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It’s been a few days since my encounter with Katniss in front of her house. The next time I see her outside, she's sitting at the crumbling entrance to Victor’s Village, staring at the gates. I’m not the hunter, but I think of Katniss like a deer I do not wish to startle. I approach slowly and wearily. She then begins to speak without looking at me.
'Of course she heard me coming', I think.
“What exactly did we win Peeta?”
I sit next to her on the ground before I reply. “Well, I like to think that we won freedom for all of Panem.” I say, halfheartedly.
“Ever the diplomat…” She scowls after the utterance.
“I’m sorry Katniss. I don’t know what the hell we’ve won. We’ve probably lost more.”
She finally turns to look at me, full of vitriol, “We sure as hell lost a lot more! I wish none of this had ever happened. Everyone that has died, it’s all my fault. If I’d never held out the nightlock, if I’d just died in that ghastly place, P-prim…” She trails off, out of breath and bursting into tears.
As I'm looking into her precious face, I notice she is about to start hyperventilating, perhaps even on edge of a panic attack. I stand and hold my arms out to welcome her into my embrace. She hesitates at first, still trying to catch her breath. Once she collapses onto my chest I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on her head.
When she stops hiccuping and gasping for breath I whisper near her ear, “Why do you speak so much when you have no grace?” I can feel the muscles on her cheekbones tense up and I know she’s smiling, even just slightly.
I don’t know exactly how long we stay like that, but I do notice the sun has slid down in the sky. We make the short trip back to her front stairs. She looks up at me and I see her eyes briefly flash darker grey before her boots become fascinating.
“Umm, would you like to come in for some tea?” She mutters softly.
“Yeah of course”, I say with a smile on my face.