You don't need him, of course you don't. You survived the 74th games with him; a strategy built up by mere lies. And yet, a real connection surged between both. It was hard to bear with the trauma that the games left you, but your nightmares slowly changed from the memory of that massacre to a scenario where you lost him.

4 am, such a convenient hour to wake up screaming and sweating, the image of him dying in your arms, of his body slowly changing into sand that slipped trough your fingers, everything felt too real.

Before you could even think, your legs were already moving towards his house. It's hard to distance yourself from him when you see him everywhere in your dreams.

Peeta woke up after your insatiable knock, and as soon as those blue eyes connect with yours, he knows what he has to do. No words came out of his mouth while he carried you to his couch, turning up the chimney and holding you in his arms as if he was treating with porcelain while whispering in your ear with that sweet and soothing voice "Shh, I'm here."