Author's Note: This week, I managed to read all the hunger games books. It wasn't until Monday that I had even heard of it. But here I am. The idea came to me today and it's all I've been able to think about.

Reviews would really be appreciated. This is my first hunger games story.

I awake suddenly, my eyes flashing open as I abruptly sit up. My chest heaves as I gasp myself back to reality. Beads of sweat trickle down the sides of my face; the entire surface of my skin is covered in a thin layer of it. Wiping my palms of the covers before so, I run my fingers though my hair. I try to tell myself, convince myself that it was only a dream. A figment of my imagination.

But Rue's scream still rings in my ears. The ghastly sight of a spear protruding her stomach still remains on the backs of my eyelids, haunting me whenever I blink. I can't close my eyes, in fear of falling back into the arena. And yet I can't keep them open. My salty tears are beginning to sting my eyes.

Without any control of my body, I start hyperventilating. Rocking back and forth in an obsessive rhythm, I bring my knees to my chest and curl myself into the smallest ball possible. I hold onto the tiny hope that if I make myself small enough, nothing can touch me.

"Katniss?"

I hear the rustle of covers as they are pulled back and then, with a dip of the mattress, his arms find me and pull me closer to his warm, soft chest. Small sobs break out and I'm torn between closing my eyes and keeping them open. He rocks with me until my knees drop and I remain still, silently sobbing.

"Katniss?" Peeta murmurs again, his voice sounding gently in my left, reconstructed ear. Turning slowly, I face him and melt at his beautiful blue eyes. My breathing hitches slightly and Peeta immediately pulls my head to his chest, tucking it under his chin.

We remain in this position for several minutes. Maybe even hours. I don't notice them pass as I shake at the image of Rue's limp body that refuses to leave me alone. As the minutes tick by, Peeta begins to trace his fingers along my back. It takes only seconds before I realise he is sketching, using my back as a canvas and his fingers as his pencils. No doubt, whatever he draws tonight will appear on a batch of cookies by mid-morning.

As I start to control my breathing, my vulnerable sobs cease. With a few deep inhalations, I push back on Peeta's bare chest. He's finished his drawing and is looking at me with grave eyes. I try to form a weak smile but Peeta sees right through it, planting a reassuring kiss on my forehead.

"It was Rue," I say with a tired and hoarse voice. The name floods my brain with all the memories. Her voice. Her smile. Her whistle. Her ability to leap from tree to tree. I can't contain the emotion and I let a single tear fall from the corner of my eye.

Like a little girl, I crawl into Peeta's lap and wrap my arms around his neck. I rest my forehead on his so I'm forced to stare into his blue eyes. Forcibly, I think of nothing else. The blonde eyelashes that frame them, flutter slightly. I can tell he's trying not to blink. His eyes resemble pools of ocean and from the waves within them, I can see my own grey eyes reflected.

"Everything will be alright," Peeta whispers and although it doesn't seem like it right now, I believe him. I have to because if I don't, I have nothing. The honesty in his voice makes me release a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I'll make sure of it." His hand reaches up and I feel his thumb caress my cheek like the silk Cinna used to mould into masterpieces.

And then I kiss him. Pulling myself so I'm pressed against him, I force my lips on his and although he begins with trepidation, soon he parts his lips. Leading the kiss, I push forward and we fall back on the bed, Peeta underneath. His hands snake their way up and down my body where as mine stay fixed around his neck.

In one swift movement, he rolls me over and yet I feel no pressure of his weight on top of me. He breaks the kiss from my lips and wriggles around effortlessly. His kisses trail away from my lips, along my jaw line to my ear, down the side of my neck to the base of my collarbone. Everywhere he is and everywhere he isn't is radiating with the warmth Peeta gives me. My hands unlock their vice and my fingers knot with little, curly tufts of ashy blonde hair. With a little tug, I bring his face to mine and kiss him solidly on the lips.

Smoothly, I'm tucked under the covers, my lips never leaving Peeta's. With one last kiss, Peeta pulls away and cradles me in his arms. The warmth lingers on me, creating a safe invisible layer that entices me to sleep. At first I resist, twisting in Peeta's grip.

But he starts to hum something I've never heard before and I tuck myself under his chin, sighing deeply and succumbing to a Peeta-filled dream of bliss and happiness.