[Nightmares have become his constant companion, even more so than after the Games.
Peeta's sitting alone in the dark kitchen. His teeth are gritted, his eyes clouded over slightly. His fingers are gripping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles turn white. And like a wave, reality washes over him, relieving him of most of the darkness. But remnants of distortions remain. They'll always stay with him.
He doesn't really know what he's doing when he gets up. He just lets his feet take him outside. The air seems to be heavier in District 12. Just ash and smoke.
His feet lead him to Katniss' door. It felt selfish to wake her at such a late hour, especially if she was actually getting sleep.
He sits down in front of her door. He didn't feel as alone out here than he did in that big empty house.]
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Peeta's sitting alone in the dark kitchen. His teeth are gritted, his eyes clouded over slightly. His fingers are gripping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles turn white. And like a wave, reality washes over him, relieving him of most of the darkness. But remnants of distortions remain. They'll always stay with him.
He doesn't really know what he's doing when he gets up. He just lets his feet take him outside. The air seems to be heavier in District 12. Just ash and smoke.
His feet lead him to Katniss' door. It felt selfish to wake her at such a late hour, especially if she was actually getting sleep.
He sits down in front of her door. He didn't feel as alone out here than he did in that big empty house.]