A/N: Hello! And here's the first chapter of the sequel to Always, which I think you should read first (and probably needs rewriting), but it's okay if you don't. I'm almost done writing this story, just some polishing and stuff, so the waiting won't be long. This is slightly AU, same goes for my previous fanfiction, but Suzanne Collins didn't really expound on some things so I don't know.

I have plans for all of them, really great plans, so I really would like you guys to stick with me to the end. I promise, it's worth it. Well, I hope it is.

Blabbering aside, here it is! It starts right after the wedding.

Oh, by the way, I want to thank everyone who read Always. Thank you so much. Really. (If you want to read it, just check my profile. It's the only other thing in there, I think)

PS: English isn't my first language, so bear with me.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I'm just borrowing them from Suzanne Collins because I love them so much.

They say that once you get married, your life changes. With our setup, I didn't think anything could possibly be different.

How wrong I was.

Our mornings are relatively the same, waking up to each other, sharing a few touches and kisses before fully getting up… but I don't know. Knowing that I'm married to this man makes takes it to a whole new level of bliss.

That first morning, I woke up feeling nothing but damp sheets and warm limbs around my body. I wondered why I was naked, and I didn't get the answer until I twisted around and faced an identically naked Peeta. I blush and smile at the memory tugging at the back of my mind.

God, I love this boy.

I press a soft kiss to one of his collarbones and bring my hand up to encircle his waist. He stirs awake and after a while yawns me a good morning. I murmur a greeting back to him, kissing his chest again.

"Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we stay like this for a while?"

"No problem," I say, pressing myself closer to him, feeling his warmth.

"God," he whispers. The events of last night probably coming to him. He buries his face in my hair, "I love you." His voice makes my head feel light, and I feel weird. The same kind of weird whenever I'm with him. It's hard to explain, but I guess that's love.

Someone knocks on our bedroom door and bursts our little bubble of peace. I let out an exasperated sigh. What did we ever do to the world for it to be so unfair? Peeta's chest rumbles as he chuckles, "I'll get it."

He stands and hastily puts on his prosthetic and pulls up a pair of boxers and pants. In seconds he's fully clothed again like nothing happened. It bugs me how much easier it is to be a guy. I recall just how long it takes just for me to put on my underwear. He turns to me and raises his eyebrows.

"What?" I say defensively.

"You're beautiful, Katniss. And I'm lucky to have you, and to have seen you naked. You're perfect, but I don't want anybody else to see you like that."

A glance down at my current position clears everything up. I quickly wrap myself in our blanket, his possessiveness bringing a small smile on my lips.

"You're so selfish."

"Just when it comes to you."

He opens the door finally, revealing my mom, a bottle of spirit cradled in her hands. "I wasn't able to give you this yesterday, but here's my wedding gift to the both of you."

"Oh," he breathes. I watch as Peeta takes the bottle from her. "Thank you, Mrs. Everdeen."

"That's my favorite," she adds. She spots me looking at them and gives me a small wave. It could be my mind playing tricks on me or my mom is really glaring at me. Which is something I should have seen coming. I mean, she attended the wedding of her nineteen year old daughter last night, so it's kind of a given she'll lose her virginity that same night. Add that to the fact that it's probably obvious that I'm naked underneath this blanket. And okay, I'm only nineteen but who cares? At least I'm married, and we were safe. I had a shot.

"I'll be going now. You two deserve some time alone."

She goes and Peeta closes the door behind him with an almost mischievous smile on his lips. He places the bottle on the drawer beside the door and slowly makes his way back to me. I lift the edge of the blanket I'm clutching so he can slide in easier, every second that he's not with me I deeply regret. We resume our previous position but he's not just warm enough.

What's up with me wanting more?

"I liked it better when you didn't have a shirt on."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, and it's unfair. Just look at me."

He smiles at me widely, then pulls his shirt off, discarding it to the side of the bed. He pulls me closer and it feels so good. I sigh and snuggle against his chest. I feel impossibly safe with him, even back in the Arena with thousands of dangers sitting idly around us, when he held me in that cave I felt safe.

It's with these thoughts that I close my eyes and let sleep pull me in for another time.

"Hey, brainless, stop fucking bread boy for a moment and give me some food!"

Ugh.

"Johanna," we both breathe out. They're not set to leave until the day after tomorrow, since the wedding ended late and it would be cruel of us to not let them rest before leaving. They also wanted to see Twelve and spend some time with us, which is actually kind of sweet.

But we have to postpone whatever we have in mind.

"Why did we invite her again?" he asks me as a joke. I just shake my head in response. I'm feeling very annoyed at this moment because why can't the two of us get more than a few minutes of peace? We spent the whole day talking to our guests and entertaining them yesterday and why isn't that just enough?

But this is Johanna though. We could never really stay mad at our loud and I think almost-always-angry friend. "We'll be down in a minute!" Peeta yells.

"Yeah, take your time putting clothes on! And Katniss, you are so going to spill everything to me! I need details!"

I cringe inwardly, already planning how to avoid all the invasive questions she'd be throwing at me.

After a couple of days, we finally have the house to ourselves again. We've just sent off the rest of our guests—which is just Johanna, Gale and his girlfriend, and Annie, Finn, and Chuck. My mom left a day earlier due to an emergency back in District Four.

The long walk to and from the station makes my legs feel like they're about to fall off at any given moment. I refuse to tell Peeta this because he might just sweep me off my feet and carry me. All that with a contraption of plastic and metal for a leg. I can't imagine how difficult that would be. When we get to the huge fountain in the middle of Victors' Village, I'm already leaning my whole body weight on Peeta. He must have noticed because he tells me, "Just a couple more yards, Katniss. We're almost there."

I grunt audibly and try to stand up a bit straighter. The afternoon sun is frying me. Even with my thinnest shirt and shortest shorts (which only covers half my thighs, yes, and no, I don't have and wear anything else shorter than that because Peeta doesn't like it which is great because I don't find them very comfortable, when we're out of course, but in private, I'm okay with less), I'm still left feeling rather baked. He pulls me flush against him, my head in contact with his chest, and we walk faster. Actually, he might have been carrying me.

I plunk unceremoniously on the couch the moment we get inside. Droplets of sweat slide across every bit of my skin. I hear him chuckle lightly. It takes all of the energy I have left in my body to right my head up and look at him. All that energy is replenished when I see him pulling his shirt off.

He's not exactly ripped, but he's muscular. All those months of eating the food the two of us provide has helped him gain back his weight. His arms are toned from all the lifting he does at the bakery. His midsection doesn't exactly have a six-pack, but with the right angle and lighting, you would see some definition. His head gets stuck in his shirt so he yanks it a bit more roughly, his biceps tensing at the action.

I'm so lucky.

I don't pay any attention to the scars spread across his whole body.

He still has one of his arms entangled in his shirt when he catches me. "Oh, look at that. My wife's checking me out."

I scowl to hide the guilty smile I have on my face. I must look silly. He walks to sit beside me and lets his arm drop around my shoulder. "Want me to do your back?"

"God, yes."

As I turn my back to him, he lifts the back of my shirt then starts massaging me. Years spent kneading dough has paid off well. This sounds ridiculous but if I'd only thought of what a baker's hands could do, I wouldn't have even batted an eyelash at Gale. He was incapable of doing anything to help me get through all those sore days after long hikes and treks that I had to endure for years. Or maybe he could have done something, but given my mindset and the type of our relationship, he couldn't. It doesn't matter, what matters now is that I'm alive and content, and okay, a bit thankful for the life I have.

A soft moan escapes me. "How you manage to find ways to pleasure me is beyond me. How do you do that?"

"I have to make sure you're not going to leave me. God knows I'd risk everything for that not to happen."

"I'm not going anywhere, Peeta."

He merely shrugs and focuses on a spot between my shoulder blades and it feels so good I have to bite down a much louder moan. How is a single person capable of all of this?

"Okay, your turn," I say, quickly whipping down my shirt and facing him.

He looks at me like I've grown a pair of horns. "My turn? Wha—why?"

"I also have to make sure you're not leaving me. It would be easy for you to find someone else. Unlike me, you're pretty attractive. I saw the butcher's daughter checking you out. At our wedding."

"No kidding? Therese? And no, Katniss, you are attractive. Don't be so hard on yourself."

I just shrug, "I had to keep my hands on you like crazy so they don't find themselves hitting her."

He laughs at me, his hands drawing me closer, making me stand on my knees. He studies me, "I like this Katniss."

I shoot him a look of confusion, my hands finding their places on his shoulders. "What Katniss?"

"Possessive Katniss. Though I do like stubborn and grumpy and hungry and persistent and sweet and cuddly and giggly Katniss, too."

I feel heat rushing to my cheeks and I give his shoulder a playful shove. "Come on, I'll do your back, too."

He turns around, one of his leg tucked underneath him, the other one planted firmly on the floor. I try massaging him but he's just so… hard. It's all that muscle. After the first Games I think the both of us didn't have a single ounce of fat left on our bodies. Then Peeta lost the muscle he managed to build from working in their family's bakery when they tortured him in the Capitol. So really, he was a clean slate.

I'm not backing out though, so I just pinch a bit of muscle here and there, hoping it would pass.

"Katniss?" he asks, craning his neck to look at me. He shifts a little so he's facing me again. "Are you massaging me or are you feeling me up?"

I feign disgust and stand up, splaying my hands and exaggeratedly wave them in the air. "I can't—just. No. I'm done."

The sound of his laughter fills the room and my head. He catches my waist and pulls me to him. The back of my knees hit the edge of the couch and I fall between his legs. His arms automatically wrap around my torso as he trails kisses on my neck, slowly working his way up my jaw. "I'm kidding. I love you. And I like the feeling of your hands on me."

He kisses the spot behind my right ear and I almost crumble at the feeling of his lips there. He hums in amusement. He hasn't stopped kissing that small patch of skin ever since he found out on our wedding night it's one of my weak spots. I feel his teeth graze my ear, then his lips are back on my neck.

I think my stomach's going to twist itself so much it's going to give me cramps.

I turn around and take his face in my hands, wasting no time in kissing him. He responds immediately and kisses me back. Gently at first, but the feeling of each other's lips moving against your own makes everything blurry. My fingers tangle with his blond curls and tug at them lightly. His hands roam my back, and the moment they slip under my shirt I lose every bit of self-control.

It's another perk of being married. It.

I wonder when I'll be able to even think the word.

Peeta and I are both so spent up from all the… activities we did for the past few hours. We're lying on the bed, my forehead still damp from sweat. The light coming in from our window is no longer from the sun. The clock informs me it's well past seven in the evening. Okay, so that took longer than it felt. But anyway.

With heavy limbs, I reluctantly wriggle my way out of Peeta's embrace. He's fallen asleep, which is totally understandable. He's tired. I'm tired. It just so happens I'm hungry, too.

I dress up and prepare dinner for us from all the leftovers of the leftovers of our wedding. I know we have enough money to buy food and we both have the abilities to provide for ourselves, but throwing any bit of food away just feels so wrong. Especially having grown up in Twelve, where you can starve to death in safety.

Almost half the food has gone stale so the next morning I leave him a note and go out hunting. I missed my woods so much. Quiet washes over me, my eyes falling shut to the spring breeze and soft chirping of the birds. Crouching down to retrieve my bow and arrows from the hollow log that has housed it for so many years, a pair of eyes stare right back at me. I startle at the sight of it, but when it crawls out, I can't help but smile. I really am Catnip.

"Hey," I gently greet the lynx cub. She seems tame. I offer my right hand for her to smell. When she doesn't tense or bite, I take it as a signal to scratch her chin. I feel her purr at my touch. "You're all alone?" I ask her, as if it's going to answer me. I pull my bow out fully and nock an arrow. I take a few steps and see if she's going to follow me.

The cub looks like it's weighing the options, then proceeds on stepping out of the log. I spot a squirrel to my right and shoot it. The lynx cub's head follows the sound of the arrow as it zips through the air. It lodges right in the eye. Walking over to where the dead squirrel lay, I take out the arrow and toss the whole squirrel to the cub. She noses it for a moment, then eats it.

"If you follow me around the whole day, I might not get a haul. And if you do, I think I should name you."

I sit on another log and watch her as she eats silently, racking my brain for any name I could give her. All the names of the dead people I knew and held so dearly come to my mind but I skip all of them. It would be painful for her to be a namesake of somebody I still see in my nightmares.

I decide to just leave it. Most people I know—or knew—are gone anyway. I continue my hunt, tossing the thin squirrels to the cub, until the sun's heat feels too much. She almost follows me back to Twelve but I stop her. She's too precious to be killed. There are still a few tyrants in town that just might take her for her coat. I speak to her in a hushed tone for a reason I can't find. "Stay here, okay? Don't follow me. I'll be back tomorrow."

I get to the other side of the fence and see that's she's watching me from where I left her. Good. I wave her goodbye and make a run for home.

It's eerily quiet when I step into the house. This is unusual, Peeta should be up by now. Probably making breakfast or drinking his coffee. Something must be wrong.

"Peeta?" I call out gently. "Peeta? Where are you?"

A soft whimper from the living room catches my attention. I drop my game bag to the side and let my hunting jacket fall to the floor. Peeta's wedged between the couch and the center table, rocking back and forth, his hands gripping strands of his hair so hard I fear he might just be strong enough to pull a handful out.

Slowly, but with my guard up, like I would with a wounded predator, I make my way to his side. He has his eyes closed from fighting off the episode. I wish I could squeeze myself into his mind and help him weed all the confusing memories out. I pry his hands away from his hair, "Shh, it's okay, Peeta. Shh. I'm here. I'm here with you."

After so many weeks of good days, of course there has to be a bad day. The odds aren't in our favor like that. It pains me to see him like this, on the verge of going crazy, fighting his demons to stay sane. I feel guilty, if I had not agreed to be the Mockingjay, Snow wouldn't have hijacked him.

But a part of me also knows that he would have killed Peeta. There was no way he's going to let him go. And having to live the rest of my life without him would be unbearable. Sleepless nights and meaningless days, and having to face everything alone? I can't.

"Peeta, look at me," I say and take his face into my hands. "Open your eyes, please, Peeta. Look at me, look me in the eyes."

He has let go of his hair, but now he's directing all his frustration to the hem of his shirt. He's twisting and stretching them, over and over, over and over. After a minute or more of struggling, he finally dares a peek at me, his eyes startlingly blue.

"Peeta, it's okay, we're in our living room. We just got married a week ago, I love you. Anything else other than that, it's not real." He's trying really hard to hold my gaze, I can almost see him breaking at the seams just from looking at his eyes.

"You—you're not a mutt?" he asks. My heart aches from hearing his usually light voice strain to get the words out. And the fact that he doubts what I am.

"No… no, I'm not going to hurt you. I love you."

He closes his eyes again, so hard that wrinkles appear on his forehead. As a last ditch effort, I sit on his lap and lean my forehead against his. I tell him I love him repeatedly, softly, like those three words are the only words I know. I close my eyes, not being able to look at him suffer for any longer. I never will be able to look at Peeta suffer.

All of a sudden he dies in my head, this image of him I have in my mind completely goes limp in my arms. My heart beat quickens, and my eyes open frantically to reassure me that he's still breathing. I feel tears on my cheek but I don't wipe them. I can't bring myself to let go of Peeta. He's still fighting, untangling the mess of thoughts he probably has in his mind. Tears fall from his eyes, and I know he's in a lot of pain, and I want to give him strength but I don't know how.

It's not something I'm certain will work, but what else can I do? I close my eyes again and talk to him in my mind. He can sense my thoughts at given times, maybe now he can.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and releases it. We're quiet, me still straddling him, my hands cupping his face, and my mind, hopefully, persistently sending calming thoughts to his.

"What did I ever do to deserve you, Katniss?" he asks me softly.

"You're just you, Peeta. You're just you."

"And that's enough?"

"Yes. It's more than enough."

"Maybe I'm not the person you think I am."

This brings out a quiet laugh from me. "Peeta, I know you hate some parts of yourself, but I don't." I open my eyes now, staring right back at his. "You're perfect to me. I love you. All of you."

He doesn't say anything back, just stares at me. He stares at me so long I feel conscious about how I look. My hair's a mess probably, one look at my hands and I regret placing them on Peeta's cheeks. Bits of dried blood are still on my nails and fingers. Then very slowly, as if time has suddenly stopped going by its usual speed, he takes my chin into his hand and brings his lips to mine for a very gentle kiss.

We pull away, sad smiles on our lips. I help him stand and walk to our bedroom, one careful step at a time. Once he's settled, I remove his prosthetic and place it at the side of the bed.

"I'll go get your medicine, I'll be right back."

I drop a kiss on his head, his damp curls tickling my lips, and walk to the door. I'm just about to close the door when he calls me. "Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

A/N: And there it is! I had to write a flashback scene right away, because these characters have suffered so much. They're special.

Here's a quote from Peeta in the next chapter:
"I don't like hospitals either. They remind me too much of my cell."

So, there you have it. Let me know what you think.