Hey Chapter 6 is ready! For anyone who's wondering [and I know most of you aren't] I had a lovely time in Florida!

I apologize in advance for the very cliche baking scene, I suppose any good Katniss/Peeta story is required at least one cheesy lovey-dovey baking scene, and apparently this story is no exception. Sometimes I have one thing in mind and when I start typing my brain takes on a path of it's own. So I apologize for my brain's sake and I hope you still enjoy! [And sorry for the length, but I make up for it with lovey-angsty goodness].

Also, thanks for all the reviews and I couldn't be happier with you guys! Keep reviewing and I'll keep getting those chapters in on time!

Love . Nicolette

Year 4

[March]

Katniss POV

If I don't knock soon he's going to think I'm crazy. I look over my shoulder at the empty street. Still not a soul in sight to see me standing out here like an idiot. The mid-morning sun still hangs just above the tops of the treeline and I sigh. I decided to wait until later in the day to come over. The impending night is a perfect excuse to leave sooner rather than later.

It's been nearly two weeks since I made my promise to be friends with Peeta. Just friends. I've somehow managed to get away with a quick phone conversation each day. At least one conversation a day. That's all I guaranteed him. One day last week I even managed to for-go the phone conversation by catching him outside shoveling the walk outside his door. A quick 'Hi how are you! I'm going hunting!' seemed like enough of a conversation for the day.

But Peeta called me out on my little charade last night.

And somehow I got conned into seeing him at least once a week from now on.

So here I am standing outside his door like an idiot. I'm not sure what makes me so afraid to simply knock on the door. Peeta and I are friends now, we've been friends in the past. I wonder if Delly will be over, I wonder if she knows about the things Peeta has said to me. I wonder if she knows about the kiss in the basement. Surely Peeta told her about the kiss at least. Peeta doesn't talk about Delly much.

But I wonder how she could be okay with Peeta and I being friends? About him seeing me each week and talking to me each night? Sometimes I try to think about what it would be like if the roles were reversed, what it would be like if Peeta and I were together and I knew that he had once had a crush on Delly and that they had kissed while we were together. But usually I end up stopping at the me and Peeta together part and stop myself before my mind runs away with me.

I catch a movement in the window next to the door. A flash of Peeta's bright blue eyes makes me realize I've been caught. I quickly knock on the door as if that was my intention all along, just as Peeta opens it.

"Hi." He says simply. A huge smile lighting up his face.

"Hi.." I respond. I hear the quiver in my voice and hate myself for being so nervous.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to hold up to your promise! But I'm glad you're here." And he sounds glad. I wish he weren't so happy.

I step inside and he closes the door behind me. For a moment we both stand awkwardly in the living room, me looking around the room as if I've never seen it before, and him watching me. He flips the light on quickly.

"I didn't realize it was so late." He says quickly. As if apologizing for forcing me to stand in a darkened room.

"I can't stay too long." I say quickly, avoiding his gaze, I don't want to see disappointment in his eyes. "I wanted to get up early to hunt." Which doesn't matter in the slightest, considering the fact that I can't sleep. But Peeta doesn't know that.

"Katniss." I look up to him and he's leaning against his staircase, arms folded, legs folded, shooting me a look that speaks volumes. The kind of look that says, 'You're not getting out of this that easy.' I groan inside.

"What? It's deer season!" I say, trying to hide the fact that I'm obviously trying to get out of this.

But Peeta has never been one to let me fool him. I'm not sure if I'm just a horrible liar, or if he's too clever for me, but either way. He knows me too well.

"I'm not buying that, and you have more than enough meat to last you and Haymitch a lifetime." He says coolly, moving toward his kitchen and gesturing for me to follow him.

This is true, and I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he knows. I went to Haymitch's for the first time in years a few days ago. I knocked, no one answered, and I left a load of butchered meat on his door. Since so many in District 12 are hunting now I leave most of the trading to them, since they have families to feed and I don't. Since I have plenty of everything, and they have nothing. I have more meat than I can keep fresh. I've given loads to Greasy Sae and even some to Effie (Who all but vomitted at the site of it). And when people began turning me away for lack of storage space. I decided I'd ignored my old mentor long enough and he must have told Peeta about my gift. What a snitch.

I follow him into the kitchen and am surprised to see baking supplies laid out on the large counter in the middle of the room. Bags of flour and sugar, some other white substance I'm not familiar with, a small brown bottle marked vanilla, a container of yellow oil, some mixing bowls and shiny metal pans, various utensils and other small colored bottles. As I'm observing it all he reaches into his refrigerator and takes out a sheath of eggs and a container of what looks like milk.

"What is all this?" I ask.

He smiles placing the eggs and milk on the counter with the other supplies. He spreads his arms open wide, "Prepare yourself Katniss." with a wink he continues, "Today, we're going to bake!"

xoxo

Peeta's POV

I remember the first time I realized that I loved Katniss Everdeen. The first time I could actually put a name to the feelings I'd been having since I was 5 years old. Strangely enough it was Delly who helped me come to understand what it was and what it meant.

My parents weren't very loving to us kids or to each other. A few weeks after my eleventh birthday my parents were arguing. Instead of going up to my room like I usually did when they argued, I hid sitting on the floor next to the kitchen door to listen to their argument. And when I say they argued, I mean my mother would yell at my father while my father mumbled and attempted to ignore her.

"...because I'm the only one who could STAND you! That's why!"

Even now I cringe for my father's sake, the horrible things she would say, but the next thing she said I'll remember till the day I die.

"You don't think I know about you and that seam woman? That you loved her before you met me? Well guess what! I've known for years! She didn't want you! She could never love you! You're impossible to love! And that's why I'm stuck in this hell hole with you!"

I remember my father finally getting up and walking out of the room, quickly glancing down at me as he stormed out of the room. I saw his eyes go wide for a moment before looking back to try and stop my mother from coming through the kitchen door to catch me. But he was too late, my mother had already cracked the door open enough to see me sitting there and went wild. I jumped up as she chased me around with a cast iron spatula in hand. I was never very graceful and ended up tripping over a footstool in the living room. My father had to pry my mother away from me after she hit me several times with the utensil. Luckily it wasn't very blunt, but was still very heavy and left my back and arms covered in bruises for weeks afterward

A few days after the incident, Delly's family came over to play cards with my parents. Even though she wasn't allowed to, Delly snuck up to my room to see me. She saw the bruises and asked how I got them. I lied and told her I had fallen down the stairs.

I'm not sure if she believed me or not, but she didn't argue. She simply told me something else I'll never forget.

"Peeta, my grandmother once told me that everyone says love hurts, but that it's not true. She said that loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets all these things confused with love. But in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all that pain and makes someone feel wonderful again."

That night lying in my bed I thought about Delly's words. I closed my eyes and thought of the only person who could distract my mind from all the pain, the loneliness, the emptiness. I realized that she did make the pain go away. Even though we'd never spoke to one another, even though she barely knew I existed. She made me forget about the pain, she made me feel ... wonderful. My Katniss.

A few days after that my mother found Katniss opening the trash cans outside of the bakery. I realized in that moment that I would do anything for her. And I did just about the only thing I could do without my mother taking her wrath out on both me and Katniss. I wanted to run out to her with a dozen fresh cakes or a basket full of cookies, or perhaps a potato sack filled with rolls. Something that would feed her and her family for weeks. But there's no way my mother would have let me get away with it. So I had to settle for the unburned halves of two loaves of bread.

But the two loaves seemed to do the trick, Katniss started looking better every day. Healthier, possibly even happier. She glanced my way a lot more often, she at least knew I existed. I tried to tell myself that was enough.

Just like now, I'm trying to tell myself this could be enough.

If my plan fails and Katniss doesn't fall for me, if we are never anything more than friends. Would this be enough?

I look up to see Katniss crouching eye level to the counter. Slowly pouring flour into a measuring cup. A look of complete concentration on her face. This being her third attempt at a cake, she's taking this one very very slowly. Pouring in a pinch of flour, then using three fingers to pack it down into the cup, pouring in a little more, packing it down. Again and again. Trying to measure the exact amount the recipe says.

Her hair, pulled back into it's usual braid, has a fine dusting of flour covering it. Wet bangs curl away from her forehead, a product of her pushing them away from her face with damp hands. Chocolate is smeared just above her left eyebrow. She abandoned her coat hours ago, and hopefully she abandoned all thoughts of leaving early along with it. Her short sleeved shirt is coated in flour too, along with her arms, and the red apron I gave her in an attempt to help cover her clothes. Her hands are clean, as she's been continually rinsing the flour off of them as she goes along.

I honestly don't think she's ever looked more beautiful.

I stopped asking a long time ago if she wanted me to help. She's already snapped at me enough times. She blames me for the first two cakes. Which is laughable considering how many I've baked in my lifetime. This time she's determined to do it on her own. I look up at the clock on the wall. Almost one in the morning. I almost want to take it off the wall, afraid she may take a break in her concentration to glance at it and realize she should probably leave.

My mind slowly begins to formulate a plan to keep her here once the cake is in the oven. When I suddenly realize she's about to pour a full two cups of salt into the mixture, obviously mistaking it for sugar.

I get there just in time, one hand catching the salt about to be poured into the concoction and the other on her hand to jerk the measuring cup away. Effectively pouring salt all over her legs, feet and kitchen floor.

"Ugghhh!" She let's out a yell of frustration and slams the measuring cup on the counter so hard I think it may crack. She turns to storm out of the kitchen, tracking a path of flour and salt across the ground.

I can't keep from laughing as I jog to catch up with her. She makes it as far as the kitchen door before I reach her. Stopping her with my hands on her shoulders and turning her to face me as I double over with laughter.

"WHAT IS SO FUNNY!" She shouts and I can't help but laugh harder. She begins to try and move away again and I pull her against me in a tight embrace, attempting to contain my laughter. At first she tries to push me away, but after a moment she sighs and drops her arms to her sides. "What did I do wrong?" She speaks quietly into my chest.

"That wasn't sugar, it was salt." I whisper into her hair. And surprisingly she starts laughing softly while pushing me away, but my laughter has died down.

The harsh reality of this situation finally hits me like a brick to the chest. Would it be worse to hear Katniss tell me right now she doesn't want to be around me and leave my life forever, or to have her with me each and every day, but to know that she'll never be mine. To know I'll never mean anything more than a friend to her.

My heart does a double take as she looks up at me, smiling.

I can't decide.

xoxo

Katniss' POV

I can't sleep.

I can't even close my eyes and pretend to sleep like I usually do.

I took my time walking home, and took my time in the shower washing off the remains of the flour and chocolate that was caked onto my body after my three miserable attempts at cake baking. The third didn't turn out half bad though, after Peeta switched out my salt for sugar and pretty much finished making the rest of the cake. I took my time cleaning my teeth and picking out my pajamas for the night.

But all I can do now is lie here in bed, and think about what the future may hold. I'm unsure after tonight if signing up to be Peeta's friend and to see him once a week was basically signing us up to be together eventually. More than once tonight I felt him watching me. And I liked it.

I could literally feel the atmosphere around us changing. Feel the slight tension in the air. Hear the intrusive thoughts in my mind that wanted nothing more than to be closer to him.

I worry now that soon those thoughts will get their way.

I worry now that I want those thoughts to get their way.

When he pulled me into his arms, laughing at my mistake with the sugar, I felt loved. I felt whole. I felt like my life had been replaced with someone else's. Someone's life who lives and laughs and tries new things. Someone who flirts and giggles and doesn't have a worry in the world. Someone who loves and receives love in return. Someone who can depend on someone else for something and will never be let down. It felt amazing.

But it's not my life.

And I'm willing to accept that.

I've never been the kind of person to day dream. I've never sat around thinking about things that weren't going to happen for me. When I had no food I didn't go to bed at night dreaming of huge pot roasts and large frosted cakes. When I curled up high in a tree during the hunger games I didn't dream of a warm feather bed. I only thought about what I could do to improve my situation. How I may try to get food in the morning, how I may try to find a better place to sleep the next day.

Things that were actually attainable.

But now as I lay in bed I wonder if that life that is not mine... could some day be mine. If I allowed it happen. If Peeta would have me.

Is it selfish to dream of these things?

I can't help but shake the feeling that if I allowed that to happen, something would go horribly wrong. What if I put myself and Peeta in that life together. In that happy careless life that we so artfully played out today?

Would it be selfish and irresponsible? Should I be allowed such a life after I ripped it from my sister's fingers? What if I give Peeta this thing he wants so badly and then something happens to me? Would he be more miserable in the end, losing not only his entire family, most of his friends, but also the girl that he thinks he's in love with?

And then a shudder runs through me when I think, what if something happened to Peeta?

I can't even think about it.

I close my eyes and try to will away the pain that this thought has brought.

Could this friendship be making things worse for both of us?

Is there anything I could even do to stop it now?

xoxo

Review Review Review!

I couldn't wait for the 150 that I asked for a few days ago to post this chapter. Once I'm finished typing up a chapter I'm too excited to add it to the story, too excited to hear your input.

Let's try for 185 reviews then, a smaller number to get the next chapter. [Honestly, when I realize you guys are getting close to the quota, I panic and start typing up the next chapter! I don't want to let you down!] Let me know if I'm doing something wrong!

Let me know what you'd be interested in reading between Katniss and Peeta!

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