A/N: This is a letter that Peeta writes to Katniss a little before the 74th reaping (on the day Prim turns twelve years old) and never sends. My first Hunger Games fanfic. Enjoy!

Dear Katniss,

Your sister, Primrose, turns twelve today and I am so sorry. I heard you talking about it with her after school yesterday. Nothing I say can make it better for you. But I want to offer you two extra shares of tesserae. I'll take them and deliver them to you so Prim doesn't have to sign up for any. She's very sweet and I'll never forget when she brought back one of my family's lost pigs. It was just an ugly little pig, but to us it meant money, it mean survival. Come reaping time, I want her to stay here with you and your mother. I want her to keep caring for the sick and bringing home people's lost animals. She has an incredible gift, Katniss.

I know you probably want to do this yourself (take on more tesserae for your sister). You've always been so confident and self-sufficient, ever since we were in Kindergarten, when you volunteered to sing the Valley Song. Remember in 6th grade when the teacher reprimanded you for singing "The Hanging Tree"? I admit, the song was depressing and dark, but it must've been what you were feeling. Your voice stopped time, Katniss. It was so raw, and emotional, and powerful, even when you whispered. If I remember correctly, your father had died recently. I bet your voice has only improved, but I never hear you sing anymore. One day I hope to get up the courage to talk to you at school and ask you to sing for me. But you're always with Madge or walk briskly by, not looking at anyone. People might thing you're trying to kiss up to the mayor by being friends with his daughter, but I know that's not true. You are the most genuine and pure person I've ever known.

My family ate one of your squirrels for supper tonight. The meat was so succulent, and we used the whole thing, since the shot went clean through the eye. How you became such a skilled huntress I'll never know. Or maybe you can tell me about it sometime. Did you catch that squirrel with Gale? There's no point in asking; you two are inseparable. I doubt you ever go into the woods without each other. I see you two walking towards the Hob and look away. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that you two are friends, and I'm grateful you hunt. But I'm so jealous when I see you together. So is every single girl aged fourteen and over. They all want Gale. I want you.

You probably think people from the merchant class are well off, or at least always have enough to eat. How could a baker go hungry? You think that you couldn't possibly relate to someone like me. Katniss, you have to remember that my family runs a business, and it's our job to make food for other people (a lot of whom are Peacekeepers). Did you know one of our cakes got sent to the Capitol? For some rich girl's birthday. She probably hasn't even heard of District 12. There are days when I decorate cakes – salivating – and have but a half loaf of stale bread to eat for myself. Today would have been one of those days if not for you. You think I saved you when you were starving, but you've saved me more times. My mother thinks you're so crazy talented, she sometimes wishes for a daughter. Like you.

I wish for a daughter like you, too, Katniss: brave and smart and kind. You're probably thinking, how could I want children to live in a world like District 12? Well, I'm sure each generation thinks that, but life goes on. I'll give my children the best life I can. I better end now before I get too much ahead of myself. Who am I kidding? This letter will never reach your hands. I'll never have the guts to deliver it. I'll only send it in my dreams.

Sometimes your songs weave through my dreams. In them, I walk by you and say hello. You smile at me, a rare sight these days. You invite me into the woods with you, and show me the flora and fauna. You teach me how to hunt and how to find shelter. We make camp, start a fire, and eat. Neither one of us want to suggest leaving.

So, my offer of help will go unheard. I want to help your family, but you wouldn't accept the help. But remember this, Katniss: there's no shame in letting people help you.

I want to tell you how I feel, but I fear something more than rejection. I fear a disturbance of the natural order of things. I don't want to interrupt your routine: your life's blood. I can only hope that one day, we'll both have the courage to step off our charted paths, and meet somewhere in the middle.

All my love,

Peeta Mellark