**Some events will be changed from what occurred in the book. It's fiction, remember! Enjoy.**
"K-" "K-".
He could barely say my name. His lips quivered in anticipation of something deeper. More sincere. Like saying my name once could never encompass how he truly felt about me. I had never felt so accomplished or flattered in my life. I wouldn't let this be like Rue. I would save his life and it would stay saved. It would be us again together. I firmly took his forearm and he grabbed onto me weakly. He was losing his strength. I could still see his muscles, but they weren't like before. Not as chiseled, not as defined. I pulled him up. It was time to start taking care of him. We walked, or rather I walked and he used my agile body for support, until we found a cliff with a cutout - a cave.
The cave didn't look artificially formed. I knew right away it was a natural rock formation, like the ones from back home. The memories flooded over me of the mountainous terrain back in 12. Like the grounds I walked over to get past the unarmed boundaries of my state- my prison.
"Come on," I said to him, "Just up this hill and we'll be safe in here."
He looked at me and I just knew. He needed help. He needed it direly. There was an unspoken language between us. Between our little tics and our mannerisms, the way he subtly raised our eyebrows or adjusted his jawbone; I always knew how he felt, and I thought that was beautiful.
And the I looked at him and I bit my lip ever so slightly, and I just hoped that he understood. If the capitol wanted their show, if Panem wanted to see romance, if Seneca Crane desired people to be watching, then so be it. It had to look natural, a kiss. It couldn't look like I was insinuating something to him in order to get sponsors; this lesson was #1 here. To me, I just needed to have some way to nurse Peeta back to health. I couldn't let him die - I wouldn't. Our lips met, and I saw Peeta had closed his eyes and opened his mouth for me. I quickly closed mine too. I hadn't kissed anyone before, not like this, and I silently resented the unfortunate irony that my first, and possibly only time kissing a boy would be broadcasted live the the whole nation. Our tongues touched. It was weird for me. Slimy and gross at first. But then Peeta began to move his tongue, intertwine it with mine, and it all felt natural and right, like things were falling into place. Peeta's kisses became more desperate, more passionate. I tried to keep up with his emotion, but to him this was all so real, and to me, though I felt we were so much the same, I could not say I loved him. For me, this was above all a survival tactic, and I had to keep my composure so that I could survive. Still, I continued to convince myself this was an act, standing there at the bottom of the hill, nipping at his lips and reveling in the feeling of his hands gripping the curve of my hips. I didn't know what to think.
For the first time in my life, I just felt, and I did.