Okay, so this is my first Hunger Games based fanfic. This scene started running through my head and I had to get it out. I not quite sure where my brain will go with this or how long it will take so bear with me. This fic is running on the idea that there is no volunteering for reaped tributes. I know some will probably hate that idea but hey this is my story. If you don't like that then don't read it.

I in no way have any legal connection to The Hunger Games trilogy/

"It's my sister."

Peeta Mellark looks up at soft voice that cuts through the dark. Across from him he sees the soft blue eyes staring back at him. The unexpected comment caught him off guard. "What?"

"The girl you talked about in your interview. The one you have a crush on. It's Katniss. Isn't it?" A small smile crosses Prim's face. "I mean I have seen the way you look at her and..."

"I don't think this is something we should be talking about." He cuts her off. A faint blush creeps across his skin at both the knowledge of having been caught and the fact that the young girl's innocent words have undoubtedly been heard by the entire country including the subject of the conversation.

Silence falls over their camp once again as the regret and heartache that accompany the thought of Katniss Everdeen try to fight their way to the forefront of his mind. He had plenty of opportunities to confess his feelings but never found the courage to do so. Now it was too late. The best he could hope for now was to protect her little sister and make sure she made it through this living hell.

"Promise me that you will take care of her."

Pulled out of his thoughts, Peeta stares at the girl for a moment. "Prim, I already told you..."

"Yeah, I know what you said," She smiles at him again before shaking her head. "but you know as well as I do that there is no way they are going to let a twelve year old win. So it has to be you."

Deep down he knows there is a certain amount of truth to the girls words. In seventy four years the youngest person ever to win the Games was fourteen years old but there is always a first time for everything. "You never know. Finnick Odair was only fourteen when he won."

"I'm no Finnick Odair."

"Don't sell yourself short, Prim." Peeta tells her honestly. "You are smart and pretty and you have a family back home waiting for you."

Prim listens to his words but can't help but detect the small trace of sadness in his voice. "What about you?"

Peeta shakes his head before giving her another small smile. "Nobody needs me."