T/N- Wow, I am so sorry I left you guys hanging, but I've had a hectic week, and I've been working on my promptsinpanem challenge for tumblr (which is next week) so that's why I haven't updated this! However, this is good news for you because it also means I'm posting new one-shots soon! Another thing that I would like to clarify is that there won't be any smut in this fic for a few more chapters, and I can't just speed it up because it's not my story. However, it builds up to it quite intensely! Enjoy!

The rest of the day was uneventful. After we ate, Peeta went to take some stew to Haymitch, and he spent the entire afternoon there. As for me, I picked up our memory book and began writing a new page. I dedicated this one to the stupid cat who was sleeping on the sofa right now. I would never admit it out loud, but I owed a lot to that sack of fur and bones. He had made Prim smile more than once, all he had had to do was rub against her legs to make my little sister stop crying. And now, strangely enough, he was helping me.

When he came back, I hated him because he had come looking for her, he had called for her insistently, he had spent whole nights meowing and scratching Prim's bedroom door. And those plaintive meows made me go mad as I sobbed while I heard him night after night. But later, those mewls began to diminish, I would only hear them on certain occasions, especially at night, when the nightmares would wake me up. For that at least, I was grateful.

A few nights after Peeta came back, the damned cat came back to mewl persistently , waking me up like he had all the other nights before that, except for one thing; that night, for the first time, I had been having a happy a dream. I had gotten up angrily and picked up the cat by the scruff, determined to twist his neck without any consideration. But when I raised my hand to do so, he took me between his paws and licked me with his rough tongue. I stared at him for a second, and then burst into tears. But instead of hissing at me and then running away as he usually did, he came closer and rubbed himself against my legs, just like he used to do with Prim. I sobbed even harder, but ever since then I couldn't keep thinking of getting rid of him.

I decided to write all of this in the book, little by little, with my best handwriting, and later on when Peeta got home, I asked him to draw Buttercup.

That night, I cooked a delicious squirrel stew, using the same basic recipe that was used to cook the Capitol lamb stew, except that lamb was scarce in Twelve, so I used a squirrel, which was Peeta's idea since he was the cooking expert, while I , well, I was merely an apprentice. We dined over Peeta's typical jokes and touches. Touches that ultimately made me melt, noticing how the skin on the nape of my neck bristled every time his fingers brushed some neglected part of my neck, and I couldn't help but smile like a fool as I stared down at me plate.

I went to bed shortly before Peeta, waiting for him to arrive and hold me safely against his chest. I kissed him there and stroked him gently with my eyes closed. Meanwhile, Peeta was tangling his fingers in my hair, forming curls, providing me with a sensation of warmth and comfort. And that's how I had allowed sleep to overtake me.

I don't know how long I had slept when I woke up, but it was still dark. I turned around, looking for Peeta so that I could use his chest as a pillow, but the other side of the bed was cold. I felt a slight oppression on my chest and I turned on the light. Obviously, the only person who was in the room was me. I tried to calm down, repeating to myself that Peeta was probably in the bathroom. I left the light on and I covered myself as I tucked my legs in. It was a horrible feeling of restlessness to not have him beside me in bed, I needed him by my side; I need his soft breathing as a lullaby, I even needed the soft snores that he emitted when he was profoundly sleep. I began to shiver and huff with my eyes closed tightly.

I counted the seconds, one, two, three…I bit my lip, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, why was I so stupid? I finally pulled away the sheets and went towards the bathroom. There was no light beneath the door. The tightness I felt in my chest came back. Why had he left? Why had he abandoned me again? Fortunately, something inside me made me look towards the stairs, where a soft reflection of orange light climbed over them. I sighed in relief and followed the light that was coming from below the stairs.

The light was coming from the living room, and from the intensity of it I deduced that it was coming from the lamp beside the sofa. I leaned on the wall frame and stayed there as I observed Peeta, who was sitting on the comfortable sofa with a thin book in his hand. I could tell from the look on his face that it was probably very interesting. He flipped the pages rapidly with his mouth half open, every once in a while making a strange face as he stared at a particular page longer the rest. It must have been very fascinating, for I had been staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, and he still hadn't noticed my presence.

I coughed lightly as I entered the living room. He looked at me, scared, almost as if I were some disgusting mutt, with his eyes wide and his mouth even more open than before. He quickly hid the book behind him and picked up the cushion on the sofa, placing it on his lap. I backed away, taking a step back, his reaction had frightened me, I had no doubt that he would launch for my neck any second.

"Peeta?" I stammered. "You're having one of your attacks, real or not real?"

"What? NO! Katniss…no…no…not real, of course not," he seemed nervous.

"Well then, what's wrong? What are you hiding?" I stepped closer, but he blocked my view, covering the thin book with his body.

I didn't hesitate as I threw myself against him so that I could get a hold of that blasted object of discord that was being protected by Peeta's strong body right now. I managed to grab it, but he did too, and we began to struggle. I pulled hard on it with both hands, but he pulled even harder with only one while he held on to the cushion that was between us with the other one. I ended up astride Peeta, pulling on the book with all of my strength, but the paper was slippery and my hands were losing firmness, so I had to keep inclining forward so that I could get a better hold of it. Peeta didn't seem like he was going to let me get away with it, and I didn't understand it, it was just a stupid book that we were fighting over like two kids do over a toy. I made a more intense tug, and was able get the book at the same time that I lost my balance.

I fell on my back with a soft thud against the carpet, but with the accursed book in my hands. I glared at Peeta, who was looking at me again with his mouth open.

"Katniss, it's not what it looks like…" I raised an eyebrow, looking at him suspiciously.

I regained my composure on the floor, and even though my rear was stinging, I stayed sitting. I looked at the front cover of the book. There was a full-colored photo on it of a woman in her underclothes. Her ensemble was an intense black color, yet completely transparent, since you could see her breasts and crotch through the cloth. I read the title of the supposed book: "Hot Chicks." The air left my lungs, and I looked up at Peeta. I didn't understand anything.

"Katniss…I didn't…Haymitch…"

"SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!" I snapped as I looked again at the book.

I took in some air, gathering courage as I opened it. A choked cry came out of my throat. There were no words on that page, not even a semi-naked woman. There, also in full color, was an enormous photograph of a huge penis penetrating a flushed feminine sex. I threw the thin book on the floor. I was sure that my face was emitting its own light from how red and ardent it was, even my ears were burning.

"I can explain…Haymitch gave me that magazine…I didn't want to—"

"And yet…" I gasped, "You were looking at it…"

"Out of curiosity."

I sighed, I didn't know what to say, I didn't understand why Peeta, the nice and sweet boy with the bread had been looking at that "magazine" with multiple pictures of semi-nude women and couples making love. What were his intentions? Did he like looking at them? That was disgusting. I looked at him in the eyes, I couldn't decipher them at this moment, but his blonde eyebrows were raised at the center as he furrowed his brow. I caught a glimpse of…guilt? Repentance? Embarrassment? It was possibly a mix of all three.

"He just thought that it would help us to…"

"To nothing, Peeta! I don't want that kind of help!"

Without being able to stand it anymore and without knowing how the hell pictures like that could help us, I ran out of the room towards the bedroom and got in bed, slipping the covers all the way up over my head. I didn't understand anything; this, what Peeta and I had, was becoming more difficult, as opposed to what I had thought. I had stupidly assumed that the affection that we shared would make things easier, that his kisses and touches would be our everyday bread, that we would never fight…great, what better timing than to realize now that I had been thinking like a little fairytale princess, which I had sadly enough stopped believing in a long time ago.

A/N-Thank you so much for reading, even if you don't review, and thank you so much for all the new favorite alerts!

T/N- How dare Peeta look at porn and not share it with us? Haha, is it sad that those were my only thoughts? What did you guys think? Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Leave love!