Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or its characters.

A/N: Hope you enjoy and please review!

Chapter 1

KATNISS POV

Peeta holds out his hand, and I breathe in and lace my fingers through his as the doors open in front of us. He nudges my side with his elbow, which I know is my cue to plaster a smile on my face. I don't know what I was expecting, but silence was not it. It had been 14 years since District 12 had brought home a victor, and I had imagined people looking overjoyed at the sight of us. Yet everyone was staring as soundlessly as if it were our corpses riding through the square, and not the living, breathing versions of us.

The car moves slowly through the crowd, and I immediately catch the eye of the person I missed the most—Cinna. Suddenly my smile isn't fake anymore and relief washes through me. There wasn't a night in the arena where I didn't fall asleep with Cinna's face burned into my mind. I always ended up feeling guilty in the morning, when I woke up entangled in Peeta's arms.

There are so many reasons Cinna and I wouldn't work. He's 25 and I'm only 17, which is illegal for one and strongly looked down upon for another. He's also my stylist, and there is a strict rule against tributes dating anyone from the Capitol. And the biggest reason is because I am standing in front of the entire district, holding hands with the guy I am supposedly so madly in love with that I would defy the Capitol before live without him.

So when the car passes by him and he stretches his arm up towards him, it takes everything in me to resist the urge to brush my fingers against his. Though it would be subtle and clearly not the most important aspect of the parade, it was something the cameras would not miss.

CINNA POV

I lower my arm defeatedly. How could I have deluded myself into thinking she felt something for me too? I'm just her stylist, the guy who prettied her up before she had to face death, and there she is with her pretty-boy lover. To her I'm just part of the Capitol, the ones who made her struggle through a fight for life, and he is the one who struggled alongside her and helped her through it. I could never compete with that.

I spent every waking second glued to the TV screen, praying she was still alive whenever the cameras weren't focused on her, and thanking god she was alive whenever they were. Though it killed me to see her fall in love with Peeta and know I'd never get her, I still rooted for her, because I couldn't bear the thought of a world without Katniss in it.

I had never fallen in love with anyone before, but as soon as I laid eyes on Katniss, that had changed. Maybe it was something about the way she seemed so determined to win, despite all the odds against her. Or maybe it was the way she looked so brave but so scared at the same time. Maybe it was just the fact that it was just this beautiful girl, and me, alone together in the midst of all this craziness.

KATNISS POV

I slide my dress off my shoulders and watch it hit the floor. It's a beautiful dress, dark red with orange flecks at the bottom that look like flames when I spin, but it doesn't suit me. I stare at my reflection and touch my cheek, still having a hard time believing I survived. When the door opens behind me, I jump and turn around to see Cinna. Relieved, I run to him and throw my arms around his waist. It takes a minute for him to begin to hug me back, but when he does, it sends shivers up my spine. These are the hands whose touch I have been craving since I entered the arena, but something doesn't feel right. Peeta runs through my mind and I realize it's guilt, but I push that thought from my mind when I realize I'm only wearing a slip. I pull back, embarrassed.

He cracks a smile, knowing the exact reason for my blush. "Katniss," he says softly. "I've seen you naked, remember?"

I feel my cheeks redden even more. "Not comforting."

He guides me over to the couch and we sit down, too close together to pretend it's only friendly.

"How are you?" he asks, looking concerned.

"All right, I guess," I shrug.

"You're probably sick of everyone asking you that, aren't you?" he asks as he slides his arm around my shoulders.

"Actually, you're the first one to ask," I say. "And I wouldn't mind being asked twenty times a day for the rest of my life. I'm just so glad this is over."

"Well you fought like a champ. I knew you'd win."

I recall his last words to me before I entered the tube. "I'm not allowed to bet, but if I was, I'd bet on you."

"I missed you," I tell him, my finger tracing circles on his knee.

He glances down at my lips, and I know we're both wishing he could kiss me.

"Don't say things like that," he breathes. "It makes me think we have a chance."

"Maybe we do," I whisper.

He shakes his head. "You don't know how badly I wish that were true. But we can't."