I was reading a book when Peeta came back. I was quite impressed - he was only gone for approximately thirty-eight minutes. I am still reading my book, but I am also now waiting impatiently for him to finish. The splendid smell, wafting upstairs from the kitchen, more than teases my nose. I wanted to go into the kitchen and help him, but he wouldn't allow it. Blondie won't even allow me out of my bed. So he leaves me here to suffer, while my poor stomach growls.

"Peeta! Are you almost done yet?" I call out, growing restless.

I hear his footsteps trek upwards. My door slowly opens, and Peeta peaks his head into my room. "You know you really shouldn't shout. It might give you a headache," he dares to lecture me.

"B-but I'm hungry " I whine like a small child.

This causes him to smile, which then causes me to smile. "Have no fear, Kat. It's almost done. I'll bring it up in " he checks his watch, "five minutes. Ok?"

"Ok," I whisper.

He gives me one more lingering smile, and then walks back down the stairs and into the kitchen. I can hear a couple pots and pans bang against each other, and I can only guess what's going on.

I hope he's not making a mess. Gale hates it when the kitchen gets dirty.

While I wait, I begin to wonder if having Peeta in my house cooking me lunch, while Gale is away at work, would be considered cheating. I don't think it is, because we don't do anything Romantic with each other. But the fact that I don't want Gale to find out about Peeta's home visits, might mean I feel guilty about it.

But do I feel guilty? Do I truly feel guilty about Peeta coming over? I think I'm more guilty about the concept of having a man I don't know over at my house, then actually having Peeta over.

I can now hear Peeta walk up the stairs, and a couple of dishes rattling. He walks over to me and lays a tray on my lap. I stare cravingly at the soup bowl, and pick up a spoon off the tray.

I glance up at Peeta, "Thank you so much! I think I might just love you."

Peeta's facial expression changes briefly, but then he's quickly able to regain his composure. "Eat up, you deserve it," he remarks.

I greedily submerge my spoon into the mouth-watering concoction. Once I am satisfied with the amount on my spoon, I lift it to my mouth and sip the soup off it. Delicious. Absolutely delicious. How I was able to survive for twenty-one years and not know what bliss tastes like is way besides me.

"I hope it's ok I'm afraid I might have left it on the stove too long," the genius cook says self-consciously.

"Ok? Oh my capitol, this is extraordinary! I didn't know it was even possible for food to taste this yummy," I praise him enthusiastically.

He blushes. I want to squeal out loud at his adorableness, but I have the sense to keep it in. Instead, I settle with making a satisfied moan.

"I don't know if I'd say 'extraordinary,'" he looks at his hands in complete humility.

"It's ok, you don't have to know. I know. I know that its extraordinary," I wish he wasn't so humble sometimes.

"Thanks, Katniss. I should be leaving now," my head snaps up to look at him.

"Why?" I grouse. I am not ready for him to leave yet.

"I would love to stay longer, but my shift at the bakery is about to start," he explains. "We actually have a few cake orders that I need to do. I'll see you later. Hopefully then, you'll be feeling better."

"I wish you could stay longer, but I guess duty calls. Bye Peeta, come visit me soon," I basically plead.

"Bye, Katniss," he whispers, and then he leaves.

I don't start eating again until I hear the front door click shut.


"Katniss, I'm home!" I am awakened at 10:45 by Gale's robust voice. "Oh hey! You made dinner!"

When I hear that, I become childishly upset. That soup wasn't made for him, Peeta made it for me. I hear some clicking and clanking noises, and then I hear Gale trample up the stairs. He bursts into our bedroom with a pleased smile on his face. His nose is a deep shade of pink, and it is adorned with a small bandage.

"Oh my lord! This soup is spectacular! When did you get so good at cooking?" I look at his hands and see that he's gripping onto his own bowl of soup.

"I don't know. I just decided to try a new recipe. I'm glad you like it," I lie.

"I don't like it, I love it. Whatever you did, you should keep doing it," this is the most praise I have received from Gale in a long while. Sadly, he's actually indirectly praising my favorite baker.

"Well I'm glad you like it," I say with a fake smile.

Maybe Peeta wasn't joking when he said that this will fix what happened with Gale. His soup has put him in the best mood I have seen him in this week.

"Catnip," he says while taking my hands into his own. "I want to talk about what happened last night."

"Talk about what?" I really do not want to have this conversation right now.

"Don't play dumb, you know what I'm talking about."

"Ok, what do you want to talk about then?" I concede.

"I just need you to understand why I lashed out at you. I was upset about hearing from my friend that you might be having an affair. You gotta understand where I'm coming from, there is nothing more humiliating than having a friend tell me that my wife is fucking an eighteen year old. I guess, I just sort of lost it." This is probably the closest Gale will ever come to apologizing to me.

I debate whether or not I should take advantage of his good mood - I decide that I should. "You scared me so much when you grabbed the knife," I whisper sadly.

"I wish I didn't have to do it. It won't happen again as long as I don't feel threatened," I think he's trying to sincerely comfort me.

He's terrible at it.

I simply nod my head at him and decide to change the subject, "You're in a really good mood tonight. Did something happen?"

I can see a glint in his eyes when he says, "Yeah, something happened. But don't worry about it. It doesn't concern you."

For some reason, maybe Peeta's intuition is rubbing off on me, his statement unnerves me.


Two Hours Earlier

I've been in a fantastic state of mind since my visit to Katniss' house. I worked happily through my shift without wanting to take a break. My brothers and dad all appreciated my extra hard work, because I would help them out with their own projects. Twenty minutes ago, my family left the bakery to run errands, hang out with friends, or go on dates. Today is my turn to close up the bakery.

I usually don't enjoy having to close up shop, it means I have extra work to do. But now, I'm thankful, because I plan on making strawberry mousse for Katniss. I have to make a large batch of strawberry mousses for tomorrow, so my parents won't notice if I make the batch just big enough for an extra mousse cup.

I hope she likes strawberries.

Life really is unfair. I have liked Katniss since I was in elementary school when I saw her sing in the middle school's choir. I don't think she even knew I was alive back then. That was hard for me, but then it got worse. When I entered high school, I fell head over heels in love. And then, then it got weird. I told my dad that I had a crush on her; in return, he decided to traumatize me my telling me he and Mrs. Everdeen were once engaged.

I thank my lucky stars every single night that Katniss and I are not siblings today.

It is now 8:55, I decide to close the bakery five minutes early. I casually stroll up to the door and flip the sign around so "closed" is displayed to the outside world. I then walk into the back of the bakery where we make all of our merchandise. I grab some strawberries, sugar, eggs, and heavy cream. I pour an exact amount of cream, to make 49 individual mousse cups, into a large, copper mixing bowl. As I start whisking the cream, I hear the bakery door open with a jingle.

"Sorry, we're closed for the night," I say as I walk into the room. Before I can stand behind the counter, I look at who entered, and I stop dead in my tracks.

"Oh, we're not here to buy anything. Don't worry. We're just here to have some friendly conversation," Gale Hawthorne says to me in a twisted voice. His face sports a devious smile.

I don't think I would have been so tense if only Gale was standing in front of me. Instead, two other tall, grungy men are standing to his sides.

"Did you come here to talk cookies?" I asked light heartedly.

I was trying to lessen the tension in the room, but it seems to only make them angrier.

"Shut the fuck up!" Gale screeches.

I'm taken aback a bit, but I'm able to swiftly gather myself again.

"Listen," he now says a bit more calmly. "I know that you and my girlfriend have been sneaking around my back. I'm here to tell you that I don't appreciate my girlfriend getting fingered by frosting fingers."

"Katniss and I have never done anything of that nature," I tell him with complete confidence.

"Listen," he says dangerously. "Leave my girl alone, and no one will get hurt."

"Are you threatening me?" I ask.

Gale walks up to me, and before I can react, he slugs me in the stomach. He then bends down and menacingly states, "No, I'm promising you."

He then gives me a swift kick before leaving the bakery with his friends.

While I lay on the tile floor, grasping my stomach, fear begins to take over my entire body. This fear is not felt for myself.

If he can casually attack me… I can barely bring myself to continue thinking. What has he done to Katniss?


Today, I am in a abnormally bright and cheery mood. I had no problems with Gale yesterday - he ate his soup and then he went straight to bed. This morning, he ate his breakfast and then headed off to work.

Today is going to be a good day. I think to myself as a turn the shower on. I have a coffee date with Peeta, later I have work, and then maybe I'll buy a cupcake from Peeta's bakery.

I hold my hand under the sprinkling water, and I wait for the temperature to rise. Our heating system is very bad. The water temperature will never rise above being barely warm. Once my hand is satisfied with the warmth, I strip all of my clothes and tentatively step inside the shower. The cuts on my back sting where the water droplets make contact with my skin, but overall I feel pretty relaxed. I reach for the ever slippery soap, and begin to wash any away any dirt from my body.

I wish I had the money to buy those fancy shower gels that they sell in town. I regrettably think to myself. For some reason, I feel the uncontrollable urge of wanting to smell exceptional for Peeta.

Now, my cuts are more irritated from the soap bubbles that are seeping into their crevices. I hurriedly try to wash them away; it's hard though, when I can't see where my hands are scrubbing. I scrunch up my nose and wrinkle my forehead when my left hand brushes, a little too hard, against a large bruise across my abdomen. That's what you get for loving the wrong man.

I finish taking my shower, and then I go to relieve myself. When I start to urinate, I feel an intense burning sensation. I'm caught off guard since I haven't had sex with Gale for a while now; in addition, even though it's pretty rough sex, I never felt such intense pain from peeing.

Maybe I have a UTI? I'm sure my mom has something for that. There is nothing worse than having the only healer in the Seam, be your mother.

"Katniss?" I hear a voice call from down stairs.

Because I'm upstairs inside a closed room, I can't tell who it is, but I put on my clothing very quickly.

"Katniss?" The voice now calls more urgently.

When I pull my shirt on over my head, I briskly jog down the stairs. I see a very unsettled Peeta sitting on my couch in the living room.

"What are you doing here?" I don't say this in a mean way, I'm just quite confused.

At the sound of my voice, Peeta turns his head to look at me, and I swear I can see relief wash over his face.

"Oh, thank god," he breaths out.

"Peeta what's going on?" I cautiously question.

Peeta looks apologetically at the front door and says, "Sorry for coming in like this. I knocked earlier, but no one answered. When I called your name, and no one answered, I began to freak out."

"Forget about that. What's wrong?" His strange behaviour is starting to scare me.

He looks at me as if he's trying to find something. He must have found what he was looking for, or gave up because he looks back at my face.

"Katniss? When did you get that bruise?" he gestures at me. "Right there on your right arm. Or the one on your neck?"

My hand flashes up to cover the bruise on my neck. How could I be so stupid? I forgot to put my cover-up on when I heard someone call my name, and now I have to explain these bruises.

I force a fake giggle from my mouth, "These bruises? I… I… Um. I was at work, and an out of control goat ran into me. Knocked be straight onto the ground!" I wince at my own pathetic excuse for a lie.

"Please don't get mad when I say this, and if I'm wrong I'm very sorry," Peeta apologizes. "Is the hypothetical goat's name Gale Hawthorne?"

I can literally feel my entire face turn white, and all the muscles in my body stiffen.

"W-what?" I choke out.

Peeta gives me a sympathetic smile. It's like he already knows the answer, but I don't understand how. He's only met Gale a few times before, and I don't think it would be enough for him to deduce that he's abusive.

"Of course not, what are you talking about?" I say this as if he just told the best joke ever.

"Um, well… Last night, Gale actually came to visit me at the bakery," I think my already white face just got paler.

"Gale d-did what?" I croak.

"Yeah, he came by the bakery with a couple of his friends…" he says too casually.

Gale's actions have taken me by surprise. I'm not sure if I should start apologizing to Peeta even though I have no idea if Gale did anything or not, but if Peeta is mentioning it then something had to have happened.

"Peeta what did Gale do?" I interrogated forcefully.

"It's not really a big deal, I'm just here to check up on-"

"What. Did. Gale. Do?" I interrupt him.

I watch Peeta's shoulders raise and then fall as he sighs.

"He told me that he doesn't like it when I hang out with you," I know he's not telling me everything.

"Anything else?"

I can tell that Peeta is having an inward debate with himself about whether or not he should tell me. Once he finishes deciding, he puts on a sour expression.

"Well, I might have taken a punch or two, but it's really no big deal," Peeta explains as he raises his shirt above his waist.

The kid is toned. I then see a reddish-purple colour on his lower abdomen, and I know all to well, from experience, that the color will only darken.

"Gale attacked you?" I almost shriek out.

Peeta winces at the sound of my voice. He looks around uncomfortably as he nervously scratches the back of his head.

He gives me a look, like he's struggling on telling me the truth, when he says, "Well maybe it wasn't really an attack. It was just a punch… and a … kick."

"I'm going to have to talk to Gale about this," I am pissed off. It's one thing for him to hurt me, but he is not allowed to harm my friends - especially Peeta who is six years younger than him.

"Katniss, please," Peeta gives me those too damn cute, puppy eyes. "I'm fine, really. I didn't come here to complain about what happened. I'm here to make sure that you're ok?"

I think that when Peeta woke up today he decided 'I'm going to go to Katniss' house today, and try to say as many things that will leave me tongue tied.

"Uh… what?" I asked confused.

"Uhm…" Peeta starts with an anxious voice. "Well, I don't want to make any… assumptions… But does, does Gale ever… Ah never mind. It's not important."

I know that he wanted to ask something, but I don't press him for details. There is always a chance that he wants to ask me about if Gales does to me what he did to Peeta. I don't know what I would say if he asked me that.

"Ok, well I'll make sure to talk to Gale about his late night visits. I am so, so sorry about what happened," I inform him.

"No, it's fine. I don't want to cause you any trouble. Don't worry about it," he tells me.

Peeta then lets out a small sigh and bids me a good bye. I try to ask him if he wants to come in and drink some tea, but he tells me that he's fine. Once he leaves, I decide that I should stop by at my mother's place. Today's Saturday so Prim should be out of school, maybe I'll bring her to the bakery. She loves Peeta's cakes.

I walk into my bathroom, and just as I'm about to go, I notice that my underwear is spotted with blood droplets.

This is weird. I swear I had my period just a week and a half ago. I've been pretty regular for many years now.

If I ever get the courage, I'll bring it up to my mother later today.


Several hours after thinking (about the Peeta/Gale situation) and milling around my house, I leave for my mom's place. It's awkward to talk to her about having a urinary track infection, but it has got to be done. This isn't the first time that I've needed one of her many remedies for my never regions; on the other hand, the last time I needed her help was seven years ago when I still lived with her. Ever since I've started having sex, it's uncomfortable to ask her personal questions about myself.

I walk on the dirt road, following all the twist and turns it makes. I can feel the edges of small pebbles through the worn down soles of my leather boots. The bottom of my boots have tattered squares of different color leather that I have sewn together to patch up my shoes.

I eventually find myself in front of my old home. It might just be my imagination, but for some reason, the house seems to emit an ominous ambiance.

Here goes nothing. I think uneasily.

I take the last few heavy steps to the front of the door, and knock. Then I wait. I fidget as I hear the sound of feet approaching the door. For some reason, I feel like I'm going to come home unhappy.

The door swings open, my mom is standing there with a warm smile on her face, "Hi, sweetheart! It's been so long."

"Hi, mom. How have you been?" My voice sounds rigid.

"I've been doing well, but what about you? Are you ok?" She looks worried. I know she picked up on my tone of voice.

"I've just been having a pretty bad day. But it'll work itself out," I answer hopefully.

"Is it trouble with Gale?" she questions.

Nail on the head, mom, nail on the head. She is too good at this.

I try to play it of coy, "What makes you say that?"

"Well, I'll have you know, I was once in a relationship too. Believe it or not, your father and I used to fight sometimes," she expertly replies.

"Yeah, i guess that's true… Can I come in?" I try to change the subject.

"Of course, honey. Come on in," she says as she steps to the side of the door.

I walk in and I take a seat on her couch, she sits next to me.

"So what's up?" She asks. She knows that I didn't come here to talk about my life. Ever since I moved in with Gale, I haven't stopped by here that often. I'm now feeling a little more than guilty about that.

"Well…" I start to say awkwardly, "this morning when I was going to the bathroom… I felt this intense burning pain. I think I might have a UTI. Do you have any medicine for that?"

My mom looks a little surprised from my request. I don't blame her since we aren't a really open family - I don't like to share my problems with her.

"Alright, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" She asks politely.

When did we ever become so formal with each other.

I nod my head as my 'yes' to her question.

"These might be a little personal so I'm sorry ahead of time," she warns.

Oh boy.

"Were you exposed to a large group of people in close quarters?"

"No," I reply, my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Have you been wet for a long period of time?"

"Um… You're going to have to elaborate on that one," I tell her, frazzled.

She blushes when she realizes her phrasing.

"Have you worn wet clothing for a long length of time?" She says a bit more prudently this time.

"Mm… Not that I can remember."

I really don't know what she is trying to get with all these random questions.

"When was the last time you've had sex?" She asks extremely quickly.

"Uh… Uhm… Er.. not recently?" I cough out uncomfortably.

"Ok, ok. Any other symptoms that you have been experiencing?" She asks me suspiciously as if she knows something that I don't know.

I decide to man up (or woman up) and tell her about the bleeding.

"Several hours earlier, I noticed some bleeding even though I just had my period recently," I honestly inform her.

Her face scrunches up as if she's very displeased with the news.

"Normally, that happens every once in a while to girls. It really isn't all that rare."

"So I'm alright? No cause for alarm?" I feel almost relieved.

"I would like to say yes, but if you combine this symptom with your earlier symptom…" She trails off.

"What? You can't not tell me now," I hate UTIs, but it won't be the end of the world.

"Sweetheart, I think you have… Gonorrhoea," she lets out the bomb.

"What? What makes you say that?" I feel like laughing because this is such an unrealistic situation. The only way I could have gotten it is if I had slept with other men, which I haven't.

My mother looks down at her hands anxiously. Her entire body language seems strange - something is off.

"What aren't you telling me?" We may not be a very close family, but I do know when she's keeping something important from me.

I know something is wrong when she refuses to meet my eyes.

"I don't know why, but I didn't think too much about it when he came by…"

"When who came by, mom?"

"Gale visited me two days ago, something about how he hasn't been feeling good."

"Gale did? He never told me about this." I say, surprised.

"I think it must have been to embarrassing for him even though you're his girlfriend."

Now I have to know why he came here.

"What did he have? A cold? I don't recall him sneezing."

"He told me about his symptoms just like you. Except his where an off-colored discharge from his penis and swollen testes. Those are the male symptoms of gonorrhoea."

"Oh. my. god." I gasp out. "He gave me gonorrhoea."

Then in an instant realization struck me full-force.

"Gale cheated on me!" I voice loudly. I am horrified.

"Now Katniss, lets not jumped to any conclusions."

"I'm not jumping on anything. There is no way he could have gotten an STD without sleeping around!" I feel so betrayed.

"What are you going to do?"

I am half way out of the door when she finishes her question.


I am so filled with fury at Gale's betrayal, that I don't realise I am at the Hob until I see Gale sitting on one of Greasy Sae's stools. "Gale! What the fuck Gale?! Your cheating on me!" I scream at him before I am aware that we have an audience. I can tell I have caught Gale off guard with my outburst. But he quickly composes himself and stands, trying to calm me down. "Baby, I can ex..." Gale tries before I punch him across the face. "Fuck you Gale, I'm leaving you. I hope you have a great life, fucking other girls because you raping me isn't enough!" I burst out, unaware of the people gawking. I turn and walk away.

"Baby, please. Now hold on. Can we at least talk about this?" Gale attempts coming after me but I just keep walking. "Katniss stop this! You have nowhere to go and you know it." I turn around and face Gale with a smug expression on my face. "I'll go stay with my mother and sister or maybe I'll even stay with Peeta..." I feel superior at Gale's displaced face. "No, I forbid you from staying with Bread boy, you little bitch." Gale grabs my shoulder and I all of a sudden spin around and punch him again. Gale, caught off guard, nearly goes down. "You can't make decisions for me anymore, you mother fucking piece of shit!" I launch myself at him, hitting and clawing at everything I can reach. Tears flowing. I feel heartbreak, anger and humiliation course through my veins. Gale stumbles backwards and tries to block the blows. "Stop...hitting...me" Gale manages to get out before deflecting my punch and lashing out at me. Gale punches me in the face. Hard. I drop to my hands and knees; I spit out blood. "Your insane, you know that right? Look what you made me do!" Gale tells me. "Come on, I'll get you some ice..." I spit blood in his face which seems to only enrage him even more because he backhands me, sending me slamming back down into the ground. Gale sits on my chest and hisses menacingly "You don't want to fuck me? Fine. When I'm done with you, nobody's going to want to fuck you, not even bread boy." Gale lifts his fist into the air for another hit when I hear a voice growl at Gale. "Hey. Leave her alone." I hear the impact of a boot to Gale's face, Gale's weight is lifted off of me and I look up to find Haymitch Abernathy, the drunken district 12 victor, standing over Gale. Haymitch looks dangerous, he even scares me for a minute. Haymitch starts beating Gale with his fists until he blacks out. Then he turns on me and offers me his hand. I take his hand and let him help me up. "Are you okay?" Haymitch asks me in concern. "I'm fine.. Thank you."

Haymitch smiles at me before turning to an unconscious Gale. "I'm going to take him to the Peacekeepers... Do you want to come with me?" Haymitch turns to me again, questioningly. In response, I look at Gale and give a slight nod. Haymitch picks up Gale and throws him over his right shoulder as if he weighed no more than a turkey; I follow immediately and walk side by side with Haymitch to the Peacekeepers post. Along the way, curiosity overtakes me and I start questioning Haymitch. "Why did you help me?" I suddenly blurt out. Haymitch scowls at the sky before answering me, "I wasn't going to let this dickhead beat up my best friends daughter, sweetheart." At my bewildered expression, Haymitch clarifies. "I was best friend's with your father, we would hang out around the hob and he would always bring you with him. I think he just wanted to show you off to the world. He really loved you, you were his pride and joy Katniss." Haymitch's words about my father brings tears to my eyes but I blink them away. I don't answer him but I guess he wasn't really expecting an answer as we fall into a comfortable silence.

When we finally arrive at the Peacekeeper's post, Gale is charged with Abuse and multiple counts of Rape then thrown into a cell for a couple of days till the Capitol gets involved. The Capitol always gets involved with crimes like Rape or worse, like murder. They'll execute him for sure. As Haymitch and I leave, we say a half-hearted goodbye to each other and I thank him again but he just brushes my gratitude away as if he was happy to help. Then we head our separate ways.