Peeta sits in his usual seat offset from the pulpit where Father Abernathy gives his sermon. Today's topic is about making tough decisions, and an irrational part of his brain thinks the words the older priest speaks are for him.

Peeta has been scanning the church the entire mass, hoping that he can find her in the crowd. He didn't sleep last night. Instead, he spent the night thinking about Katniss, and then about the sacred vows he took to become a priest, among them his vow of celibacy, and about what he should do next. He thought about discussing the problem with Father Abernathy, but what would Peeta say? How could he possibly explain to the older priest that as a man who has seen war, death and unimaginable horrors could have his heart done in by the love of a woman? A beautiful, amazingly strong woman whose mercury-colored eyes invade his waking thoughts, whose raven-colored tresses smell like the woods, whose small hands fit perfectly into his, whose soft, sultry voice speaks to him on a level that no one else's has, and whose smile makes his breath catch and his heart skip a beat.

Peeta suddenly feels a twitch in his pants and warmth in his gut. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, begging his brain to think of something else, anything other than Katniss Everdeen. He scans the church only to connect eyes with Mrs. Cartwright, who is giving him a curious look. Peeta can feel a heat rise from beneath his collar on its way to his cheeks. He quickly turns to face Father Abernathy, whose sermon is just ending. He doesn't look for Katniss again.

After church as he shakes hands on the stone steps of the church, he still doesn't see Katniss anywhere, but he does make eye contact with Mrs. Cartwright again more than once. The woman does not approach him like she did that first Sunday; rather she studies him with narrowed eyes from a distance. Peeta swallows roughly, hoping and praying that she didn't see his discomfort during mass.

When all the parishioners have left, Peeta remains, staring out onto the street, looking for any sign of her. His heart sinks when he finds that it is empty. He tries to tell himself that it's a good thing that she isn't here, that they need their space from each other . He wants to do the right thing and keep to his vows, to his promise to God. He knows what he wants, but then why does his decision feel so wrong? Why is the thought of not seeing her face today ripping his heart to pieces?

Peeta suddenly feels a strong hand on his shoulder. He looks over to see Father Abernathy's warm gray eyes searching Peeta's face. He squeezes Peeta's shoulder before retreating into the building without saying a word. Peeta isn't sure why the older priest did it or what it was supposed to mean, but it affected Peeta nonetheless. It comforts him and hardens his resolve.

Peeta cannot deny that his feeling for Katniss have grown into love. These past three months have been the best months of his life. It is for this reason that he wants to make this right between Katniss and himself. He wants to repay her by doing the right thing for both of them. This beautiful, loving young woman deserves a full life, not a life attached to a priest. Katniss deserves a man like Gale that will love her wholly, but whom she can love wholly back. Because Peeta loves her, he wants this for her. Because he loves her, he's going to let her go.

XXX

That night, he quickly drifts off to sleep, having not slept the night before. He expects the familiar images of war to engulf his mind, but those dreams never come. Instead his dream starts with him still lying in his bed.

Peeta hears a knock on his bedroom door. He rises from his slumber and makes his way across the room. He feels like he is floating. When he pulls the door open, his breath catches. Before him stands Katniss, dressed completely in white linen.

"Peeta." Her voice is breathless.

Suddenly Peeta is sitting on the edge of his bed, unsure how he got there, but when he looks up, he meets Katniss's quicksilver eyes, which are glowing in the moonlight pouring through his small window.

Katniss raises her hand to cup Peeta's cheek. He leans into her touch, feeling the warmth of her hand penetrate him, settling in his chest.

"Peeta." She speaks his name again, and it sounds like she is begging, begging for something he's not sure how to give her. He studies her face for answers.

Katniss takes her hand and places it on his chest and begins to push him backwards till he is lying flat on the bed. She climbs up his body, the collar of her linen shirt hanging low, so Peeta can see the swells of her breasts. He lets out a low groan at the sight. Katniss smirks at his reaction.

Soon she is straddling Peeta's waist, her linen skirt riding up and resting high on her bare thighs. Without asking for permission, Peeta's hands grasp onto her knees before sliding up the soft creamy flesh of her legs, stopping when they reach her uppermost thighs. He tightens his grasp. Katniss releases a soft moan at the touch.

Katniss begins rolling her hips, adding a perfect amount of friction to his now rock-hard cock. He can feel his heart pound in his chest, and his breathing picks up at the delicious feeling of her against him. He moans her name while bucking his hips up to meet her core.

"Peeta," she begs again, and her voice tears at him. He looks into her hooded eyes, and his chest tightens. "Peeta, I need you." He doesn't hesitate. He pushes himself up, knocking Katniss down, her back crashing onto the bed. Peeta now hovers above her, kneeling between her spread legs. He stares down at her flushed skin, her parted lips, her long lean legs.

"Kiss me," Katniss calls out, snapping his attention back to her face. He leans down and takes her lips with his. The kiss is hard and heated. Katniss's hands find their way to Peeta's hair, tugging roughly, making him groan against her mouth.

Peeta slants his mouth to deepen the kiss. When Katniss glides her tongue against his, Peeta feels the effects of it in his now painfully-throbbing erection. Katniss breaks her mouth away, creating a trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth to the shell of his ear.

"I want you to have me, all of me." Her words are thick like honey. It is then that Peeta notices they are both completely naked and that instead of lying on his bed in the rectory, they are sprawled in the grass under the shade of tall trees. "Please, Peeta." He's heard enough.

Peeta lines himself up at her entrance before thrusting into her, and he feels like this could be heaven, that his immortal soul could stay in this moment forever.

He continues to move in and out of her, reveling in the feel of her around him. He looks at her face, into her eyes, and he feels it. He feels what he has been missing his whole life.

He finally finds his voice. "I love you, Katniss."

At first, he can see the joy in her face from his confession, but then her eyes pool with worry.

"Stay with me," she pleads.

"Always." he whispers back.

Peeta jolts upright in his bed, his breathing erratic, sweat covering his brow. He looks around, taking in his surroundings, confirming that he is alone. But the dream was so vivid. It was her eyes, her voice, her warmth. Now the only thing that remains of his dream are the images in his head and his painfully swollen erection.

It is not like Peeta has never suffered from this sometimes unavoidable biological response, but he has learned ways to deal with it using mental exercises and prayer. Masturbation was never allowed, and it's something Peeta hasn't thought about doing since he was a teenager. Yet here he is, and his normal methods aren't working, and it aches; he aches for her.

He tells himself how wrong this is, but that doesn't stop his hand from sneaking under his sheet, winding down his stomach. He throws his head back and swears under his breath as his hands wraps around his throbbing erection. He hisses through his teeth as he pumps his hand once before halting his movement at the base.

A part of him knows how wrong this is, how perverted, how it is against everything he believes in. He wills himself to think of anything besides her, to stop this, to sleep it off. He tries and fails. She has saturated his everything, and as he feels his hand pump his length once more, he realizes she has left him weak. She has taken everything he believes, everything he holds dear and shattered it in pieces around him. He feels his anger build as his orgasm does. He continues to beg himself to stop, but he can't find the will to comply. He pictures her face, a dandelion behind her ear when he comes with a loud grunt, a feeling he hasn't felt in so long wracking his body, throttling him into a euphoric haze before dropping him in a pool of guilt.

His breathing levels out and his heart stops hammering in his chest, and now the only thing he feel is an emptiness inside him.

XXX

As the days pass, his contempt grows. He is angry at Katniss; he is angry at himself, angry at the situation and that it went on as long as it did. His mind is happy that he hasn't heard from Katniss, even if his soul and heart are slowly breaking, wondering where she is and if she is alright.

He begins to feel anxious and paranoid, panicking that people can see his sin on him. By the following Sunday, his nerves are shot. He is antsy as he sits through the Father's sermon about sacrificing for your fellow man. The words start to jumble in his brain, leaving Peeta feeling lost and confused. He doesn't try to look for Katniss amongst the parishioners; he doesn't want to see her.

He just wants to feel normal again.

Save for the ache in his heart, he is relieved when he doesn't see her when church lets out. On the stone steps he tries to concentrate on the people he speaks with, trying to keep his head and heart with them. Just like the previous Sunday he catches Mrs. Cartwright glaring at him. He wonders if he should approach the woman and ask her what he's done to offend her, but she disappears before he gets the chance.

As he walks back into the church, he is alone, Father Abernathy having already retreated to his room. Peeta likes the empty feel the church has now. He wanders over to the candle room. The small area has an altar of white candles in red votives surrounded by statues of various saints. The candles are usually lit by those who wish to pray to a saint for themselves or a loved one. Peeta decides to light one for her and one for himself and this messed-up situation.

As he enters, he stops short at the sight of woman kneeling in front of the altar in prayer, a scarf around her head.

"Oh, excuse me." Peeta begins to back out of the room quickly."I didn't mean to disturb..." The woman turns around, stopping him in his tracks. Katniss stares at him, her face streaked with tears, her eyes red-rimmed, black bags hanging underneath them. "Katniss." Peeta says, for a moment not being able to tear his eyes away from her. "I'm sorry, I'll leave." He intends to exit the room until he hears her speak.

"Peeta, please don't go." He can hear the emotion in her voice, and it takes everything in him not to turn around, not to take her into his arms, to soothe away her tears. But he can't. He needs to end this here and now before they are both damned.

"Katniss... I..." He keeps his back to her as he speak. "I can't be... here." He wants to walk away, but his legs are stuck; he feels like he is in quicksand.

"I love you, Peeta."

"Katniss... stop."

"I tried not to, I tried to tell myself how wrong this was. I'm just some fucked up girl who fell in love with her priest, but it's more than that. It goes so much deeper than that. I...I can't survive without you."

Peeta's chest hurts, he's dizzy, and he can't breathe. He silently begs his legs to move, but they stay planted where they are.

"Katniss I..." He has to stop talking and take in gulps of air before continuing. "I can't be what you need me to be. I can't be the man you need. The man you deserve." His mouth feels dry as he desperately tries to catch his breath.

"Peeta, please I love you." He knows she is crying now.

"Katniss, this needs to stop." He still refuses to turn to look at her.

"I love you so much."

"Stop it." His voice rises, anger starting to well up inside of him. Why doesn't she get it, why doesn't she understand that there is no future for them?

"And you know what?" He can hear her voice close in on him, and a shiver runs up his spine. "I think you love me too." Peeta's blood runs cold at her words, but he is finally able to move his legs once again.

"I have to go." Peeta whispers as he begins to walk away from this room, from this conversation, and from her.

"Please," Katniss calls to him. Suddenly she is right behind him. He feels her hand grasp onto his shoulder to halt his movements. The heat from her hand burns him through his clothes.

"Stay with me?" She asks the same way she did in the dream, and he is back under that tree, inside of her. He wants to tell her that he will always stay with her, that he will be everything she wants, but he can't, he won't. He can't be with her, and nothing has angered him more. He's angry at God, at himself. He wishes she would just shut her mouth and let him leave. He tries to go again, ignoring her question, but not having an answer anyways.

"Admit it!" she screams at his backside as she keeps pace with his movements. "Admit you love me!"

"Shut up, Katniss."

"Then tell me you don't. Tell me you don't love me and I will never speak to you again! You will never see me again." Her words cause him nothing but excruciating pain. Stop it, he begs silently. "See, you can't deny it. So admit it." She grabs his arm. "Admit you love me."

Peeta can't be sure if he actually does love her because in this moment, he has never hated anyone more. He turns suddenly, knocking her hand away from his arm. In a quick movement he grabs Katniss's face with one hand, holding her firmly by her jaw. Her eyes widen as he tightens his grip. He knows he is probably hurting her, but he can't find it in him to stop. He needs her to stop talking.

"Stop, Katniss, stop this now!" he shouts at her, pushing her back further into the small room. He doesn't stop until she is pinned against the far wall. "I..." he wants to tell her he doesn't love her. "I..." He wants to tell her that he hates her. "I..." Then he looks at her lips.

Peeta crashes his mouth against Katniss's with such force that she whimpers against him, but soon her mouth begins to move with his, her hands winding themselves in his hair. The kiss is not loving or gentle. It is rough and painful. Both of them hurt from it, but neither of them stop. They can't stop. Peeta's hands drop down to hold Katniss's hips, his own hips keeping her pinned to the wall.

Their kiss seems endless; it tells a story, and Peeta's side needs to end it with a good-bye, but he never gets there because a gasp from behind Peeta breaks them apart. There, standing in the doorway, is a very shocked and almost giddy Mrs. Cartwright. Peeta swears under his breath before trying to speak, but the older woman is out of the room before he can even utter a word. His stomach sinks.

Peeta turns back to Katniss, not sure if he's about to cry or scream. She remains pressed against the wall, her chest heaving with each breath. Her face is flushed, and the bow that is her lips is swollen and red. Her eyes sparkle with something that looks akin to hope, and Peeta knows he is about to break her heart... and his own. He leans forward, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, feeling her soft skin against his one last time. His fingers slide down a lock of her hair before he speaks.

"I can't be who you want me to be. I'm sorry." His voice cracks at the end, and he can see the anguish begin to consume Katniss's face. Before he loses what little resolve he has left, he turns and exits the room as quickly as he can. The only sounds he hears are the blood rushing in his ears and Katniss 's voice screaming his name in between her sobs.

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