The golden light of dusk painted the houses of Victors' Village when Katniss came back from her day in the woods.

She'd had a good day. Early autumn had brought clear blue skies and a gentle breeze. She hadn't brought any squirrels down but, for the first time since she'd come back from the Games, Katniss had managed to shoot her bow without regrets or second thoughts.

She had almost reached her house when the sound of a door closing behind her caught her ear. Curious, she turned towards the sound. She immediately wished she hadn't.

Peeta was standing on his front porch. The thin cane he usually used to walk around was nowhere to be found.

A pang of longing tugged her heart at the sight of him looking healthy and strong in a pair of charcoal-gray trousers and an olive-green leather jacket that hugged his broad shoulders. The beautiful, understated clothes could have only come from Portia's talented hands.

They hadn't spoken in weeks —she still didn't have any answers for him, no words of comfort, no explanations that could mend his broken heart— but she wished they could talk. Even if they hadn't known each other for very long, she missed him.

Feeling her eyes on him, Peeta turned around.

A shocked little gasp left Katniss's lips as her mouth dropped open. His cheek was swollen. An angry purple bruise covered the left side of his face marring his handsome features.

Her first instinct was to rush to him and ask if he was ok, but the warning in his eyes stopped her short. Whatever had happened, was none of her business.

With a curt nod, Katniss took a step back, stiffly turned around, and walked straight into her house.

XXXXX

The sound of heavy footsteps and hushed voices startled her awake later that night. Apprehension coursed through her veins as she rushed to the window and peeked outside.

Two men —miners, by the look of their worn-out clothes— walked alongside Peeta. The victor was leaning heavily on them, dragging his feet as they practically carried him back to his house.

Katniss clenched her jaw. A mix of anger and concern bubbled inside her warming her veins. He's drunk as a skunk!

Fueled by annoyance, Katniss slipped on the pair of clogs she kept by her bed and ran down the stairs.

Without even knocking, she let herself into Peeta's house and followed the sound of slurred voices all the way to the kitchen.

She walked in just as the men were helping Peeta onto one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen table.

"There you go," the oldest of the two men said, gently patting Peeta's back. "You're home now."

"Thank you," Peeta mumbled, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the kitchen table.

The men stepped away from the victor and made to leave. The sight of Katniss standing by the kitchen door stopped them on their tracks.

The younger man averted his eyes and cleared his throat. No words came from his lips.

His companion recovered more quickly. "Night, Miss Everdeen," he greeted.

The formality in the miner's tone made her smile. Victors in Twelve didn't exactly command respect the way they did in other districts, -Haymitch had been the butt of hundreds of jokes throughout the years- but people didn't usually mess openly with them either. It was too close to defying the Capitol.

Still, she couldn't help but feel that there was something sweet in the way the district had taken care of her and Peeta since they'd come back —almost as if they'd all become infected by her co-victor's kindness.

"Good night," she whispered.

Alerted by the sound of Katniss's voice, Peeta looked up. His hair, which had been so carefully styled in the afternoon, was all mussed up with blond strands sticking out every which way.

Ignoring the stench of white liquor lingering in the room, Katniss inspected the bruise on Peeta's face. It was darker than she remembered. Even with the liquor, it probably hurts like hell.

The raw hurt in Peeta's eyes told her the pain on his cheek was the least of his concerns.

Looking away from her district partner for a moment, Katniss spotted a basket full of muffins sitting on the counter. Without a word, she walked over to them and grabbed a couple. She went back to the miners and moved to press the muffins into their hands.

Straightening their stance, the men shook their heads. Their eyes reflected a kind of stubbornness Katniss knew all too well.

"It's late," she insisted, "and it's a long way back to the Seam."

The older miner was the first to relent. He opened his palm and accepted Katniss's offering. The younger quickly followed.

"We'll be leaving now," the older man said. "Unless you need anything else?"

Katniss shook her head. "Thank you. I can take it from here."

Both men nodded. As they were turning to leave, the young miner found his voice, "Night, miss Everdeen."

"Good night," Katniss called back.

As soon as she heard the front door close, she turned to look at Peeta. A million questions danced in her head, but she knew she was in no position to ask most of them. Still, something was wrong, she couldn't walk away.

Squaring her shoulders, she asked, "What happened?"

Peeta shrugged. "I fell."

"You fell. On your face?"

"Yup." As if to show what had happened, Peeta slapped his hand against the kitchen table. "I fell on my face."

Katniss shook her head. She didn't believe him. The idea of him dropping like that was so absurd it made her want to laugh —she probably would have if she hadn't been so worried about him. "It's a bit swollen. Would you like me to take a look at it?"

"Nah. I'm fine." Peeta moved to stand, but the look of concern on her face made him falter. The last thing he wanted was her pity. He slumped back onto his chair and looked away. "Why don't you just go back to your boyfriend? I don't need your help."

"Stop calling him my boyfriend!" she snapped, irritated by Peeta's dismissal.

Her outburst surprised him, but he was too drunk to be truly rattled. Leaning back into his chair, he asked, "What should I call him then?"

Katniss crossed her arms and glowered at him. "How about you don't call him anything? How about you just stop talking about him altogether?"

Peeta laughed. "So… What? I'm not allowed to talk about Gale Hawthorne now?"

Katniss rolled her eyes. "You know what? No, you're not." As soon as the words left her lips, she knew how absurd they were. Who was she to tell Peeta who he could or couldn't talk about?

The amused smirk on his lips told her he was reading her like an open book so, she tried again, "I honestly don't see why you need to mention Gale at all but, if you must, you can refer to him as my hunting partner or my friend. That's it! That's all he is."

"Come on, Katniss!" Peeta's head lolled back, and he let out a bitter chuckle.

"Come on what? I'm telling you the truth. Why is it so hard for you to get it?"

Peeta straightened up a bit. His eyes found hers, as drunk as he was, they were surprisingly alert. "Because I've seen you with him."

"You've seen me with him," she repeated mimicking his drunken slur. "What does that even mean?"

Peeta's voice was calm and collected, thick with yearning. "It means I've seen the way you smile at him; the way you stand by his side —so close to each other your arms almost touch. I've spent ages watching the way you let him take the lead whenever he's around… you've always seemed so…"

"So…" she prompted, genuinely curious of where he was heading.

Peeta shrugged. "Together."

"Together?"

"Yeah, like a couple." Peeta's face crumpled.

Tears welled in Katniss's eyes. It was like being back on the train tracks all over again. The only thing missing were the onion flowers he had given her.

With a deep steadying breath, she reached a decision. She wasn't going to stand in front of Peeta, watching his heart break while she held her tongue for a second time.

In a couple of strides, she closed the distance between them, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Looking straight into Peeta's eyes, she said, "Well… we're not." At his disbelieving look, she added, "Gale is a part of me, Peeta, a big part. We've been friends for a long time, and he's like… like family to me."

"Like a cousin?" Peeta joked.

Katniss shook her head. She hated that the Capitol had labeled Gale as her cousin but, for the purpose of this conversation, the label seemed appropriate. "I don't know what I would have done without him all these years, you know? He's always had my back."

A lonely tear ran down her cheek. Using the back of her hand, she hastily wiped it away. "I know I'll never be able to repay him for what he did for my mother and Prim while I was away."

Feeling drained, she tore her eyes away from him. Her fingers wrapped around one of the buttons of her sleep shirt. The thread was about to come loose, absentmindedly, she pulled at it. "I think I know what you mean, though —about the way we look together— but we've never been a couple." She was so lost in her thoughts that her next words slipped from her lips, "I just don't like him that way."

Peeta nodded, understanding slowly sinking in. "But he does."

Katniss pursed her lips. She wanted to deny Peeta's theory, but she knew she couldn't; not after Gale had stolen that kiss. "Yeah."

"Has he ever said anything?"

Katniss shook her head. "Not really, but I think he wanted to. I think he was waiting to age out of the reaping to say something, but then…"

"You volunteered."

"Mm-hmm."

Peeta's voice was as soft as a caress. "What would you have said —you think— if he had asked?"

"I would have said 'no.'"

Surprised by the certainty in her statement, he asked, "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Because you don't like him like that," he said, carefully enunciating the words.

"Yeah, and because I've never wanted to get married," she blurted.

Peeta eyes popped open. "Since when?"

She tilted her head, slightly confused by his question. "When did I decide?"

Peeta nodded.

"After my father died."

Peeta's brow furrowed. She could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he tried to make sense of her words. The alcohol coursing through his system wasn't helping much.

Before he could ask her anything, Katniss explained, "Love is a luxury I can't afford, Peeta. It makes us vulnerable." Reaching out, she began combing his messy waves with her fingers. Peeta closed his eyes. With a soft groan, he leaned into her touch.

Pushing the hair away from his face, she added, "I just couldn't risk falling for someone who might be taken away from me, and I could never have children when I know they might get reaped."

"I'm never having children," Peeta mumbled.

Saddened by the thought, Katniss lowered her hand to his shoulder. "Were you going to before?"

Peeta straightened up and looked at her through tired eyes. "Before the Game?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I hadn't given it much thought, but… yeah. I guess I would have." With slow, clumsy motions he reached for the end of her braid and began twisting it between his fingers. "Do you know how many victors' children get reaped?"

Katniss nodded. "Too many."

"Too many," he echoed.

They stayed like that for a while -wrapped in peaceful silence; stealing shy glances and exchanging tender touches; erasing the cold gap which had opened in the weeks of distance between them.

An early-rising rooster was crowing in the distance when Katniss finally reached for Peeta's cheek. He winced a bit at her touch but didn't pull away.

"What happened?" she asked again, hoping her concern would get her an honest answer.

Peeta dropped down his head. "My mother."

Katniss's eyes hardened. "Why?"

"Because I let my guard down." Smiling through the pain, Peeta pressed the pad of his thumb over Katniss's furrowed brow. "Don't look so concerned. I was an idiot today, and so was she. It won't happen again."

Katniss swallowed thickly. She had spent the last couple of months avoiding Peeta —too afraid of dealing with the hurt she had caused him— but, now that they were talking again, she remembered just how much she liked being with him; how much he meant to her. She didn't want to push him away again.

"I hate seeing you hurt," she admitted.

The crooked smile she had missed so much settled on his lips. "Believe me, I don't enjoy it much either."

In spite of herself, Katniss laughed. "What am I going to do with you?"

Peeta reached for one of her hands and tenderly placed it between his. "You could be my friend."

Katniss's heart picked up its pace. After everything they'd been through, she had never imagined Peeta would want her friendship. "Your friend?"

Peeta nodded. "Just my friend. What do you say?"

Hope, warm and sweet, blossomed in Katniss's chest. Smiling, she nodded. "Ok."

XXXXX

It's been a long time since I've written anything but, as I was getting ready to start working on my submission for the everlarkficexchange, this little idea popped into my head. Inspiration has been so scarce lately that I decided to run along with it. Hope you enjoyed it!

One more thing: I wrote this as a one-shot, but there might be more where this came from. Let me know if you have any ideas. Thanks for reading!