I open my eyes. The pale winter morning sun floods the room. Outside a soft flurry is coming down, the sunshine bounces off the snowflakes and makes them look like dancing falling stars.

My neck is stiff and my left arm, which is tucked under my body, is numb, and still, I feel completely relaxed. I haven't slept so soundly in a long time. I close my eyes again and take a deep breath, maybe, if I ignore the throbbing in my arm, I can go back to sleep again. Maybe the soft rise and fall of Peeta's chest will lull me and I can doze off once more. Besides, he's still asleep and I'm not ready for him to wake up just yet. I haven't slept in his arms in such a long time that I don't want to let go. Just as I'm about to drift off I hear Peeta's heartbeat quicken, I let out a resigned sigh; he's awake. I feel him move slightly under me, he's probably trying to figure out whether I'm still sleeping or not. I crane my neck over his shoulder and turn to face him. His sleepy blue eyes and lazy smile greet me.

"Good morning gorgeous," he says, "sleep well?"

Gorgeous? That's new; he's never used any pet names before. Gorgeous. Am I gorgeous? I've never felt that way. He must see the confusion etched on my face because he frowns a little and asks, "What's wrong? I thought you'd slept well."

"Hmm, no. I did," I assure him as I twist around to free my left arm, it's so numb at this point that I don't even feel it anymore. I'm now lying on top of his chest; our noses are so close they're almost touching. "I was just surprised, by the… term of endearment, that's all." I say as I smile.

His frown deepens "term of endearment?" he asks.

Maybe I heard him wrong, I think. The soft blush that's beginning to color his cheeks makes me think otherwise. "Yeah," I say, smiling playfully "you just called me gorgeous." I don't think I've ever seen his eyes open faster than they did right now.

"I… hmm… I said that?" he manages to stutter. He looks so flustered it's sweet. I can't remember the last time he was this nervous around me. "Uh, Katniss, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… I guess it just slipped but-"

I'm still on his chest so I reach out my hand and place my index finger on his lips. He stops talking.

"Hey, breathe, it's alright. I don't mind, you just caught me off guard, that's all." I pause to gauge his reaction to my words; he seems to believe me because I can feel his lips turning up into a smile underneath my finger.

"You really don't mind?" he asks, clearly surprised by my answer.

"I really don't mind." I confirm, a soft smile on my lips.

I've never been one for pet names. My parents always called my by my name. Prim would call me Kat sometimes, but that's more like an abbreviation. Gale was the only one who called me something else and, if I'm perfectly honest, I was never too thrilled about that nickname. But this… this is different.

I look into Peeta's eyes and the warmth that radiates from them takes my breath away. It's been over 8 months since he came back from the Capitol and, lately, every time I look into his eyes I'm reminded of my dad. It's not that his blue eyes resemble my dad's, but the way he looks at me reminds me so much of the way my dad used to look at my mom. I had almost forgotten about that look until a few weeks ago. We'd been working on the Memory Book one night; we were standing around the kitchen table, getting dinner ready when our eyes met. The love and tenderness that I saw there made my knees buckle. I had to hold on to the table to keep from falling down. He smiled lovingly and turned around to finish slicing the tomatoes for the salad. I remember standing there, paralyzed, I didn't know if I wanted to jump, run, scream or cry. I felt like my chest was about to burst. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and willed my hands to stop trembling.

Later that night, as I lay in bed trying to figure out what Peeta's look had meant I was assaulted with the memory of my dad's eyes. His beautiful gray eyes, which were always so full of life, so full of love. It was like opening the door to an avalanche, dozens of small happy moments flooded my mind. I remembered long summer days playing on the Meadow while my parents watched me from their place under the big oak tree. And the chilly autumn nights when we would huddle in front of the fireplace while my dad sang to us or recited old folk tales his parents had taught him. I could see my parents holding hands and laughing, my dad's hand brushing delicately my mother's cheek. I remembered the way they'd danced in front of the bonfire during the winter solstice celebration. Their fingers laced together, their feet following the same rhythm. I could still see the love in their eyes, the warmth in their smiles. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks as these memories that had been lost, locked away in my subconscious, came rushing back into my mind.

That night I dreamt of my dad. In my dream we were walking into town, leaving the woods behind us. Once we reached the town square we turned towards the bakery, the old faded sign still hanging from the front door. We stepped inside and Mr. Mellark looked up from the display case and directed his usual warm smile towards us.

"Mr. Everdeen, Katniss," he greeted us, "what can I get for you today?"

"Well Mr. Mellark," my dad said, "we'd like four of your freshest cheese buns and a loaf of that nice nut bread, the one that has dried fruit, you know?"

"Yes, very well." The two men exchanged a few more pleasantries while the baker deftly assembled the small cardboard box that would hold the cheese buns. While the grown-ups were talking I realized that the door that lead into the kitchen was slightly open so I tried to sneak a peak inside. I could see shadows moving behind the door and I could hear the familiar sounds of pans and baking sheets being moved around but I couldn't see who was working in the other room. I felt my dad's hand on my shoulder and I froze, afraid that I'd been caught trying to spy into the baker's kitchen.

"Settle down, Katniss," he said, "I'm getting to it."

Getting to it?

"Will you be needing anything else?" Mr. Mellark enquired.

"Yes," replied my dad, "we would also like to take one unit of your youngest son. Do you have any left back there?" he finished with a broad smile and a wink.

The baker erupted in laughter and moved over to the door that lead into the kitchen, he flung it open and announced dramatically "Peeta Mellark your bride has arrived!"

As Peeta stepped into the bakery I realized we were not children any longer. I turned to face my dad and the look he gave me was filled with such sweetness and tenderness that I felt like crying, but I didn't. Instead I just jumped into his arms. He enveloped in a tight embrace. He leant down and whispered into my ear. "I want you to be happy Katniss. Love will make you happy."

"No, dad," I said as I shook my head "love will make me suffer. When he leaves me it will hurt and-"

"He won't leave you. You know he won't."

"How do you know?" I countered "He might, he almost left me once."

"Yes, but he didn't want to, and he came back, didn't he?" My dad pulled away slightly and fixed his eyes straight into mine.

"You know Katniss, you are right, there will come a time when he has to leave you, just as I had to leave, but the truth is that you've already given your heart to this boy. If he were to disappear now you'd be broken, wouldn't you? So, if sadness is unavoidable, I'd like you to at least try to take advantage of the happiness that can come before. Allow yourself to be happy now that you can."

I nodded in understanding, he was right; if I'm bound to suffer anyway I might as well enjoy some good times while I can. I burrowed deep into his arms and as his warmth enveloped me I woke up.

My dad's words have stayed with me. Even before the dream I already knew how I felt about Peeta. I knew that I wanted to share my life with him. I know what it'll mean to loose him but I honestly can't afford to live without him. I just don't want to. So, I've been waiting, as patiently as I know how to, because even thought I know he loves me I also know that he needs to be sure that our feelings are real. Truthfully, as much as I sometimes want to, I can't blame the Capitol for all of his misgivings when it comes to my feelings towards him.

So now, as I bask in Peeta's loving gaze I know that I really don't mind him using a term of endearment. Actually, I sort of want him to; it makes me feel closer to him somehow.

The blood flow to my left arm has been restored now that I'm no longer lying on top of it and I can feel the annoying sensation of my limb coming back to life. I move to stand up from the couch where we just spent our first night together since the war ended and Peeta pushes himself up to a sitting position.

"So, your arm is numb. Is your neck sore from being twisted all night?" He asks as he rubs the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet.

"Yeah, a bit," I say as I try stretching my sore muscles, "I guess this couch is not the best place to spend the night. I did sleep well though."

"Yeah. Me too. So, what are your plans for today? Are you still going out hunting?"

"Uh, actually, would you like to go to the winter solstice celebration tonight?"

His eyes widen in surprise and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing, he's been awake for less than fifteen minutes and I've already surprised him twice.

"I didn't know you wanted to go."

"Well, I haven't gone in a long time. I used to go with my parents, my dad would sing and him and my mom would dance in front of the bonfire. I remember looking at them and thinking they were floating on air, they were so graceful. We never went back after my dad died. I've been thinking about it lately, I think I'd like to go. So, what do you say?"

"I'd love to."

"Good," I say smiling at him.

It's time to get ready to start our day. We both need to shower and change out of yesterday's clothes. He gets up from the couch and comes over to where I'm standing rubbing my still tingly arm. He stands right in front of me and places his index finger under my chin forcing me to look into his eyes.

"I'll see you later gorgeous." My heart skips a beat and I've forgotten how to breathe, we're so close and he's looking at me with those deep blue eyes that stare straight into my soul.

"Mm-hmm," I struggle to get more words out "see you later Peeta."

His smile widens. His hand lets go of my chin and travels upward, to cup my cheek. I lean into it and close my eyes. My heart is beating wildly inside my chest. I feel his lips pressed softly against my forehead. He lingers there for a few seconds then he lets go of me and he's gone. I stand there in a haze until I hear the front closed shut.

I open my eyes. The pale winter morning sun floods the room. Outside a soft flurry is coming down, the sunshine bounces off the snowflakes and makes them look like dancing falling stars.