Okay, this starts off the day before the Quell starts. That'll be obvious a few pages in.

It's dedicated to my beautiful friends: Kasey, Addie, Hannah and Haleigh. You all were so wonderful letting me pester you until everything was perfect, and I send out a personal apology for the awkwardness in some of the conversations that had been held.

Thanks to all of my beautiful readers, and here is my story! Please enjoy!

The song for it is "Invincible" by Muse.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Suzanne Collins does. Duh. (:

oOo

It was not a good day so far. Dinner was a disaster. Haymitch got into his emergency supply of alcohol and began yelling at everyone within yelling distance. Sadly, that included me as well, so I ended up stomping out of the room we were eating in, grumbling offensive names at my mentor. It was only when I got to my room I realized Peeta was following me. As always, he did his thing where he asked if I was alright, and then held me for a minute. I asked him for a few minutes to myself, and that's where I stayed.

The pillow seam was making imprints in my cheek, I knew it, but I still didn't move. The covers were tangled around my knees, but thank goodness I had the presence of mind to put on clothes after my shower. Lately I'd been taking to the habit of sleeping nude whenever I went to bed upset (the times I didn't, Peeta was with me), which was probably not a good habit to keep. Underwear is a necessity, definitely.

A knock on the door rose me from my thoughts. I didn't answer, assuming whoever it was would just go away if they thought I was asleep. They knocked again. Did I lock the door?

My question was answered a few seconds later, when a slight rattle of the doorknob and swish of the door as it swung slowly on its hinges sounded from behind me. I sat up to thrown something at my intruder, but stopped.

"Can I come in?" Peeta asked, cocking his head so where blond strips of his hair fell in front of his eyes.

I wiped my eyes with a hand and just looked at him, trying to keep the misery from my face. Of course, he took that as a "yes" and walked in, carefully closing the door behind him. Before walking over to my bed, he paused, taking in the picture of my nightgown draped loosely on my shoulders and chest, exposing more bare skin than I usually do. If I wasn't already blushing from the longing look in his eyes as he stared at my body, I was when he came over to touch my hair.

I never knew what to do when he was like this. He was like this just about every day, but I'll never get use to his love for me. When he stares at me, whether directly or through the corner of his eye, I get this guilty feeling like…he shouldn't be staring at me. I'm not worthy of any kind of affection he has to offer, because I can't offer any real affection back. At times I try, if only for his sake. If he kisses me on the cheek, I catch his eye and smile. If he takes my hand I squeeze it. If he kisses me, I kiss him back, but the kisses were the most confusing.

We haven't had a real kiss in ages. The strangest thing was…I missed it. I missed his real kisses. If there was a moment when there were no cameras and he kissed me, I knew I'd kiss back. But why? Why? I didn't understand my feelings for him any more than he did.

"Are you okay, Katniss?" Peeta sat on the bed next to me, not touching me again. "You seemed really upset when you left the dining room."

"I'm fine," I found myself telling him, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know why I was so upset. Haymitch is drunk every day. I don't know why I chose this particular one to go off about it."

"There's a lot of stress, I don't think anyone blames you for being upset." He cocked his head again and gently tucks a bit of my hair behind my ear, a display of warmth I couldn't help but feel even guiltier about. "We go into the arena tomorrow."

My head ducks and I swallow, starting to wring my hands on my lap.

"Katniss?"

I still don't turn to look at him, feeling my eyes beginning to sting.

"Hey," Peeta's voice was gentle and quiet, and he puts his finger on the other side of my chin to turn my head to face him. "What's the matter?"

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and blinked away hot tears. "What do you think? The Quell is tomorrow. I don't know if I'll ever get to see my mother again. Or Prim or Gale or… I don't even know if I'll ever get to go home again."

"Don't worry…" He wraps his arms around me, a familiar move that I welcome, snuggling into his chest and burying my eyes away from the terrors of the world in his chest. "I'll make sure you get to see them again. There's no way I'm letting you die. I promise, okay?"

He doesn't get it. I felt saltwater touch my cheeks and I sniffed them up. Unable to answer Peeta with my voice, I just nodded.

After a few minutes of holding me tightly, Peeta loosened the covers around my waist and pulled them up to my shoulders, laying me down on the pillows. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been tucked in, but I didn't mind. I let him stretch out on top of the blankets next to me and rest his face on my hair.

"Hey, Peeta?" I said quietly, rubbing away another stray tear.

"Hm?"

"What are we going to do during the Quell?" I strained my neck upwards to look at him. "How are we going to…?" I stopped talking and sighed, unable to find words to finish the sentence.

Peeta's expression was sad, and he touched my cheek. "What we've been doing since the first Games. Pretend."

"But I don't want to pretend anymore," I argued, sitting up. The nightdress' neckline, being very large and unrestricting, slid down past one of my shoulders and I tugged it back up in annoyance. "I'm tired of pretending for the invisible cameras, it feels dirty and wrong and… I can't base my life on pretending. I'm sick of it. I've done it enough."

From sad to upset Peeta's look changed, and he sat up with me. "You've been doing that for a year. If you stopped pretending during the Quell who knows what would happen. But you suddenly 'falling out of love with me' would not fly very well with everyone."

"Who says if I stopped pretending I wouldn't be in love with you?" I snapped, balling up my fists.

He raised an eyebrow, suddenly confused. "…You did, Katniss. You say. You have been." Now the depression was more evident than ever, and he wrapped his arms around his knees, not looking at me.

Now it came to the real question. I've tried to face it for months, but to no avail. Would my feelings be real if I accept them? I didn't know the answer. I didn't know what to say to him. The truth is always best, but I didn't even know that.

"So what do you feel?" Peeta turned his head slightly to glance at me. His expression was of sorrow.

My throat clogged up. "…I don't know. I don't know what it is I feel."

He stood up and began to leave.

"Peeta!" I jumped up and ran after him, yanking him to a stop by his arm. When he froze to look at me with such a heartbroken gaze I was rendered unable to speak. I opened my mouth but nothing came out but a puff of air. How come it was so hard to tell him? How come it was so hard to know what to tell him?

He wouldn't let me look away from him; his slate-blue eyes bored into mine with such ferocity I barely recognized him. It was a look I did not receive often from him.

"Tell me, Katniss," His voice, unlike his face, was soft and pleading, "why I have to stay here. What am I staying for? Am I staying for a girl who loves me or am I staying to please an audience? Am I staying because you want me to or because they want me to?"

Little tears were pricking my eyes, and I had to fight to keep them away. "I want you to stay," I whispered, barely audible.

His eyes were starting to tremble, too, and Peeta reached up to put his hands gently on each of my cheeks. "But why?"

Because I love you. The words couldn't come out. They came out as more puffs of air. What the hell are you waiting for, Katniss? What AM I waiting for? This is as much of an invitation I'll ever get.

I took a deep breath and bit my lip, cautiously sliding my hands up to rest on his collarbone. "Because…"

A thunderous, masculine pounding on the door broke me away from my courage and I made a small noise from my throat while backing away from Peeta.

"Dammit," Peeta hissed, letting out an aggravated sigh.

"Are you in there, Katniss?" Haymitch's loud, drunken voice comes from the other side of the door.

As quietly as I could, I snuck over to the door and locked it.

"Come on, sweetheart, I didn't mean it."

I let out an inaudible sigh and went back over to Peeta. There was no way I was talking to Haymitch just then, especially when he was drunk. And after what he said to me at dinner, I really wasn't going to talk to him.

Thankfully, after a few minutes, everything outside in the hallway was silent again. Whatever guts I'd gathered for telling Peeta what I was about to vanished, and it was obvious that he knew it. Though he saw my reluctance, he quit his previous offended display and offered both of his arms out to me.

When I folded myself up against Peeta's chest, I felt his breath on my temple.

"Why do you want me to stay?" he whispered, and I could feel his fingers curl around my hips.

I shuddered at the intimacy. Things between us have never been too serious, minus kisses in the cave and mushy words exchanged in front of cameras and the lies proposed to the Capitol. There was nothing too 'private' and 'friendly' between us. This was new and alien and…I liked it. I couldn't help it. Part of me felt ashamed. Embarrassed. But I wanted to like it. I liked liking it.

Swallowing fear, I bent up onto my tiptoes and put my lips to his ear. "…Because I love you."

It was Peeta's turn to shudder. His hands tightened on my waist. "Honestly?"

I nodded. "…If-if this is the last night we have before the Games, the last night with no cameras watching us, I needed to tell you."

"But is this…" He looked in awe, but also frightened a little, as was I. "…Are you just saying that to shut me up for a few days? Are you actually sure? Are you telling me the truth?"

"I promise, Peeta." Guilt rose up in my throat like bile and it was impossible not to feel the self-hatred spike me in the heart. "I'm sorry I've been so mean to you. You don't deserve it, and up until just recently, I didn't realized what I had. I do love you. And I'm sorry it took me so long to get it out."

I was again unable to look him in the eyes. "I…I love you. I love you." It rolled off of my tongue and repeated itself just for the sake of repetition. "I love you, Peeta."

Apparently, I didn't need to look into his eyes. He let me face away from him as he leaned forward to whisper to me again. "…Prove it."

Maybe in other circumstances I would have been uncomfortable and stepped away from him. Right then I was just frozen, frozen with the feel of Peeta's hands on me. Without really thinking much about it—or maybe I DID think about it, but I was thinking about how I didn't want Peeta to say anything to me. I turned around and kissed him. It could have been expected, but the gasp that bubbled from Peeta's mouth tickled my lips and tasted like berries. My hands involuntarily gripped his shoulders for support, and it was a lot more intense than just a kiss. I could feel his fingers clenching at my hips, pulling me tight to him.

Bruises would surely form where he was holding me now; my hips and our mouths which were locked with a passion I'd never known before. It was so strange kissing without cameras, but part of me wanted it more than anything. I didn't have to worry about doing anything right. Surely Peeta wouldn't mind if I messed up on something. We were both still new at this. New, but no more real than anyone else.

"Peeta," I said between kisses. He had one of his hands behind my head, now, and the other remained on my hip.

Peeta pulled away a little to look into my eyes, and I saw that they were bluer than a midday sky and happier than I had seen them in a long time. He said what I was about to. "I love you."

I stretched up to put both of my arms around his neck and kissed him again, tasting the sugar of his happiness.

Would this end, I hoped not. My heart soared like a bird every time he touched me. He was gentle at first, caressing my face and shoulders and stomach. I let him do what he pleased; it pleased me, too. But when he set me onto the bed and began to crawl on top of me, I had to stop him, out of instinct if nothing else.

"Peeta," I panted, putting two of my fingers to his lips where they were roaming down my bare collarbone.

He immediately froze and slid off of me, beginning to stammer out apologies. I could feel his hands trembling as they removed themselves from my waist. His face obviously painted with upset and was cursing inside his head. Peeta rolled onto his side and sat up, a hand halfway extended towards me in apology.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean—" he began, looking genuinely frightened, but I cut him off.

"Peeta, just stop." I caught his hand and attempted to stop its shaking. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He was breathing heavily (as was I, but I wasn't sure why he was). "I'm sorry, I got carried away, I won't—"

"I said stop." My words were harsh, and we were able to catch our breath at the moment when I startled us both into silence.

When Peeta's face lost some of its self-loathing, I put his hand on my cheek. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just…can't."

"I-I know that," Peeta scowled at his other hand. "I'm sorry. I got carried away."

"So did I." I lowered his hand and gently put my arms back around his shoulders, just to hold my face to his throat and breathe. "I want to. But I can't, you know I can't. There's no way to protect us right now, and I can't afford to be carrying something besides a heavy heart right now."

Peeta looked absolutely wretched, and wouldn't respond to anything I did. "…We won't ever, will we?"

"Peeta…" I sighed. "We're in the middle of the rebellion, about to go into an arena for the second time. That is the last thing I'm thinking about."

"If this really is the last private moment we get together…" Peeta cups my head with his hand and presses our cheeks lightly together. I could feel his eyelashes tickle the skin of my temple, and he gently kisses the line of my jaw. "And if we're going to die, I want to die knowing that there was at least one moment in my life when I was allowed to completely love you."

More guilt crept into my mouth and I let it out in a silent groan. "Peeta…"

"Shh…" He wraps his arms around me and cradles me against him, not with passion but with friendship and worry and fear. "If you don't want it, that's fine. I'm not going to push you. You know I'd never do that."

At that point I start crying. Not loud or wet sobs, but sobs still, and I bury my face in Peeta's clean-smelling chest in a worthless attempt to block the pain. There were so many things that was wrong, I couldn't pin one thing I was crying about.

"I hate you," I sobbed into his chest while pressing him tighter.

I could feel the confusion in his hold now. "Ka—?"

"I hate you for being so selfless and letting me get my way all the time." I sniffed, and buried my face in his neck again. "You never get what you want…"

"Don't do it just for me. I'd rather not do it all that do it just for me." Peeta petted my hair, though his touch was less yearning than it was before. "Please don't cry."

Swallowing, I slipped away from Peeta's arms and pull the nightdress back over my shoulders again. "Never mind, Peeta." Avoiding his gaze, I slipped under the covers and laid there, facing him. "Are you staying?"

Peeta turned around and gave me a slightly sad, raised-eyebrows look. "Do you want me to stay?"

This surprised me. "Of course I do."

He looked contemplative for a minute before smiling a crooked, gloomy smile and, after taking his shoes off, slid into the bed next to me. I welcomed his arms graciously and huddled close to him, not caring about the fact that in the morning, we were most likely going to be found out. I could feel Peeta tighten his arms around me and his breath tickling my hair as he breathed.

Peeta's so…perfect. I know that sounds cheesy and unlike me, but I think about myself and the predicament I'm in, and I think about Peeta. About all he's sacrificed for me and my family. He has his days, but everyone does. The fact that he's willing to die for me or anyone in my family, endure my constant unpleasantness, never get his way, and still love me. Maybe he's not perfect, but he's a gift and a blessing and he deserves so much better than I can give. Though he deserves better, he still wants me, so…

So I guess it's up to me to make sure he gets better than what I've been giving him. As long as he's happy, I'm happy. I'm going to die anyways. It's not like it would make a difference in the long run.

Opening my eyes and turning around to face Peeta, I found him with his eyes open as well. He was staring off at the wall with a blank expression on, but when I shifted around to look at him, he snapped out of it and gazed down at me with adoration.

"Are you okay?" He gently touched my cheek with his thumb, while still cradling me with his other arm.

I nod, freeing my hands from my sides to fiddle with the buttons on Peeta's shirt, not to undo them but to have something else to look at other than his sweet, concerned expression.

Peeta presses his lips to the corner of my mouth, making me shiver. "Is anything the matter?"

For a minute or so I didn't say anything. I was relaxed against his chest and gazing up at him with a deliberate look in my eyes. "You really want to, don't you, Peeta?"

He smiled sadly and looked away. "Of course. But that doesn't change anything."

"You really, really want to?"

"Katniss," Peeta unwound his arms to cup my face softly, running the tips of his fingers on my cheekbone and jaw and lips. "I always have. From the moment we officially met. But—"

"Then let's do it." When I curl my hands around his neck, I could feel the sudden throb of his heart. Not only that, but his face froze, somewhere between a look of astonishment and excitement and frustration.

"No, Katniss." He was careful removing me from around his neck and scooted a few inches away to the other side of the bed.

"But I want to." I didn't know what I wanted. Maybe it was this. I hoped.

"No." Scowling slightly, Peeta rolled over onto his other side.

It wasn't really in me to give up so easily, especially when it meant going to sleep upset—and it was the last night we're spending together before the Quell.

Moving closer to Peeta, I put both my hands on his shoulder blades and nuzzled my face into the back of his neck. "Peeta…" I whispered. "I love you."

Instead of ignoring me—like I had the suspicion he would—Peeta let out a frustrated sigh and rolled back onto his other side, suddenly wrapping me up in his arms with an embrace that momentarily stunned me.

"Why do you do this to me?" he hissed in my ear, voice soft and agonizing like the voice of a heartbroken man. "I love you so much, why do you choose now to tell me when it's our last night together?"

Unable to come up with an answer for that, I just shrugged in his arms.

"You know it's just going to be harder now, right?"

"Yes, I know that," I told him after a pause.

Peeta exhaled noisily for the millionth time, letting it out down my back. "… Why didn't you just go on letting me think you were pretending? It would have made this easier for me, thinking that it wouldn't hurt you if I died. Why didn't you?"

Honesty made tears slip through my eyelashes but I didn't reach up to wipe them away. "Because I don't think I can live without you."

My reflection could be seen in each of the two crystal drops on either of Peeta's blushing cheeks.

I made him blush.

Without thinking much about it, I stretched up to kiss him.

A thousand kisses we'd shared, and non other was as enjoyable as that one shared that night. It tasted like a crackling golden fire on a cold night. It tasted like a day of sunshine, of hope, of the salt on his skin. At the same time we kissed, I felt something unknown pull taut my heart and I knew we were both crying, though care I did not.

When that first kiss ended, merely seconds after it had begun, I put my arms around Peeta and let him curl around me again. He kissed me again, gently, and didn't stop, letting his lips taste the bitter water on my cheeks and letting them sneak under my jaw and down my neck. I didn't stop him once, knowing I loved him. That was the only thing I knew of.

I love you, Peeta. I love you. I whispered it in his ear over and over just in case I forgot the words, though I knew I never would.

I loved him. Peeta Mellark.

I loved the way he held me, I loved the feeling of his fingers in my hair, of his little kisses on my throat. I loved his messy hair. I loved his boyish grin and eyes the color of a midday sky. I loved his arms that provided comfort during the worst of nightmares. I loved the sound of his voice when he was whispering to me, just me. I loved the way his nose crinkled up when he laughed, I loved his laugh, I loved everything about him.

I tried to tell him that one more time, but ended up swallowing the words as the ticklish feeling of his mouth on the nape of my neck stopped me.

Peeta stopped to pull his face up to mine, and it was more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen. "…More than the air I breathe." He traced my lower lip with his pinky finger.

I kissed him again, unable to look at his perfect face anymore. Our lips met and with a little gasp, it was suddenly more. Peeta had gripped my nightdress' material at the thighs and pulled me clumsily against him once more, shortening the length of my gown by a great deal. It was just hard not to laugh with joy against his mouth as I twined my fingertips in the fine blond hair in the back of his head.

Before that day I hadn't really known how much I'd wanted to do that. Whatever I had been missing was made up as Peeta and I held each other there. Our tongues were suddenly no longer our own, and our heartbeats danced against each other, but somehow in the same rhythm. I could feel Peeta's like it was my own.

Several times I felt Peeta put his lips to my ears, but only strangled gasps come out. No words. It was only after many tries he managed to speak.

"Katniss…" The word was spoken with such intimacy I may have imagined it. He spoke it as though it was a secret he was unable to keep, or as though it was meant to be the wind singing through the branches of the great pine. Too wonderful to belong to me, yet it did.

Trying to suppress shaky breaths and attempting to still my galloping heart, I touched his cheek with my mouth. "Yes?"

"….I want this."

I curled my fingers around his shirt collar and kissed his cheek again. "So do I."

Peeta's fingers, trembling, lifted up to begin undoing the first button. I watched carefully and cautiously. He was shaking so badly it was impossible to undo the buttons, so I kindly slipped my hands around his to steady them. The first button was free.

"I'm afraid, Katniss," Peeta whispered in my ear, and for a moment, I truly was too. He sounded terrified, words so raw with fear I wanted to stop everything to hold him and make his bad dreams go away.

But I was afraid, too. I was afraid for what lies ahead because I didn't know. I didn't know what was going to happen.

I stroked my finger gently across Peeta's flushed cheek. "…I'm worried, too."

"I don't want to hurt you." His breath was coming out in terrified gasps, even though the most we'd done was undo the first button of his shirt. He was still trembling from head to toe, though, and I wanted to fix it.

"You're not going to hurt me," I said softly back, letting my shoulder support his head as we lay. "We'll be fine, Peeta."

"I'm scared…" Those words were spoken from him near silent, and I gave him a small kiss on the lips.

With my help the rest of the buttons were undid and his shirt was off in a few minutes. I took it as slow as necessary, because of the ever-growing look of fear of Peeta's face and the feeling of ever-growing anxiety in the pit of my own stomach. Every time it almost managed to consume me, I focused on how sugary Peeta tasted and it goes away again, washing away as if in summer rain.

"There are ties in my back," I told Peeta quietly when he'd pause to take a moment to himself to breathe and gather courage. He looked at me with that …face again and he was there helping me sit up on my knees.

I felt his hands from my thighs to my hips and up my shoulder blades. After loosening the ties to my nightdress with unsteady fingers, Peeta lifted it over my arms and dropped it to the floor next to the bed. Underneath I was just wearing a pair of small, black Capitol underwear that I had to admit felt a lot more embarrassing to be caught in than the ones I was used to wearing.

Peeta didn't move for a little bit after that; I thought he'd frozen himself. I had the urge to cover my bare chest up, but I didn't. My back was to Peeta, and I could feel him up against me. His chest on my back, his hands curling around onto the skin of my very lower belly. Shivers were constricting my stomach and up to my diaphragm. I was so aware of his skin, everywhere he touched me and his legs which were bent on either side of me.

At one point, Peeta stilled his hands and rested his forehead on my shoulder.

"Are you still scared?" I asked him quietly, turning my head to look at him sideways.

"Terrified," he replied simply.

Twisting the rest of the way around, I put my arms around Peeta's neck and crashed my lips against his, feeling his tongue with mine again. Peeta growled softly against my mouth. He slid on top of me and pressed me to the pillows of the bed. It was like nothing else I'd ever done.

It seemed like yesterday we were friend holding hands in the greenhouse and giggling about meaningless things with our superiors. Today we were in love and about to make it as well. I was still anxious, but it helped that Peeta was no longer whimpering every time we touched.

He enveloped me with kisses on my face and jaw and throat and chest. Neither of us seemed to have a care in the world other than each other.

When I moved my hand down and slipped one of my fingers under Peeta's belt, though, he let out a strangled cry and pulled his face away from me.

"I'm sorry," he groaned, doing a not-so-successful job at maintaining regular breaths. We were both gasping for breath, but he was seeming to have extra trouble with oxygen. "I'm sorry," he said again, clenching one of his hands into fists. "I'm so terrified I'll hurt you. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you."

"I'm not hurt, Peeta. I'm fine," I reassured him calmly, holding our lips just inches apart. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

He chose not to answer for a few seconds, and when he did, it was not an answer.

"…I love you."

I cupped his face in my hands and kissed each corner of his mouth softly. "I love you, too. You know I do."

Riddled with fear and anxiety that turned into something beautiful, Peeta and I shared our last night together under the covers, only dreading the light of day.

oOo

So, you all know this was meant to be a one-shot that was rated M. Thankfully, I made it a little less graphic and decided to continue it, so a thanks to everyone who has inspired me!

Please review. Love you all!