A/N: It's been about eight years since I last wrote a fanfiction. I'm a little rusty, so please be patient with me. Reviews are super appreciated. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I appreciate all honest reviews, so thanks in advance. I'm letting this story write itself, but if there's something you'd be interested in, please let me know, and I'll see what I can do.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the storyline. However I most likely will use bits and pieces from the books and movies. I'm just borrowing them.

The train rumbled along toward District 12. If the soft purring of the engine and the barely noticeable vibration from the wind whistling between the train and the track could be considered a "rumble." The sun was setting, a brilliant orange hue along the horizon that erupted into blazing reds and pinks through the few stray clouds that dared attempt to hide such beauty. Leaning against the window, Katniss felt a small surge of anger well up. Why would nature want to cover up such a sight, when beauty, pure beauty such as this, was so hard to come by?

But beauty, Katniss had learned long ago, wasn't only seen. It was also felt.

Peeta.

Oh, Katniss gasped softly. Every time her thoughts drifted to something good, his name popped, uninvited, into her mind. Perhaps her subconscious was trying to tell her something.

Of course she felt something for him. But what was it? Trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings was making her head spin. Now was not the time to worry about that, though. Now was the time to worry about their homecoming. About how she had to stand in front of her district and...what? Appear to be happy, proud even, that she and Peeta had survived? Ecstatic that they could live happily ever after, star-crossed lovers finally together forever? Certainly that would please the Capitol. Certainly it would keep them alive. Haymitch was right about keeping up the act.

But would it be an act?

No, Katniss reminded herself, now is not the time to sort out her feelings.

She started as the soft whish of the door opening shattered her thoughts in a thousand directions and brought her crashing back to reality.

"Peeta," she whispered so softly she wasn't even sure it would carry to him.

Peetas's brow creased slightly and a frown tried to sneak it's way across his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Katniss opened her mouth, but no words came out. Peeta Peeta Peeta, her mind chanted, and she shook her head to shoo the mantra. "You didn't. It was the ah..." She'd shooed more than just her thoughts of him; she was unable to form a coherent sentence. Great, she thought and mentally rolled her eyes.

Peeta chuckled softly and lifted the tray in his hands. "Tea?"

Katniss shook her head again, wondering how she missed that he had brought anything in. Misunderstanding her head shake, Peeta looked down and seemed to deflate. "Sorry, Katniss."

"No! Yes. I didn't mean... I mean I wasn't saying no." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Tea would be lovely, thank you."

She watched him walk to the coffee table and gently set the tray down. She couldn't read his face, and that bothered her. She sat on the couch beside him, mere inches between their arms, though it felt like there was an insurmountable wall separating them. When she wasn't near him, it was easy to tell herself she'd make sense of her feelings later. But when they were together...

"I'm sorry." And she was. It wasn't fair to him. He'd made it clear how he felt about her. Nothing was an act for him. And she couldn't even pay attention when he was talking to her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She smiled at him. A small smile, but it was more than she'd been able to give him since the Games.

He handed her a cup of tea and the steam rose up to tickle her nose. "We'll be home in a few hours," he began before taking a sip of his own tea.

"Yes, it'll be good to see Prim and my mother again." Her voice was soft, and he could see her eyes becoming distant. Her thoughts were stealing her away from him again.

He put his cup back down and twisted to face her. "Katniss." He said her name firmly, but not harshly. Affection was obvious in his voice. He took her teacup and set it on the table beside his. "Katniss," he said again. He reached out to her shoulders and gently turned her toward him.

She sucked in a deep breath as his eyes captured hers. Her eyes cleared up, and she stared at him, her mouth formed into a small 'o'. He pulled his hands away and stared back at her, not trying to mask the hurt he'd been feeling.

"Why won't you open up to me? You've shut me out, put up a barrier between us..."

She didn't answer him, but her gaze softened, and her breath left her completely. She stared into his eyes. Through his eyes and into his soul. They weren't touching. But she felt something. Something pure and strong and reliable.

Beauty, her mind whispered. Beauty can be felt.

"I..." She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes against the single tear that threatened to show itself. "I'm sorry." And with that, she jumped up and ran out of the car.