The sun has set by the time I feel calm enough to open my eyes, though I don't move from my position nestled up against Cashmere's chest. Now that the guilt, anger, and sadness from earlier has dissipated, the lust that briefly clouded my mind in the stairwell is making a return. I am hyper-aware of every part of my body that is coming into contact with Cashmere. When I start to pull away from her, she grips my arm to keep me from moving too far away. Her other hand comes up to my face, and I hold my breath as she gently wipes away my tears. Her grip on my arm loosens and her hand begins to fall away from my face.

Suddenly I can't stand the thought of losing contact and I surge forward, joining our lips. It is a brief kiss, if you can even call it that. A few second after my lips make contact with Cashmere's, she reflexively pushes me away with the hand she still has on my arm. By the look in her eyes, I can tell the only reason it even lasted a few seconds is because she was completely startled by actions. Before I can apologize and run away, her startled gaze disappears and is replaced by something more purposeful. Her hand shoots up to cup the back of my neck and pull me towards her once more. This time there is absolutely no doubt that it is in fact a kiss.

Cashmere decides to take the stairs all the way down to her floor, so this time I step out of the stairwell alone. Haymitch, Effie, Johanna, and Peeta all sitting down to dinner and they all look up at me as I enter and join them at the dinner table. Effie looks at me strangely from across the table and then looks away, shaking her head in disapproval. Johanna, who is sitting next to me, reaches over and plucks an errant leaf out of my hair without saying a word. Peeta is looking studiously at his plate and blushing, while Haymitch just shrugs at me and keeps eating. I expected him to be a bit more upset that I went missing again but I suppose since I'm back for dinner it isn't as bad.

I start eating while Peeta and Johanna begin debriefing us on how training went. As Peeta needlessly informs us about the formation of a career pack, I let my eyes wander over Johanna's body. She took a shower before sitting down with us and the outfit she changed into is not as enticing as what she was wearing this morning. Her toned arms are covered by a baggy shirt and her trousers don't show off her alluring legs either. I find it troubling that my body still reacts to her appearance despite the unflattering clothing. I decide to dismiss it as a side-effect of having just spent the last hour making out with Cashmere on the roof.

"We both practiced with traps and snares. We tried out a few of the weapons stations. Johanna practiced with the swords...she was pretty good. If I didn't know better I'd say she's used one before."

I do my best to keep my face expressionless as Haymitch and I both glance at Johanna, who has had a bored look on her face throughout Peeta's rambling. Haymitch looks somewhat impressed. It feels weird to be keeping things from Haymitch but there is really no way around that. We both agreed not to talk about our tributes any more than necessary to discuss the shared strategy.

"Anyone with a working hand can use a sword," Johanna drawls. "It's not exactly rocket science, figuring out which is the sharp end and swinging it around."

Peeta looks like he's about to say more but then thinks better of it. At least he has a little sense. He can discuss with Haymitch later how good he thinks Johanna is with a sword, talking about it with everyone was a stupid move. At the end of the day, only one of them can live - that doesn't leave much room for open conversation around the dinner table.

"Tell us about the other tributes," I say.

Peeta, clearly grateful for the slight subject change, immediately begins to regale us with his observations of the other tributes. Johanna stays silent for the most part, nodding or adding in a couple words when we look at her for her opinion. After dinner, I suggest to Johanna that we head up to the roof to talk. She follows me without a word and we take a seat on one of the benches in the garden. I pause to gather my thoughts but, to my surprise, Johanna ends up speaking first.

"Peeta's strong. He's trying not to show the full extent at the training sessions, but I've seen him lift hundred pound bags of flour."

I nod. I can tell she's got more to say and I don't want to cut that off by speaking too soon.

"He's a nice guy," she says.

I look over at her, warning bells going off in my head. I want to shake her shoulders and tell her to snap out of it, that she can't think of him as anything other than another tribute that has to die if she wants to live. Her voice was expressionless though, so I'm not sure how much weight to put on those four words.

"He is," I decide to respond noncommittally, seeing where she takes it.

"I can feel you restraining yourself," Johanna grins wryly. "I didn't say I wouldn't kill him. I'm just pointing out that he's nice. People pick up on that. Even Capitol folk. He'll get sponsors and do better than he thinks he will."

"Maybe," I agree, my shoulders relaxing. "But nice can only get him so far. Anyway, personality is overrated. Looks are just as important for sponsors, and at least you've got him and the other tributes beat there hands down. Personality can be faked, it's harder to do that with looks."

"Really?" She looks at me incredulously. "I can't tell whether to be flattered at your comment about my looks or offended because you clearly think that my personality leaves something to be desired."

I feel myself blush at the realization that I pretty much just admitted to finding Johanna attractive, which is ridiculous because it's not like it was a huge secret to begin with. The way she carries herself, it's easy to see that Johanna knows she is attractive and enjoys the effect she has on people. Thankfully she continues to stare off into the distance rather than look at me as we talk. Part of me thinks her refusal to make eye contact is because she is afraid I agree about her lack of personality.

"From what I've seen so far, I enjoy your personality," I say, because I decide she needs the truth right now. "The problem is that I haven't seen a lot of it, and I think that everyone else has seen even less."

"Can you really blame me for not being a ray of sunshine at the moment?"

She turns to look at me and her face betrays the exasperation she is feeling. I feel the familiar anger rise up inside me. As if the idea of having children kill each other in an arena isn't bad enough, the tributes also have to worry about being attractive and having sparkling personalities leading up to the bloodbath. I use the anger I'm feeling toward the Capitol to deliver my reply in a stern voice.

"This is hardly the time to be throwing yourself a pity party Johanna."

A flicker of hurt crosses Johanna's face before she slips on the expressionless mask she wears in front of everyone else and then looks away. I immediately regret my harsh words. She's followed instructions perfectly with regards to her limited public appearances. It doesn't really make sense for me to chastise her for being open about her frustration during a private conversation with me.

"Right, I'll work on the personality bit for the cameras."

Her tone is all business and the fact that she doesn't push back makes me feel even more embarrassed and guilty about my childish reaction. It is a bit of a reality check for me - I have been treating Johanna like an inexperienced child but I am a year younger than her and just as inexperienced when it comes to mentoring a tribute. There was no reason for me to take my anger with the Capitol out on her, and if anything it seems like it damaged the relationship we were building. If she can't turn to her mentor, who does she have left?

"No, I'm sorry." I place a hand on her knee and she stiffens but does not move away. "That was unfair of me."

"Fairness doesn't play into this," Johanna sighs, looking back at me with the mask still in place. "You are right, I was feeling sorry for myself and there is no time for that."

"I was wrong to say that," I give her leg a squeeze before removing my hand and repositioning myself so I am straddling the bench to face her. "Pretending you aren't upset by what is going on isn't going to make it go away. It's just the two of us up here - you should feel open to talk about what you are feeling."

Johanna adjusted to mirror my position, straddling the bench and facing me. "I volunteered for this. I knew exactly what I was getting into. We should use this time to discuss strategy, not my feelings."

A/N: Sorry for the long absence. I have this planned out and still plan on finishing the story, it may just be slow going (but hopefully nothing as bad as the break I've had between the last chapter and this one).