The Epilogue - Katniss and Peeta

Mistakes.

(Harsh topics are mentioned—such as self-harm, abuse, and sa)
*Katniss's POV*

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

But I can't tell him. I can't tell him about my mistake, my mistake of letting him inside. I wish I would've just trusted my instincts. I wish he could hold me, and tell me everything is okay. But if I tell him, there's no guarantee he'll hold me.

God, it hurts so bad.

I can't complain. I did this.
It's like a battle inside my head. Fighting the urge to give in, fighting the urge to let out all of my pain onto him.

_

He leans on the doorframe with his arms crossed, and he's shaking his head in disbelief. I look down ashamed and fight the feeling to hide under the covers.
"I don't know what to even say," he mumbles quietly. I look up to find his eyes lined with tears. "I know it's not your fault, but you should've told me. I shouldn't have to find out about it on the news. You hid it from me—and that hurts worse than anything. I could have helped you, comforted you, but you refuse to acknowledge my help."

He kissed me again, and I let it happen. I knew he was there, yet I opened the door anyways. I thought maybe he changed, maybe he wanted to talk this out like Peeta had said, I thought maybe my best friend had came back. But instead, the same thing happened.

I wish I never opened that door. I wish I never let him get that close.

"I—" I pause before speaking. "I'm sorry." I say with a tear streaming down my face. "I never should've opened the door, and this is all my fault," I ramble on. His face is casted downwards and I can tell he's frustrated.

"It was still as bad as last time, Peeta." I watch as he pauses and closes his eyes for a moment and reopening them.
"He touched you again?" He asks while recrossing his arms. I nod and his face softens. "Where does it hurt?" He asks readjusting on the doorframe. I look back down and answer his question.
"It'd be easier to ask where it doesn't," I remark quietly and I hear him sigh. He walks over and sits next to me.

"I'm so sorry." He says. I shrug my shoulders as I feel a warm hand on top of my thigh. The hand brings an odd comfort to me. I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder while he paces his thumb back and forth on my thigh.
"Peeta," I start but he hushes me. He takes his other hand and grabs my chin. His thumb brushes my bottom lip while he looks at me. I look to his lips then back at him.
"Don't apologize." He says still looking at me. I nod as I lean into his lips.

We remain that way for a while. He kisses me back tentatively, but pulls away eventually. I give him a confused look as he tucks a hair behind my ear.

"You should rest, darling." He says while caressing my cheek. I reluctantly nod and he tucks me in. He kisses my forehead and shuts the light off on the way out. I watch as he leaves and I hear him go downstairs.

I sit there, staring at the ceiling, and thinking about the last few moments.

It started with him being mad at me, then I coaxed him into feeling bad for me. I just manipulated him and I feel guilty. He shouldn't have to give up his frustration to comfort me. I know he was frustrated, yet he gave that up for me.

I twist and turn until I give up. I know it's late, but I can't sleep. The guilt is consuming me. I never meant for this to happen. I didn't mean to hurt him like this.
I quickly get out of bed and hurry down the stairs. I find all the lights off except for a lamp in the living room.

"Peeta?" I say entering the living room with tears filling my eyes. He looks up from his book and gives me a small glance. "I can't sleep, I just feel so bad."
"There's nothing to feel bad about." He says quietly while looking back down at his book. I sigh and walk over to him. I sit down next to him but he doesn't look up at me.
"I know I screwed up, but I didn't mean for this to happen. I just thought maybe he had came to apologize or something." I huff trying to hold in the tear that is daring to escape. "And, I was going to tell you, but I didn't want you to worry." He flips a page of his book, not acknowledging me, and I sulk back. I stare at my hands in embarrassment from rambling, when I hear a rustle. I look over to see his book thrown across the couch as I feel warm hands around me. He pulls me close and rubs my shoulder.