I spend the next day wiping Peeta's house clean of any alcohol. He objects, but doesn't assume the acts of a whiskey crazed animal, like Haymitch does. I remember Peeta doing the same for me, before the Quarter Quell, when alcohol had become a thing of addiction. I'll admit that it helps, eases the pain. It makes you feel numb. But it won't do you any great good. I'm doing this to help him, I tell myself, as I pour the last of the fuming liquid down the sink.

"You're supposed to be the strong one." I tell him, where he sits on his couch in the living room. I leave the kitchen and cuddle up next to him. He smiles.

"Maybe I just wanted a break." He replies, in what is almost a whisper.

"No time for breaks. I'll be strong for you, if you'll be strong for me. Deal." I say with an air of finality, as if to end the topic of conversation. He just nods. I bury my head in the crook of his neck. "Have you finished your painting?" I ask against the warm skin of his neck.

"You're not supposed to know about that." He says. I know he's been trying to keep it a secret, but he's been so bad at hiding it I almost forgot.

"What else would you be doing in the study for most of the day?" The question doesn't require an answer and I don't get one.

It's snowing outside and Peeta has lit the coal fire in the middle of the living room. Today is a good day, now that Peeta has been torn from his drinking habits. Very rarely do good days occur, but today is one of them. The room is cosy and warm, the snow outside makes me appreciate it more. Peeta makes us some warm milk and spices and we curl up watching TV. There's nothing particularly interesting on, but we soon find Plutarch's new TV show Singing Stars. Some of the singers are extremely talented, others not so good, but the judges are kind to them anyway. "None of them are as good as you." Peeta says, staring at me intently. I don't say anything, I only smile. I struggle to react to compliments, Peeta knows this. "Will you sing to me?" He asks. No, I think. I don't want too. Because I know how he'll react - with intense admiration, that sort of makes me feel uncomfortable. But I do sing for him. Because I owe him this much. Because I care about him. Because his smile is my favourite thing left in the world.

Deep in the meadow under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daises guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow bring them true

Here is the place where I love you

I sing a few verses before I'm stopped by his expression. He looks at me with desire and curiosity, I've seen it in his eyes before, but this time it's so intense it makes me shiver. "I love you." He whispers. I bury my face in his chest and he holds me tight. He doesn't expect to hear it back, I know that. And I don't say it. Not because I don't love him, because I'm scared of what that means. Because falling in love truly feels like falling, and I don't know if I'll be able to dig myself back out.

****

The light falls out of the sky at a fast rate. The stars appear, the moon shines brightly, illuminating the darkness. I put out the coal fire, brush my teeth, and don my nightclothes. Peeta hovers at the doorway of my bedroom, ready to hug me goodnight. He never stays, I know why, he's too scared that he'll have a venom attack. His nightmares are worse than they used to be. Much worse than they were before his hijacking. I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, he pulls me close, his hands on the small of my back. I wish he would stay, but I'm frightened to ask for fear of rejection. He buries his head in my hair. Heat radiates from the spot where his lips brush my neck and I know that if he leaves me now perhaps I'll cry.

He lifts his hands from my back, as if to pull away. But I only tighten my hold on him.

"Katniss, are you alright?" He whispers.

"No. I won't be. Not if you leave me." I demand.

"Katniss, I can't..." He stutters, fumbling for more words.

"You can't what? I don't understand, Peeta. If you have a venom attack? Is that it? Because you know I can help you get through that, the same way you guard me from my wretched nightmares." I pull away, so that I'm staring into his eyes, insistingly. "Stay with me?" I whisper. I know, that after I've said it, he has no choice. He can only bring himself to reply one way.

"Always."

He follows me to the bed. I lift up the sheets so he can slip underneath them. When he settles, I lay my head on the same spot I alway have, where I can here the strong, steady beat of his heart. Peeta envelopes me in his arms, and for the first time in what feels like forever I finally feel safe to let myself drift to sleep.

😁😂