A/N: I don't want any of you to hate me so here's another chapter. And to the reviewer who told me something about a conversation on the phone, you're in luck. It was exactly what I wrote after her phone call with her mom.

Fall is slowly turning into winter, the breeze much colder now. And me, being stubborn as ever, did not wear anything to protect myself from the cold. The stone I'm leaning on has warmed, most likely because of my back, but it isn't enough for me to stop shivering. Finally I decide to head back, my stomach's rumbling. I shoot two squirrels on my way and cook them once I got home.

After the phone call with my mom, I felt better. Much sure of my feelings now. And because I've worked it all out, I miss him even more terribly. So to stop myself from crying my eyes out, I went to the woods. That didn't work either, because on my way I accidentally stepped on three branches—yes I counted them—and the sound reminded me of Peeta's gait. Of Peeta. The weather's too cold to stay outside, too. Now I'm back in our house, sitting idly on the couch again, just as I did before the sun shone.

I've never really looked at our house. Yes, I see it every day but I've never really took notice of how the walls are almost the same color as the glaze Peeta's cheese buns have, a shade of cream, or how the couch is a dark shade of green, the bookshelves are mahogany. This brings a memory to my mind's surface, Effie chastising me after I've driven a butter knife into a table while we're on our way to the Capitol for our first Games. It makes me smile. I skim my eyes over the few books encased on the shelf beside the television. My eyes focus on a familiar spine of a book, too familiar. I take it and look at the things written and drawn in it. A mix of Everdeen's and Peeta's.

This plant book was created so as not to forget how to survive, which herbs are medicinal, which berries to avoid, which can be eaten or not. It has helped us a lot, more than I ever thought it would. Because when I was little, the thought of my father leaving us and having to fill his shoes at twelve never really crossed my mind. The anger I had for my mom comes back to me, but I don't let it return fully. She's said sorry. I've forgiven her. I hope she has forgiven herself, too.

An idea starts to form in my head, a book just like this to help us remember those who have fallen, those who are worthy of recognition. Peeta can draw them if we can't find a picture to place, I can write their stories.

I promise myself I'd tell Peeta this once he gets home. A glance at the clock informs me it's 7 in the evening. I need to eat if I still want to be alive when he comes home. I manage to find a can of stew inside one of the kitchen cabinets and a loaf of bread on one of the counters. I got so caught up in my bubble of worry and misery that I didn't notice this. Turns out Peeta left me a note and a loaf before he went. The note reads, Eat, okay? Don't starve yourself. I'll be home before you even know it.

Peeta, you have no idea how wrong you are. Every second, minute, hour that goes by when you're not with me is deeply and painfully felt. I wish you were here. You—

The phone is ringing.

For a moment, I'm nervous, then the idea of Peeta calling me comes on my mind and excitement fills me. I pick the phone up and bring it to my ear, "Hello?"

"Hey, Katniss."

It's him. God, it's him. "Peeta!"

He laughs and I swear, I think it's become my favorite sound. "Hello there, everything okay?"

"Yeah, so far, I'm alright. You?"

"Things are okay, too. Tests are done, results out," he says.

"And?"

"They say I'm improving, getting better, quicker than they first guessed."

"That's great news, Peeta."

"Yeah, I think they have to thank a certain Ms. Everdeen for that."

I giggle. "So how was your day?" I ask.

"Nothing much, I guess… Oh, wait! For dessert at dinner we had this pastry of some sort, it's like a cross between a macaroon and a cookie. It's good, you should try it sometime."

"If I could, then I would, Peeta. I'd love to."

"And so you shall."

"How?" I ask. "I can't leave the district yet, remember?"

"Well, the chef here told me that they don't usually hand out recipes to people who ask for them, but I talked him into it."

"Oh my God! Seriously?"

"Yeah, apparently, my ability with words can be pretty useful."

"You can be pretty charming when you wanted to, you know?"

He chuckles. "What about you? How was your day?"

I smile at this. His concern is gladdening. "I called my mom today."

"Really? How did it go?"

"Better than expected. We're best friends now." I joke.

"You're replacing me?" I can imagine him pouting his lips. I laugh at the image in my head.

"Yes, you're going to have to find another title. Soon, I suggest."

"Oh, I will. I am not walking out of your life, Everdeen!"

We laugh, together. It feels great.

"Oh, before I forget, my train's been changed. I can leave here tomorrow."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, now, don't sound too disappointed." He chuckles. "But yeah, the train should arrive there at around…" I hear papers shuffling, probably the printouts of his ticket. "… 6pm? Yes, 6pm."

"I'll be waiting for you." I smile when I say this. "Oh, and I have a surprise for you when you get home."

"You're making me so excited!" he yells. The image of him yelling and smiling alone in his room while talking to me makes me laugh. "Can I get a clue?" he asks.

"No, you'll have to wait."

"God, you do know how to tease people, don't you?"

"Maybe I do," I tell him. A door opens somewhere in his room. I hear his voice, talking to someone. He's covered the mouthpiece so I can't hear much.

"Hey, Katniss. I need to go now. An attendant here just told me it's almost lights off."

"Oh," I feel annoyance building up in me but I disregard it. "That's okay. You're probably tired, anyway."

"Good night, Katniss," he says.

"Good night, Peeta."

"See you tomorrow," he whispers.

"See you tomorrow." The line goes silent. Why do they have to cut our conversation short? Something clicks. I think he's put the phone down. So I silently add, "I miss you."

A voice answers, his voice, "I miss you, too."

Then the line's cut. It's lights off.

Surprisingly, or maybe not really, I wake up the next day happy. No screaming and thrashing last night. It amazes me how Peeta can drive away nightmares even when he's miles and miles away. I eat breakfast for the first time in three days, I think. For almost the whole day I repeat the lines in my head, or actually I construct the lines in my head I'd be telling Peeta when he gets here.

"Peeta, when you were gone, I had some time to think, I don't know if you feel the same way about me…"

It doesn't sound right, it's like I'm so clueless, so numb, that I'm not sure if he feels the same way about me.

I decide to just leave it. Words aren't my forte, that's Peeta's. I'm more known for my actions, oftentimes so compulsive that before I even know it I've started something I never wanted to happen.

I go out the meadow and pick some mint leaves for some tea tonight, Peeta likes mint tea more than those that come in packs from the Capitol. I shoot three squirrels, too, and cook it the way Peeta likes it.

Originally, I planned on wearing a dress for tonight but I guess the odds aren't in my choice of clothes' favor. So instead I wear a dark long-sleeved shirt, a sweater on top of that, a normal pair of pants, and my hunting boots. I braid the top half of my hair into a ponytail of some sort, then I leave the lower half down. It should help keep my neck warm.

Half an hour before 6, I head for the train station. I don't remember packing a coat or a sweater for Peeta, so I bring one for him. Sae spots me and gives me a wave. I wave back.

When I get to the station, I still have five minutes to spare. I spend it counting the people present in the station. Then, Steve, the stray dog almost everybody in here knows, comes up to me and I give his head a pat. I check the time table and I see that Peeta's train is set to arrive a bit later than expected due to some small problems in the schedule. Effie wouldn't be proud.

I spend probably five more minutes looking around just to kill time. Then a voice says, "Train from the Capitol bound for District Twelve is now arriving. Please stay away from the tracks. I repeat, stay away from the tracks. Thank you." I jump up at this announcement and walk towards the arrival section. The train halts to a stop and then the doors open. I stand up on my tiptoes and try to spot him.

Why is almost everybody blonde?

I almost give up but then a particularly tall blond boy, holding two leather briefcases, one on each hand, and is shivering, catches my eye.

"Peeta!" I yell.

The boy I'm looking at turns his head and I see that it is him. His face lights up and I make a run for him. He opens his arms to catch me, and I'm laughing. I'm laughing because he is here. His arms envelope me, and it feels so good there are tears threatening to fall from my eyes. I hug him tighter and he does, too.

"I missed you," I say, my head buried in his neck.

"I missed you, too," he says.

He lets go of me and shivers. I laugh and throw him his coat.

"Thanks," he smiles and puts it on. He pulls me in for another hug, a hug tighter than the previous one and for a second I worry I might get crushed. Before that happens though, he releases me again, his hands drifting down to my waist. My eyes meet his, and I feel something… moving, almost dancing in my chest. For every second it gets stronger, until I'm overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him. A part of me reasons I shouldn't, then I remember that I'm supposed to tell him how I feel about him. Kissing him should send the same message, right?

So I do. The moment my lips meet his, he freezes, and I'm nervous he doesn't want this, that he doesn't feel the same way about me. But then he relaxes and kisses me back.

We pull away for air, not looking at each other, or at least I'm not. I risk it though, only to see him looking at me like I'm the most wonderful piece of bread he's ever seen. Seriously, Katniss. Piece of bread?

He blinks rapidly, shaking himself out of… shock?

"What was that for?" he finally asks.

"Um, surprise?" He laughs, really laughs, like he can't believe what just happened, then stares at me in disbelief.

"Can we do it again? I wasn't prepared." Now it's me who laughs.

"Well, you shouldn't be! It was a surprise after all."

He smiles, then asks, "What brought this… change?"

"I told you, I called my mom."

A chuckle, "I think you should call her more often."

A small white snowflake gets caught in Peeta's eyelashes. A snowflake. I look around and can't believe what I see. It's snowing. When I look back at Peeta, I see that he's seen it, too. Hundreds of snowflakes land all around us, and in minutes they've given everything in sight a light dusting of white.

I punch him playfully, "Come on, let's go home before we freeze."

We walk hand in hand, I've offered to carry his lighter suitcase because I know Peeta won't budge if I've offered to carry a suitcase, then he would start going on about chivalry and gentlemanliness and how he was brought up by his father. As we're walking, I look at Twelve. Now everything's covered in snow, and it reminds me of the gingerbread town with a light dusting of sugar I saw in one of Peeta's cookbooks that came from the Capitol. I tell him this and he asks me if I want to make one for Christmas. It's an event we haven't celebrated in years, because it just seems too festive, considering the circumstances, of course. Giving gifts, cooking tons of food, celebrating. Our way of living wasn't exactly one for celebrating. I still tell him yes, because he seemed so excited about it.

The Victors' Village comes into view and I hear him sigh beside me. "Home sweet home," says Peeta.

Home. It has only been… what? 2 months since we first acknowledged each other? 3? 4? I don't know but if it ranges from that, we've transformed our house into a home fast. Sometimes I'm amazed at how quick things developed between the two of us, even years before, dating back to the bread. Peeta and I haven't spoken at all when he threw that to me when we were starving, yet he claimed that he did that because he loved me then. I was ready to put my life at stake for his even if we've only known each other formally for less than a month. Hell, we even got engaged. Then after a year, I was ready to sacrifice myself for him. I couldn't function without him when we were in Thirteen. I spent nights crying myself to sleep when he wasn't there to comfort me. I was deeply hurt when he hated me. In fact, I was so hurt I started to hate him, too. I didn't… I couldn't let him go when we were out on the battlefront on the streets of the Capitol. I knew he wanted to, but I wasn't strong enough to do that. And all that from more than a year of letting himself into my life? It's plain outrageous. Gale… he can't even compete with Peeta now, even after years of relying on each other. Maybe that's why I couldn't let myself love Peeta. Because everything happened so, so suddenly, and so, so intensely. Maybe because I was scared, letting people become a part of my life isn't something I do frequently. Most of the time it's me who has the final say, who gets to choose the people to let in. But no, not Peeta. He did all that himself. I wonder how he did it so easily. But there's also a chance that it's because I allowed him. I gave him a chance to be a part of my life, my routine. Maybe back then I unconsciously wanted to? It doesn't matter, what matters is that now I want him to.

I need him to.