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The first time you saw him after they brought him back from the Capitol, you knew something was wrong. Not the obvious things — the thinness, the shadows under his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly. No. It was his eyes.
Peeta Mellark had always looked at you like the world made sense. Now he looked at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. You stood just inside the observation room in the underground halls of District 13. Behind the glass, Peeta sat in a metal chair. Still. Watching the table in front of him like it might move.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” one of the medics asked quietly.
“I’m sure,” you said.
They hesitated. Then the door unlocked with a heavy click.
The room felt colder once you stepped inside.
Peeta’s head lifted slowly. For a moment he only stared.
You tried to smile. “Hi, Peeta.”
His brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Your heart twisted. “Why not?”
He leaned back slightly in the chair. Because of the conditioning the Capitol forced on him using the venom tied to tracker jackers, his memories and fears had been twisted. People he loved now felt dangerous. People he trusted felt like threats. “You’re part of it,” he said carefully.
“Part of what?”
“The manipulation.” The words were calm. Almost logical. Which somehow made them hurt worse.
You swallowed. “I’m your best friend, Peeta.”
He laughed softly. But there was no warmth in it. “That’s what they want me to think.”
You pulled out the chair across from him and sat down slowly. “Okay,” you said quietly. “Then ask me something.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
“If you think I’m fake,” you said, “test me.”
Silence stretched between you.
Then he leaned forward slightly. “What’s the first thing I ever baked for you?”
Your chest tightened. “Burnt cinnamon bread,” you said immediately. “You were twelve and insisted it was supposed to taste like that.” His eyes flickered. “You cried because you thought I hated it.”
Peeta blinked.
You gave a small, sad smile. “So I ate three pieces.”
For a moment, he just stared. Then the tension snapped back into place. “You could’ve been told that.”
“Peeta—”
“You could be part of the propaganda.” The words came faster now, more frantic. “They’re trying to make me trust people again.”
Your hands clenched slightly on the table. “I’m not propaganda.”
“You’re not real.” That one landed like a punch.
You forced yourself not to cry. He was still in there. You knew he was. “You used to braid my hair when I got nervous,” you said quietly. Peeta froze. “You said if my hands were busy, I wouldn’t chew my nails.” His breathing changed slightly. “And when my dad yelled,” you continued softly, “you used to sneak bread out of the bakery and sit with me by the river.”
His eyes squeezed shut for a second. “That’s not—”
“You told me once that the world felt less scary if we faced it together.”
His chair scraped suddenly as he stood up. “Stop.” His voice was sharp. Almost panicked.
You stood too. “I know you’re still in there.”
“No,” he said quickly. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are!” he snapped. His breathing was ragged now. “You’re just another trick.”
Your voice cracked slightly. “Peeta, look at me.”
He hesitated. Slowly, reluctantly, he did.
Your eyes were shining with tears.
“You used to be safe,” he whispered.
The words were barely audible.
Your heart shattered. “I’m still safe,” you said softly. “I would never hurt you.”
His hands trembled at his sides. “I don’t know that anymore.” The admission sounded terrified. Lost. Not angry. Just scared.
You stepped closer slowly. Every guard outside the room tensed. Peeta didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said.
“Even if you hate me?”
You shook your head. “Even then.”
Silence filled the room.
Finally, his voice came out hoarse. “…why?”
You reached out slowly, carefully placing your hand over his shaking one. “Because you didn’t give up on me when I needed someone.” Your fingers tightened gently. “So I’m not giving up on you.”
For a moment he didn’t react. Then his shoulders sagged slightly. And though his grip was weak and uncertain— He didn’t pull his hand away.