Author's Note: I'll try not to ramble too much here, but those who know me probably know I will anyway; the good news is (in this regard) many of you DON'T know me because this is my first Everlark fic. I actually started shipping them courtesy of all the great writers here, so a preemptive thank you is in order. Another thank you will come after you read the story and leave a review about what you liked or didn't like - I willingly accept all constructive criticism, as this is is so far out of my comfort zone that I probably shouldn't even post it.

Nonetheless, I am posting it (weirdly enough, this story was actually my second idea for a fic, so your reviews will really dictate whether I bother with the other one). The idea has been done about a million different times, and surely better than this, but I couldn't stop thinking about it when paired with Ed Sheeran's "Kiss Me". I listened to the song on repeat the entire time I wrote this, and I suggest you do the same as you read.

Speaking of such, no infringement intended for its usage nor the minor bit of dialogue from S.C.'s Mockingjay. Don't sue. :)

Now, without further ado ...


Peeta tucked the stump of his left leg further under him, a sketchbook perched precariously on his elevated right thigh. He rested high against the headboard of the bed, both his elbows at each side on the mattress. His left hand held the bottom corner of the booklet while the other fingered a covered piece of graphite, gliding it over the paper effortlessly. The actual drawing was of little importance and certainly not worth the quality of the materials, but he used the hobby to distract himself while he waited for Katniss' shower to end.

She emerged from the bathroom wearing a simple nightgown and matching expression, a cloud of heated vapor dissipating behind her while she finished securing her hair into her standard braid. She looked down at her pajama choice shyly when he apparently stared too hard or for too long, though he hadn't been paying any attention to the outfit; she was what he found beautiful. Regardless, whether his expression was enough to convince her or she stopped caring, she padded closer and pulled back the covers on her side of the bed, sliding in right next to him. Her eyes glanced at his drawing and then his face, repeating with a completely different expression when he moved to put everything on the small bedside table to his right. He relieved her of any guilt with just a soft smile, turning off the small lamp and then lifting his left arm up in invitation before pulling the blanket over himself. She didn't even hesitate to scoot closer, burrowing herself against him with a content sigh that nearly took his breath away.

It was still hard to believe how far they'd come, whether one was keeping track from when he'd tossed her that loaf of bread in the rain or from when they'd returned to District 12 after the war. Every time they'd thought life couldn't have gotten any worse, any harder, they'd been proven wrong. And it took a long time for either of them to believe things could be good again; even now they had days when they'd be on edge for no other reason than history told them something bad was due. But when she was nestled at his side, one arm trapped between their bodies while the other rested lazily across the cotton fabric covering his torso, each of them perfectly comfortable to just be, it was hard to remember a time when this wasn't normal.

Right.

Settle down with me

Cover me up

Cuddle me in

*s*

Lie down with me

And hold me in your arms

She shifted against him, her head moving off the area right below his shoulder and extending forward. He was in the middle of peering down at her in confusion when he felt it, her lips dancing delicately across his neck. He was so used to them blurring the lines that the proper reaction seemed out of reach, his mind too focused on relishing in the sensation of her lips on him to worry about why they were there or if they should or shouldn't be. They'd started sleeping together as a form of comfort, sheltering one another from the demons that overtook their subconscious during the night. And they'd shared kisses before, ones against foreheads or temples in an effort to calm the other. This, however, felt different. Like something … more. Something once forgotten, but a memory that was becoming more and more real each passing night. Every single second.

Something like love.

And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck

I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet

And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

Each day they moved closer and closer to the future he'd always wanted but had been too afraid to dream could come true - before and after the Games. And he knew she loved him, even if she still hadn't admitted to such was precisely why he was still too afraid to say anything, though he could be perfectly happy living in that state of limbo; as long as he was with Katniss, he had everything he ever needed.

But if she wanted to take that next step, to cross that threshold they'd so carefully teetered on for the past few months, he needed it to be real. There were no cameras anymore, but he also didn't want to be a default or just a security blanket. He didn't just want her to love him, but he wanted to be loved. He knew it could never be like the way he loved her - she might be the huntress and he might have a limp, but he had a 15-year head start in the love department; she'd never catch up - but he couldn't do it alone.

Not again.

Kiss me like you wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

This feels like falling in love

Falling in love

We're falling in love

Tentatively, he moved the arm wound around her side, pulling her to rest fully on top of him. She dropped her head until her lips pressed against the spot above his heart, and his fingers dug deep into her lower back, over the silk covering. She still had no idea the effect she could have, how badly he wanted to reciprocate the embrace and have it mean something. She was so focused on healing him, paying back her debt to him, even though all he wanted to do was prove to her that he was ready to take care of her, too. That she didn't always have to be the strong one, that they could be equals. They protected each other; that's what they did. She either had trouble seeing it or didn't want to accept it.

Figuring out how to explain to her that it wasn't about settling (nothing could make someone like Katniss settle) but just willingly accepting him in her life was his biggest struggle.

Settle down with me

And I'll be your safety

You'll be my lady

*s*

I was made to keep your body warm

But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms

Oh no

Her eyes slowly ascended his face, lingering on his mouth before connecting with his own gaze. He'd grown accustomed to deciphering her expressions; she didn't rely on words but rather actions, and it'd forced him to learn different ways to read her. Her magnetic stare was as silver as the moonlight on a cloudless evening, and while she was guarded and even vacant to others, the gray orbs were like an open portal to her soul for him. She was searching him, mimicking the pensive observations he used to figure her out. It was unnecessary, not just because he would tell her anything she wanted to know if she asked, but also because she already knew him fairly well.

She just didn't trust herself enough to believe it.

"You look kind of crazy," she admitted wryly, one side of her mouth twitching up into a smile as she rested her head against the fist she'd made on his chest.

He chuckled lightly in response, knowing she was likely right but too fascinated by the way her lithe frame jostled from the tiny movement to care. He wondered if she could feel the way his heart rate was picking up, their closeness absorbed into every pore of his skin in addition to every detail in his mind. If she could, she didn't seem to mind, which only made him more curious. Typically their nightly routine consisted of them taking turns showering followed by a few minutes together in bed while the first one out finished their respective hobby - he might be drawing or she writing, for instance. Then they'd turn off the light and sink under the covers, her always wrapped in his arms until they fell asleep. Never did they share an embrace, nor rarely did they speak.

"You look kind of beautiful," he finally decided to say, partially just to test whatever had changed tonight from all the others beforehand.

"Kind of?" She asked almost instantly, her teasing ruined by how quickly the blush rose to her cheeks.

He couldn't imagine calling her pure anymore, not after everything they'd seen and survived. By age and by circumstance, they were adults. And if she was embarrassed by an innocent joke, then the fact that his eyes had already fallen more than once to the delicious expanse of olive skin on display above the top of her nightgown was criminal. But something in her eyes made him question her humor, made him question everything.

"What?"

Her gaze fell again, staying down even though she picked her head up. He could almost see the words running through her mind, molding and rephrasing a thousand different times until she felt comfortable enough with the structure and meaning. Only then did she look back at him, hesitation swimming in her otherwise clear expression. Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. Her eyes closed, then opened wide. Then, she kissed him.

And he fell in love. Again.

My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck

I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet

And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

He was so nervous to scare her away, to tilt the world back on its original axis where things like Katniss kissing him didn't exist. His lips worked independently of the rest of his body, his hands as still as stone in fear of doing something to stop her quiet, careful exploration of his mouth. But other bodily reactions weren't as easy to control, and when she started to move from from lying straight on top of him, he couldn't help but spend the last few seconds cataloging everything to memory as it was most definitely about to end. Her legs fell open, bracketing his hips between them, and his hands slid from her lower back down her thigh and then the bare skin of her knee in response.

He wasn't sure which of them moaned louder.

She broke away from the kiss, her breath heavy as her forehead rested against his. It took a moment, but eventually her eyes opened and he was again taken aback by how powerful her gaze could be. She'd led a rebellion - and it hadn't been from her moving public speaking skills; it was the emotion she provoked, the conviction in her words and emotion in her eyes that caused action - and she could most certainly get him to do anything she wanted even if he didn't want to. But he did want to. More than anything, he wanted to show her how far they'd come, how much better off they were together.

"Real."

Any lingering questions he had regarding her intentions or motives were forgotten with that one word, spoken so softly but so truthfully that there really wasn't any other response outside of kissing her. And the exploration that followed was far less timid, bordering on urgent. As if he was still worried everything could be over in a moment, Peeta couldn't stop his hands or lips from touching every inch of her that he could reach. He let his fingers hook into the pinched space under her knees, pulling her flush against him before his fingertips trailed ever-so-slightly across the back inside of her thighs right above where the hem of her nightgown had risen.

The sharp inhale she took came straight from his lungs, but neither cared enough about something as insignificant as oxygen if it meant breaking from their kiss. She bit hungrily at his lips, her hands bracing herself on his shoulders as he started to roll them to reverse their positions. He moved slow enough to give her a chance to protest, but seconds turned into a minute and even though his eyes remained closed and his lips stayed connected to hers, he sensed her legs open invitingly. He groaned low in his throat, pulling away only when he felt her start to smile against his lips.

Kiss me like you wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

This feels like falling in love

Falling in love

We're falling in love

He searched her eyes, not necessarily looking for doubt or fear but just anything that might help him make sense of what was happening. It had been almost a year since he'd been hijacked by the Capitol and he was improving more and more each day, but there were still times when he could get lost in his own head. He'd experienced every spectrum of human emotion when it came to Katniss, and paired with the whirlwind of feelings coursing through him at that very moment, he was struggling with which reality to believe. There was not a day that went by when he didn't know with utmost certainty that he loved her, but he could still feel that unadulterated hatred course through him from time to time - sometimes so violent that his nails would leave marks on whatever surface he had to grip to keep himself rooted. And, more and more, he was overwhelmed by how long and how much he loved her, then suddenly overcome with wanting to show her the power of that love with the action that she prefered in every other aspect of life. Then, sometimes he'd misread her hesitant reaction to such affection as nothing short of the truth, always afraid she was acting or protecting him from heartbreak.

"Peeta."

She broke through the racing thoughts so simply, his name on her lips one of his favorite sounds in the entire world. It brought him back to the moment, allowed him to experience her small, agile hands dip under his shirt and scorch the already heated skin of his abdomen. He reveled in the methodical way she rid him of his shirt and then herself of the nightgown, his surprise at her confidence overshadowed by the fact that there had been nothing between the fabric and her. His mouth went dry at the sight, and for the first time in his whole life, words evaded him. There were not enough adjectives in any language to describe how beautiful she was, how exceptional this moment was to him - to them. Luckily, because she had been studying him so carefully, she seemed to understand his lack of response was the most powerful reaction she could have received.

Yeah I've been feeling everything

From hate to love

From love to lust

From lust to truth

I guess that's how I know you

So I hold you close to help you give it up

He plunged his tongue deep into the moist cavern of her mouth, soaking up the pride that coursed through him when her body arched up into his. It gave him the courage to let his shaking hands seek out previously uncharted territory, both of them moaning when her pert breast molded into his palm. He was never happier to have refrained from sucombing to most hormonal urges than he was at that moment, knowing nothing would have or could compare to experiencing everything for the first time with Katniss. Having them share every first kiss that turned into touching, first touches that led to primal sounds, and first noises that became the symphony of their lovemaking.

It was all so new and so exhilarating. The curl of her fingers against the bedsheet, her breathy sighs of pleasure, the desperate pull of her legs against his waist. Everything was moving so fast but somehow seemed to happen in slow motion. Every detail seared itself in the permanent recesses of his mind, the moments dragging in his senses even though he knew it was all about to come to an end. A glorious, earth-shattering, life-changing, climatic end.

So kiss me like you wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

This feels like falling in love

Falling in love

We're falling in love

Eventually, their breathing returned to normal, just like everything else. Outside of being naked, their positions were exactly like any other night, with her frame nestled into his and nothing heard but the soft wind through the cracked window. It didn't seem possible, to conjure up such specific, vivid detail, but he'd been through too much to assume.

"You love me," he whispered. "Real or not real?"

"Real."

Kiss me like you wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

You wanna be loved

This feels like falling in love

Falling in love

We're falling in love