AN: Written for Prompts in Panem, Farewell Tour, October 2015.

Day 7, Prompt: Cheeks.

(see the end of the work for more notes)

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It started out like any other Wednesday.

Books and notebooks lay scattered all over the kitchen table while Katniss and Peeta worked on their homework. They had spent all day working on a research project for their biology class. As usual, he was in charge of drawing the graphs and diagrams, while she supplied the information that went with them. They worked quietly and diligently as they sat on opposite sides of the table where she had slowly come back to life.

Outside, the sun was setting. Soft golden light filtered through the window shades, warming everything in its path. A crisp spring breeze filled the room with the scent of fresh grass, flower blooms, and damp earth. Rebirth, hope, and possibility hung in the air.

Katniss closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to absorb the little bit of her woods that lingered around her. She smiled. She had spent the better part of her day stuck inside her house, reading and researching for her school project, but she didn't mind.

It had taken her awhile to understand why Dr. Aurelius had wanted her to enroll in the long-distance learning program. At first, she'd seen it as nothing more than a ploy to distract her from her grief. But, Dr. Aurelius had been nothing but good to her, so she'd decided to humor the man.

The first weeks had been difficult. Adjusting to regular timetables and spending so much time trapped indoors was hardly something she'd enjoyed. But, once the days had grown colder, and the glacial winter air had frozen everything in sight, she'd been grateful to have something to occupy her mind. As the anniversary of Prim's death drew closer, she'd realized that keeping on top of her schoolwork and going to class were the only things that stopped her from hiding under her covers and staying out of sight.

She had never expected the experience to fill her with such a sense of purpose and satisfaction, though.

Over the last few months, she had started to feel like almost anything was possible, like a new life and a new future were within her grasp. She couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so motivated or inspired by something other than staying alive. She couldn't explain how she could find nourishment in something that wasn't food, or how everything she'd learned just made her hungry for more. She found she was famished for knowledge and parched for answers. She wanted to explore and question everything; not out of worry or distrust, but out of simple curiosity.

She yearned to understand the world around her, to make sense of the new country that was developing right in front of her eyes. Even if she hadn't meant to, she had played a big part in the events that had given birth to this "new Panem" everyone was always talking about. She needed to see what all those tragedies, which had left such a big void in her life, had bought.

She devoted her days to learning. During the morning she'd go to school, joining Peeta and hundreds of other teenagers from all over Panem, as they took part in the long-distance learning program. The program was designed to reach those communities which had lost their schools as a direct result of the war. Most of the classes were filmed in District Three and then transmitted via satellite to those communities that required them. Districts Eight, Five and Six had many students. District Twelve only had a handful.

After school, she always went for a walk in the forest. Sometimes she'd hunt. But there were days when she'd simply walk around and enjoy the peace and comfort only her woods could provide, before going back into the town and its busy life.

On most nights, after the schoolbooks and all remnants of dinner had been cleared away, she settled in front of the fireplace. A full kettle of freshly brewed tea, a stack of parchment sheets, a good pen, and Peeta's paintbox and brushes were always laid out on top of the coffee table. Ready to be used.

On most nights, Peeta would leave the comfort of his own fireplace to sit by her side, a paintbrush held securely in his hand, and help her reminisce. They'd talk about the people they knew, the people they loved and the people they missed. They honored each and every one of them by painting and writing about them, by speaking their names, and by keeping them present in their minds.

Sometimes, Peeta's own demons claimed him, and he stayed away. On those nights, she'd sit by the fire and while the hours away as she listened to music or pretended to read a book, leaving their memory book untouched for the night.

She hated those nights.

She hated neglecting her loved ones when there was still so much work left to be done. But, more than anything, she hated that Peeta still wanted to fight on his own, that he still felt like he couldn't be trusted around her when one of his episodes hit. She worried, deep down, he might still be afraid of her. The thought never failed to bring tears to her eyes. The notion that he might never trust himself enough to spend a night with her hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Having him by her side made her feel capable and strong. He'd always inspired her to be better, to do better. She hated that she couldn't do the same for him. Most days weren't like that, though. He had benefitted from the routines and small challenges they faced every day just as much as she had.

Peeta had come back into her life as the early spring showers melted the last traces of snow. She had been shocked at first, to find him there, to discover he didn't want to let go of his roots, and he wanted to build a better tomorrow for those who had survived. His determination inspired her and, before long, she began to think that everything had happened for a reason, that things could be good again.

As days turned into weeks, they developed a quiet friendship, full of shared moments, heavy with confessions and deep dark secrets that were whispered under the cover of night.

The spot in front of her fireplace became their sanctuary, a place where they knew they were safe. A place where nightmares could be exchanged for dreams if they were brave enough to share them.

They had other friends, interacted with other people, but there was this unbreakable bond between them, which ran deeper than anything they could share with anyone else. It wasn't because they'd gone into two arenas together, or because they'd been engaged or even because they'd experienced so much loss; but because they'd survived. They'd been broken and burnt, but as the wounds on their bodies healed, so did their souls. Constructing these new lives together was what made them strong. So they worked as one, always mindful of each other's space, but also making sure that no one was being left behind.

Katniss looked at the notebook she had been writing in for the last hour. She was pretty sure the two full pages she'd written on inherited human traits were enough to explain why some people were incapable of rolling their tongues.

"Hey Peeta, can you roll your tongue?"

"Um, sure," he said as he proceeded to demonstrate, going cross-eyed as his blue eyes tried to see what his tongue was doing. She laughed.

"What!" he demanded.

"Nothing. Do you need a mirror?" she offered, trying to keep her giggling under control.

"Ah. Ha ha. I just hadn't done that in a while. How about you, can you roll your tongue?"

"Yeah." She poked her tongue right out of her mouth and rolled it, making sure to keep her eyes trained on his face. "See?"

Peeta chuckled lightly and nodded.

"So, do you think this is enough?" she asked, turning her notebook towards him so he could look at the notes she'd written.

He examined the notebook for a moment and nodded. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure that's plenty."

Suddenly, Peeta got up from his chair and pushed the chart he'd been working on over to her side of the table.

"Here, have a look," he said, as he moved to settle by her side.

She pushed her notebook out of the way and focused her attention on the large poster board that lay in front of her.

Peeta leaned towards the table, resting his elbows on the tabletop just a hairsbreadth away from her.

She wiggled slightly in her seat. Trying to keep her attention on the paper he'd spread out before her and not on the scent of freshly baked bread and spices which seemed to follow him wherever he went. She failed miserably.

She reached out for the diagram he'd drawn. Her fingers traveled over the white cardboard, softly tracing the elegant lines of what was probably just a preliminary sketch. He always did that; she thought, turn something practical into something beautiful without even thinking.

She turned towards him and was startled by his proximity. He was right there, so close that she could see the flecks of grey that outlined his blue eyes and feel his warm breath on her skin. She was paralyzed, trapped by his gaze, unable to break away from the sea of blue which threatened to swallow her whole.

Damn those recessive genes of his!

Her heart was pounding madly inside her chest, and she was practically gasping for air. She felt like she was about to pass out. Her muddled brain sounded like a broken record that played one single word over and over.

Peeta.

She closed her eyes and leaned towards him, finally erasing the distance between them.

His lips were soft and warm, and they welcomed hers immediately. Time stood still as he bit her upper lip, nibbling gently on the tender flesh.

The entire world melted away. She was floating, weightless. Tethered to the ground by the soft pressure of Peeta's lips. She felt his hand tangling in her hair, pulling her closer to him and she sighed, breathless, into his mouth.

She wanted to get closer to him, to feel his warmth encasing her. But she was still sitting on a chair while he was still standing. She brought her hand to his cheek. The feel of soft stubble under her fingertips made her smile. This is real, she thought, we're not in the Capitol anymore. Her thumb kept tracing circles along his jaw as she gently pushed him away from her. His eyes were unfocused, surprised, disbelieving, and her heart ached for him.

"Katniss?" he whispered, an edge of panic in his voice.

She smiled at him tenderly. She looked straight into his eyes, trying to pour all the love she felt for him into her gaze. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper, not intended for anyone else but him.

"Real."

His face broke into the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. Something glowing and warm exploded inside her chest and spread throughout her body, and she remembered why she'd stopped kissing him. In one swift motion, she stood up, pushing the chair away from her with the back of her knee. Peeta followed her motions. His hand never leaving its place at the back of her head as he pulled her towards him. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on to his sturdy frame as she stood on the tips of her toes and reached for his lips once more.

They had kissed many times before, but never like this. They had been tributes, trying to convince an audience; or victors, trying to convince a president. But they'd never been just a boy and a girl, kissing out of love, until now.

The sensation was familiar, and she rejoiced in the warmth and comfort only Peeta's touch could provide. But, there was something about the way he held her against him -digging his fingers into her waist and pulling her impossibly close- that felt completely new.

Their hands kept them pressed together as their lips danced over lips and cheeks, and traveled along necks and brows; as they nipped earlobes and sucked on pulse points. There were sighs and moans, and whispers followed by soft laughter and joyful tears.

By the time they broke apart, a mess of swollen lips, tangled hair and rumpled clothes, the day had turned into night.

His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb traced the outline of her smile.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time, you know?" he confessed with a sweet smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's just… I wasn't sure. I didn't know if you wanted it too, and I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to pressure you."

She nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "I've wanted to do this for a long time too."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Me? Have you met me? When have I been able to talk about these things?"

"I don't know!" He chuckled, clearly amused by their new circumstances. "So, are you telling me we could have spent the last couple of months doing this" he leaned forward, leaving a soft peck on her cheek, "instead of that?" His raised eyebrows directed her attention to the stacks of papers and books that still covered the table.

"Well, what's wrong with that?" she asked, gesturing towards the table; feeling suddenly defensive of the time they'd been spending together there. She had enjoyed every minute of it.

"Nothing's wrong with that" he said, as he tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But, honestly, it would have been easier to get my schoolwork done if I hadn't been so distracted by you."

His words made her feel lightheaded. Or was it the way he was looking at her, like she was an oasis in the middle of a desert.

She released a shaky laugh and closed the distance between them once more. "Are you calling me a distraction, Mellark?"

He pulled her into his arms. His lips brushed the shell of her ear and he whispered, "yes, I am. And, I'd like to stay distracted for the rest of my life. If you'll allow it."

A sudden rush of warmth ran through her body touching every inch of her being. She closed her eyes and burrowed deeper into Peeta's arms. She could feel his heart beating against her cheek, his quick pulse matching her own. And she smiled; still unsure of how this had happened. She had never considered herself lucky. But at that moment, with Peeta's arms tightly wrapped around her, she felt like the luckiest person on earth.

"I'll allow it," she whispered into his chest.

His lighthearted chuckle rang in her ears and she felt him shake in her arms. She pulled away slightly. He was beaming, his eyes were bright and clear and his smile was as radiant as the sun. How had she made her way back to this happy place, she wondered. And how had she managed to bring him along with her?

It didn't really matter, she realized. The how and the when, all that mattered was that they'd found each other. In the darkest of places, and under the most terrifying of circumstances, they'd kept each other safe. They'd made each other strong. And they had stubbornly refused to let go. After everything they'd lost, weren't they entitled to a bit of peace and a slice of happiness?

Peeta's lips found hers once more and she melted into his kiss. All sense of reality, time and space ceased to exist.

Outside, stars pierced the night sky. Haymitch's geese honked happily, and a mother called her children to dinner. But Katniss and Peeta didn't notice any of it. They were too busy exploring every inch of each other's skin to worry about anything else.

Their books and homework were left forgotten on the kitchen table. Some things could wait for another day.

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AN: I want to thank FanficAllergy, RoseFyre, titania522 and whatamiyourwife for taking the time to help me out.

Without them this little fic would have been nothing but an incomplete mess.

I love kudos and comments as much as Buttercup loves Prim. You always make my day when you share them with me. Thanks!

You can also find me on tumblr. I'm javistg over there, come and say hi!

The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.