy Sae missed her daily morning visit. I remember thinking that it was my fault. She had finally grown tired of me. It was as if I knew it would happen eventually. It was inevitable, and I realized that I had been testing her the entire time. I had been waiting to see how far she would take it before she lost hope. I was waiting for her to leave, just like everyone else had. I did not get out of bed that morning. Instead, I stared out the grand window at my bedside and watched the trees outside sway in the light summer breeze and the birds fly freely past the window. I remember wishing so desperately to be a real mockingjay then. If I was, I could fly far away from here. I could be free.

A little past noon, I heard the front door open downstairs and finally lulled myself to stumble out of bed. As I stepped cautiously down the stairwell, I was immediately taken aback. It was not Greasy Sae who had come to visit me today. It was Peeta. He stood before me, a basket of freshly baked rolls in hand.

"Hi, Katniss. . ." he whispered warily, as if he were afraid of me. Did I make him afraid of me? I couldn't find the words to form a decent reply, so instead I nodded and took my place perched on a chair in the living room.

Throughout that day, Peeta forced me to eat the bread and cheese he had brought with him. When I refused, he told me that I made him eat once to save his life in the first Games. He told me he remembered. He remembered that I kept him alive. And he said he was there to do the same for me. I didn't argue with him about it anymore after that.

Day after day, Peeta returned. Sometimes he'd come earlier, sometimes later, sometimes more than once. It got easier every day to be near each other. We spoke more often. We argued less. Eventually he began staying in the guest bedroom in my house for a few nights. When one of us had a nightmare, we would hold each other until we could fall asleep again and for the first time in so long I wasn't afraid to shut my eyes anymore.