Chapter 1: Always

He always knocked softly, once, before opening the door and whispering her name: "Katniss?" The question was always in his voice, even though she always said yes.

He always stepped into the room softly and closed the door quietly, as if they were keeping their sleeping routine a secret but they both knew it was the only way to really manage any sleep, to manage a few hours of relative peace.

Tonight, like always, he was wearing a plain black t-shirt and grey flannel pants. He always slept in pants, even on hot nights, when the train moved through the warmer parts of Panem. Katniss wondered if it was because of his artificial leg but didn't dare to ask. They were trying to ward off nightmares, not re-live them.

He always stood by the bed for a few seconds, just looking at her. She always wanted to reach out for him, to grab his waist and bury her head in his stomach and allow him to wrap those strong arms around her head, shutting out every noise, every sight, everything but that moment. She never did. Instead, she always allowed him to look at her before she asked, simply, softly, always a little doubtfully, "Hold me?"

He always said yes, climbing in bed next to her, putting his body as close to hers as they could manage, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close, and finally breathing out the breath he'd been holding since entering the room, the breath reserved for if she didn't ask, the breath he held each time he looked at her and remembered how beautiful and perfect he thought she was.

He always said, "Goodnight, Katniss." Not because he really believed a good night was possible, but because he wanted to help her to think it might be.

She always settled into him, grateful he agreed again, wondering what she'd do without his arms around her, his heartbeat so close to her own.

"Goodnight, Peeta."