"It's only right, Katniss," Peeta says handing the stack of letters over to me. I stare at his hand for a minute before resolving to take them. I stuff them in my game bag that is sitting by my rocking chair.

"When I'm ready," I say. He watches me, intently, but I dodge his gaze. I hate feeling like I'm unable to do this for him. It's just a few letters, but who knows what, or who's, words lie within them. What or who's sympathies will be expressed because of Prim's death. After breaking the news to Buttercup, I think I am done facing it. At least for now.
Peeta purses his lips and move to the kitchen where Greasy Sae left us some warm grain and stew. He returns with two bowls, two spoons and a few cubes of bread. I take the bowl, grateful, but not very hungry. He eats in silence. I watch the fire dance around the fire place. Then I watch the fire dance in his clear blue eyes. I wonder, is that how he saw me, The Girl on Fire? Was I the fire dancing in Peeta's eyes for so long before someone finally smothered it? I'm thankful that, just like our costumes in the Quarter Quell, there were still a few embers burning. Peeta realized I wasn't eating and sat my bowl aside for Buttercup.
"Do you mind if Buttercup has your dinner?" he asks softly. I shake my head, refocused on the fire. Buttercup materializes at the sound of his name. He tucked his face into the bowl and didn't come up for air. Buttercup and I have been on better terms since I fixed his back paw.
"What time is it?" I ask Peeta.
"Seven."
I had slept the day away. If it weren't for my mother calling, I wouldn't have gotten up at all. Peeta is just looking over the book we started when I decide to go to my room. I plop on the bed and wonder about Gale. After so long, why hasn't he called? Is he afraid that I blame him for Prim's death? Does he think I have chosen Peeta, therefore, forgetting about him completely? I do miss him. He was the only piece of my "pre-games" life I had left besides Buttercup. But Buttercup isn't too keen on me.
Before I know it, I am awaken by Peeta lying next to me, stroking my face.
"You were crying," he says. I exhale and choke down a sob. It just never seems like the right time to let it all out. "I'm sorry," he whispers.
"For what?" I ask. I search his eyes for some sign of cloudiness. Is he about to try to hurt me again? I pull back just a bit. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Katniss. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I couldn't help save Finnick or Mags… or anyone really." I look into his eyes and search for something to say. I know I have been vacant so I can't let him down right now.

"You saved me," I whisper. He looks into my eyes. "You gave me bread when I was about to give up on myself and starve to death. You protected me from the Careers. You saved me from Cato. You kept me going in the Quarter Quell. You kept me from taking the Nightlock. And you saved me here, again, when I thought I had no one."

Tears well in his eyes, "and here, I just thought I was someone needing to be saved and you were my hero." He smiles. I shake my head. He looked at me so closely I wanted to shy away. So intensely I wanted to ask him what it is that he was looking for. Before I could protest, he pulled me in to his lips. I kissed him so hungrily, feeling that heat that I felt on the beach. I wanted so much more, but the harder I kissed, the hungrier I became for him. To taste his lips, to feel his fingers and to be in his arms.

A feeling swept over me. I wanted to remove his shirt, but I was so inexperienced at such a thing. As if he read my mind, he slowly slid his hand under my shirt, caressing my back. Involuntarily, I moan. I had never been touched in such a way. He pulls my body into his and I wrap myself around him, never letting go of his lips. I slide my fingers through his blond hair and hear him exhale.

He pulls away just long enough to remove my shirt and his. I immediately become conscious of the pink skin patches on my body. I must have tensed because he whispered, "Katniss, I've got them too." He was right. I forgot we were both burned by the same fire. Both. Peeta and I. The only other person who has been through the same thing as I had and has managed to come out pure and sweet, still.

I remove my pants and then undergarments. He does the same. There was an awkward moment between us where we examined each other's damages. "You are beautiful," he says. His tone was as sincere as it was the day he confessed his love in the Capitol. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him. I let gentle finger tips explore his body and he did the same.
He rolled me over, gently lying on top of me. For a moment, we are lost. Afraid of the next step. Neither of us are familiar with this. After all we've been through, we are unsure how to approach this simple animal instinct. "Will you help me?" He asks. "I don't want to hurt you."
So I help him. Before I know it, I am tensed and shaking. "Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?"

"No," I say. I can't quit place the feeling. It wasn't exactly pain, but really, what is after all I have been through? After a few minutes, I am in a place that only pleasure can live. We both inhale sharply. He rests the weight of his body on mine and becomes so gentle I begin to cry silently. I cry because I love him, because I am in love with him and because I know he feels the same. There is no amount of morphling in the world that could have made me feel the Peeta makes me feel. He kisses me and it feels so brand new. He puts his hand on the side of my face and feels my tears.

"Are you okay, Katniss? Am I hurting you?" He stops moving and looks and at me.

"No, Peeta. Please don't stop?" He continues. After a while he seems to be in pain, I suspect his prostatic leg really offers no support, so I tell him to lie down and I take over.
Before I know it, we fall into each other's arms and stay that way for about an hour. Neither one of us sleeping, because for the first time, there is relief in being awake. I lay on top of him, staring out of the window as he strokes my hair.

"Katniss?" He whispers.

"Yes?"

"You are in love with me, real or not real?"

"So very real, Peeta." I answer. He kisses my forehead and drifts to sleep.