At some point during the video of the Games, I’ve curled into a ball with my head on my knees and my hands over my face. I watch through my fingers as the film unwinds. The image onscreen sickens me. The tracker jacker nest smashes to the ground, exploding open. A cloud of black comes out, looking like a singular movement, until the cloud disperses into hundreds of tiny, deadly insects. I watch as I get my first sting, and get to my feet, rushing away with Cato, Clove and Marvel. Glimmer, however, gets swarmed by the tracker jackers, stung over and over. Then, at the left of the screen, there’s a scramble, and Katniss shimmies down the tree, staggering off.

“See? Katniss did it.” I whisper.

“Hush, Peeta. We’ll talk after.”

I nod and sit quietly, watching intently until I see something that startles me.

My face, panicked. My hands, grabbing Katniss by the shoulders, telling her to run. Go. She goes, staggering away from me in a hallucinated daze. Then a cold voice comes behind me on the screen.

“Traitor.” It says, and drives a small dagger into my leg.

Cato.

That quick flick of a knife, that one exchange with Katniss; the reason I have a prosthetic leg. I must have loved her a lot, I think, as I watch her stumble around in a daze, terrified and lost. Tracker jacker poison, messing with her mind. Then she falls to her knees, and into a deep sleep.  I must really, really have loved her.

This is backed up later when she finds me, dying. She screams my name, rushing through the forest, and there’s real emotion in her voice; real panic. She tugs me to my feet, and together we stumble to the cave. I can remember that now; fever burning me, fear shaking me and Katniss…kissing me. But even I can see, in the dark of the cave, that her love looks fake, forced, and I hate her for it. She messed with my heart, and still, on the screen, my eyes burn with a fire beyond fever; love.

Then, onscreen, I talk about the first day I saw her; at school. Even in the dimming light of the cave my eyes glisten with love for my long-time crush. The adoration in my voice is undeniable. I can’t bear it.

“Stop.” I murmur, and my doctor leans forward and stops the tape.

“Well done, Peeta.” She says.

“I remember,” I whisper, my eyes on the floor.

“You remember what?” she asks, gently.

I stand up, getting to my feet suddenly.

“I’m the boy. In the rain. I’m the boy with the bread!” I exclaim.

“Peeta, I-I don’t understand.”

I look the doctor in the eye, my breath coming in gasps.

“I want to see Katniss.” I say desperately.

The morning of Finnick and Annie’s wedding is here, and there’s a knock on the door. Haymitch opens the door, to come and see me for the first time. I haven’t seen him since before the Games. He coughs as he comes in and walks cautiously over to me. He stands a few feet away from my bed.

“Hello, Peeta.” He says.

I reply with a non-committal grunt.

“How are you?” Haymitch asks.

Somehow the normality of the question makes me mad. How dare he ask me such ordinary questions when he knows everything is wrong?

“You lied to me!” I snap. “Why would you do that?”

Haymitch sighs.

“I don’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted you!” I say, angrily.

“I know, I know. I’ve heard all of this from…” he stops short.

“From Katniss?” I ask and he nods. “You can say her name. It’s okay.”

“Okay.” Haymitch says.

I sigh.

“Why did you do it?” I ask, and there’s more genuine curiosity and less anger behind the question now.

“Save her and not you?”

“Oh no,” I say. “I know why you did that.”

Haymitch looks surprised.

“You do?”

I nod.

“Because she’s the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay. She’s important, the main attraction. I’m the opening act.”

Haymitch nods.

“Charming.” I say, sarcastically. “But no, why did you lie?”

“I don’t know.” He admits. “I didn’t know how to tell you so…”

“You just…didn’t?” I finish.

“I guess, yes. I’m sorry, Peeta.”

I shrug.

“It’s okay. Kind of stupid, but it’s okay.”

Haymitch laughs.

“Where’s the charmer that I mentored?”

“Oh, that’s what you call leaving us to die?” I grin.

As he gets up to leave a while later, I call to him as he opens the door.

“Haymitch?”

He turns round, his hand on the doorknob.

“Yes?”

“Can you tell Katniss that I want to see her?”

“Sure, I will.” He says and leaves.