"I was trying to kill all of you," I say. "You had me treed."

"Later, there's a lot of kissing. Didn't seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?" he asks.

"We were on camera," I say. "Everyone was watching. All of Panem was watching." I can't keep the edge of desperation out of my voice. "And I was worried. About you, about me, about my family back home."

"What about Gale?" he asks.

I make a heroic effort not to snap at him that leaves me biting my lip. At last I say quietly, "Gale… Gale could never… replace you."

His eyes soften a bit. "Never?"

I shake my head. "Never," I whisper. And in that moment I know it's true.

He looks at me for a bit longer, and I'm just about to leave when he says, "I have this memory that I loved you once."

"You did," I say, and my voice catches.

He must hear the tremor in my voice. I'm not sure, but I think I see the old Peeta, gentle, just for a moment. He beckons with a finger, the only part of his arm he can move, and I creep closer, not sure what to expect. "Maybe…" he starts, haltingly, his forehead creased. "Maybe I… still do." He gives himself a shake. "But I can't tell. There are too many memories…" He trails off and a look of pain crosses his face.

I slowly place my hand on his, wanting to help so badly it hurts, but unable to do anything. He jumps and I pull away. "I'm sorry," I gasp, "Are you hurt?"

"No," he says, "No, it's okay."

Ever so gently, I slip my hand back on top of his. Then I say so quietly it's barely a whisper, "Remember… we're madly in love, so you can kiss me anytime you like." I look to his eyes to see his reaction.

He looks confused for a moment, and then something seems to click. "Did I say that?" he asks, confused.

I nod. "In our first Games."

He thinks about it. Then he says, out loud, "Lean down."

I hesitate. "Will you promise not to try to kill me this time?" I say wryly.

"I promise."

So I lean down, slowly, giving him plenty of time to reconsider. My eyes close automatically, but I can still feel his gaze on me. "Stay here," I whisper, although I'm not sure why. He's not going anywhere.

"Always," he murmurs, and it's like my chest has been filled with sunlight. Warm. Reassuring. Then our lips brush, briefly, gently, soft as a moth's wings. I straighten up, searching his eyes for the boy who kissed me in the cave. He flips his hand over so that his fingers interlace with mine, and we both smile, but then a cloud covers his face again.

"I know you're still in there," I say, not even bothering to hide my tears anymore, "And I'm going to do everything in my power to get you back."

"Why?" he asks, his grip on my hand disappearing.

I take a step back and reply, "Because I love you." Then I flee from the room.