Touch.

Guided by a deep-rooted impulse he couldn't always control, Peeta longed to touch her.

From the moment he had first seen her —standing by her front door, unwashed, unkempt, and scowling under the pale morning sun— Peeta had wanted to rush to her side.

His hands had itched to touch her cheek, to brush the matted hair away from her face, to let her know she'd be OK.

But it was too soon.

A dark cloud of confusion and pain still hung heavily between them. So, Peeta tightened his grip on the shovel he had brought to plant the primroses and watched as Katniss stormed away.

XXXXX

A few days later, Peeta walked into Katniss's house and found her sitting by the fire. Her clothes were clean. Her neatly braided hair smelled of rosemary and wildflowers, but her eyes seemed lost —trapped in some distant memory of happier days gone by.

Resisting the urge to reach out and squeeze her arm, Peeta knelt by her side. Gently, he placed a small basket of warm cheese buns on her lap.

As the mouthwatering smell of cheese and spices filled the room, Katniss looked down. Her eager fingers wrapped around the basket, holding it tightly against her stomach. "You made these?"

Peeta nodded. "You said they were your favorite. Real?"

"Real." Tilting the basket in his direction, she pointed to the green herbs he had sprinkled on top. "You always use fresh chives. I really like that."

Peeta turned to the flames. As much as he hated the sight of Katniss staring into them, he understood her need. His family and his childhood home had been buried under a blast. Just like Prim, they had been swallowed up by tongues of fire. Sometimes, if he looked closely enough, he could still see their faces and picture their smiles in the dancing blaze.

With a tired sigh, Peeta stood up and turned towards the kitchen. "I think Sae made soup."

Behind him, the rocking chair creaked. The sound of soft footsteps followed.

Peeta looked over his shoulder and saw Katniss carrying the cheese buns to the table, hugging the basket to her chest like it was some priceless treasure.

Later, as Katniss happily polished off the first batch of cheese buns he had baked in months, Peeta wondered if cooking for her was, somehow, the same as touching her.

XXXXX

Peeta looked up to the dark thundering clouds and groaned. It had been raining all morning, and he was soaked through.

Tired and cranky, he picked up the pace, wrapping his arms around himself to try to warm up. It was no use. The cold had seeped into his bones, and he couldn't stop shivering.

By the time he reached his front door, his teeth were chattering.

Just as he was about to turn the doorknob, the door swung open.

Katniss stood on the threshold holding the door open. Her eyes reflected the storm in the sky. "Where were you?"

"In town. I was helping out." A gust of cold wind slipped under Peeta's wet clothes sending a chill down his spine. Surprise gave way to annoyance. "How did you get in?"

"I have a set of keys. Remember?"

He was about to shake his head no when a distant memory flashed into his mind. "I gave them to your mom."

"Real. When we first moved here." Katniss moved away from the door and gestured for him to go in. "She gave you ours too. Said it was for emergencies."

Peeta stepped into the foyer and began unbuttoning his coat. He was eager to get out of his wet clothes, but it was slow-going. His fingers were stiff and cold. "So, what's the emergency?"

"I didn't know where you were."

Peeta stilled. "What?"

"It's raining." For the first time since she'd opened the door, Peeta noticed the fear in Katniss's voice. "I heard Thom and the others when they came back from town, but you weren't in the cart with them."

Peeta shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack. "I told them I wanted to walk back."

"In this rain?" She pointed out to the window and the fat drops hitting the glass.

Peeta hung his head. He was tired, hungry, cold, and confused. He couldn't remember the last time Katniss had been this upset, and he didn't know where the conversation was going. Still, he tried his best to explain. "It wasn't raining that hard. It got worse once they left."

Katniss stepped closer, boxing him in against the wall. Her eyes were as dark and wet as the gray clouds outside. "You were gone for hours. I was worried."

Peeta's fingers tingled. Tiny droplets, left behind by runaway tears, clung to Katniss's eyelashes. He desperately wanted to brush them away.

Trying to distract himself, he pulled off his wet scarf and dropped it on the floor. "Well, I'm here now." Looking down at his clothes, he noticed that his sweater was soaked through. "I'm a bit wet but, other than that, I'm fine."

Katniss shook her head. "No, you're not." Before he could protest, she reached out and touched his cheek.

Peeta sighed, slowly closing his eyes as the world around him turned hazy and soft. Unable to resist any longer, he leaned into Katniss's touch -losing himself in the warmth and comfort he had missed so much.

As his breathing slowed down, the loud pitter-patter of the rain on the roof turned into a soothing melody.

Encouraged by his reaction, Katniss stepped even closer to him. Using her free hand, she gingerly ran her fingers through his wet hair, gently massaging his scalp. Exhausted, Peeta shuddered under her touch.

"You're wet and cold, and you're probably hungry. Let me take care of you," she whispered.

Peeta shook his head. His eyes, bright and blue like a summer sky, settled on hers. "You don't have to-,"

The soft pressure of her finger over his lips silenced him. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Is that OK?"

Peeta covered Katniss's hand with one of his own. Lacing their fingers together, he brought them down to rest on his chest, right over his racing heart. "Yeah. It's OK."

XXXXX

Drifting between sleep and consciousness, Peeta stretched. His lazy hand searched beneath the blankets until his fingers found what they were looking for.

He smiled. Even after all those years, it still amazed him to find Katniss's small body lying next to him in bed. Her presence let him know she was safe. Her warm embrace told him he was loved.

With a slow, practiced motion, he ran his fingertips up Katniss's spine; relishing the feel of her bare back arching as he mapped her scars all the way up to the base of her neck.

Awakened by his touch, Katniss hummed. Her soft voice was thick with sleep. "Is it morning yet?"

Peeta's calloused fingers reached her shoulder. "Mm-hmm. Time to get up."

Katniss turned to face him. Sluggishly, she closed the distance between them, draping an arm over his waist and pressing her forehead to his chest. "Five more minutes?"

Peeta wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to his body and feeling every inch of her skin pressed against his. A warm thrill spread through him, reaching every part of his being and filling him with joy.

Content, and slightly aroused, he kissed the top of her head. "We can make it ten."

Katniss yawned. Her body was already going limp with sleep when she murmured, "OK."

Lulled by Katniss's even breathing, Peeta relaxed once more.

As the sun rose in the sky bringing the slumbering world back to life, the two victors held on to each other. In the safety of their tangled arms and intertwined legs, two survivors found the strength they needed to face a new day.