When waking up on a train, in bed with the girl you've loved for a decade, the body has certain…natural reactions. Everlark crack. Oneshot.

This came to me in a weird moment when I was re-reading the books and got to the bit where Katniss wonders why none of the boys grew beards in the arena. Then I started thinking about what else they might have had to chemically suppress for the cameras…

As I drift upward through the blue-tinted layers of sleep, my body feels warmer and more comfortable than it has since I was a child sneaking downstairs with my eiderdown in the middle of winter to curl up beside the bakery ovens to keep warm.

I exhale slowly, feeling oddly contented considering what today will entail. Prep. Speech practice with Effie. Trying to keep Haymitch sober enough that he doesn't pitch headfirst off the platform when we arrive at the station. And above all, making sure that Katniss makes it through the remembrances of the other tributes, which are sure to be everywhere, without shattering.

Katniss. Craning my neck down carefully, I can see the top of her dark head tucked under my chin. Her breath puffing against my shoulder slowly and evenly. No nightmares, then.

Of course, she is the source of the warmth. My girl on fire. Everything about her is full of heat and passion. I remember briefly the burning warmth of her lips on mine, her fingers in my hair, her smile as she looks down at me in our cave. Then I remember that I can't have that anymore, that I'm not allowed to want her like in that way, because loving her only scares her and makes her flee, like a wild animal caught and terrified in a snare.

I sigh and pull my arms tight around her back, holding her safe against my chest. She murmurs slightly, hair sliding over my hands. I smile and drift back to sleep, enjoying the moment while it lasts.

The second I wake up, I know I'm in trouble. Massive, life-destroying, oh-my-god-I'm-panicking trouble.

When one wakes up in a soft, comfortable bed, wrapped in warm sheets and being rocked gently by the motion of a train, you'd expect to be comfortable. When you wake up in said bed, holding the girl of your dreams, loved hopelessly for the majority of your life, and she's breathing softly on to your neck in a way that tickles a little bit but feels oh so good, you might get a little too comfortable.

And right now, my body is clearly way too comfortable with this situation. I can feel the evidence of that comfort pressing into me, restrained only by the waistband of my pyjamas.

Oh god, oh god, OH GOD.

And then, the worst happens. She wakes up. Slowly, softly, eyes fluttering drowsily, shifting her weight into my side and tilting her head to look up at me. She's actually smiling.

I've kept the nightmares away! I am the Cuddling Master.

I look down at her, grinning too, unable to help it despite the situation instantly worsening below decks as our eyes meet.

'Morning, Peeta.'

'Morning, Katniss. Sleep well?'

'Like a log.' She rolls off me and stretches, luxuriously, like a cat in warm sunlight. Sitting up and pushing the tangled hair off her face, she looks down at where I'm still curled towards her. My expression must give away my unwillingness to move- although not for the reason she thinks- because she laughs.

'Come on, we've got another big, big day ahead of us!' Her mock Capitol accent cracks me up every time, especially the way her eyes widen as she mimics Effie. I chuckle as she makes to get out of my bed, locating her socks where she'd thrown them the night before. It's a habit of hers. She can never sleep with her feet covered, but always forgets to take them off before bed, remembering just as she drifts off, then balling them up and throwing them without looking where they've gone. Her morning sock hunt is one of my favourite parts of the day, watching her search my room before finding them in some strange place, like my tissue box or wedged in behind the curtains so that they fell out of the train as she threw the window open without drawing the curtains first.

Once she finds them, tucked into the top of my wardrobe, she turns to look at me, frowning slightly as she sees I've still not moved.

'What's wrong? Did you not sleep? Peeta, I've told you to wake me if you have a nightmare! You spend enough of your nights dealing with mine.'

'No, I slept fine. Really well, actually. I just, umm… I need a minute before I get up.'

'Why would you… oh.' She flushes bright scarlet all the way to the tips of her ears as she takes in the way I've curled onto my side, facing my body away from her while craning my head back to watch her.

I'm aware that I'm exactly the same colour. There's a moment of silence before we both start talking at once, filling the silence with comments about showers and schedules and Effie's need to be on time, and she practically runs out of the room.

Well, this is going to make things awkward…

Not sure about this at all, but if there's any demand I might do a few more awkward moments, let me know if there's any interest!

Meglily x