Hey there, here's Chapter 8 it took a turn for the cheesy side, but this is about the cave scene so I suppose it was inevitable. I'll try to make next chapter less fluffy unless you guys prefer it. Enjoy and remain fabulous, reviews are great if you chose to leave them but either way is good. :*

He purses his lips. "Okay. The truth is . . . I'm dying to kiss you right now."

When he says those stupid simple unexpected words I choke on my breath. It's as if I've had a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, some startling awakening. I no longer feel the lethargy trying to pull me under, like that it vanishes into the shadows and my rampant thoughts appear pulling me left and right.

All at once, I realize it must be true. That confession in the interview which I didn't take seriously, it's the explanation for all this. I don't know how to feel, is it right to let anger gnaw away in your stomach in this situation? I've never had experience or advice for this. Nor Madge or I ever got approached in school, we sticked to the sidelines and watched. Madge was a bit longing, willing some guy to pay her attention by staring at him with her helpless gaze, as if she could convey those thoughts telepathically. I, however, was never that way. I prefer to do everything on my own, but when your lacking your weapon of choice and a leg there's not much you can do. Gale was the only guy I spoke to, but he isn't for me, he's a friend and he understands that, not that he was interested anyways. I've only dealt with this once before and it was with the same guy, Peeta. After the interviews in a fit or rage I shoved him into a glass vase and he cut his hands and bled as I snarled at him.

Oh how the tables have turned, now I am not the one towering over him as he is hurt but he is to me, although not in a threatening way like I had been previously.

Finally I choke out some words to Peeta who is now stiff with nerves and possibly anticipation. "I don't think that's a good idea for you to kiss me-" I sputter, "I mean, there's people watching and this is the Hunger Games!" I utter in explanation, eyes wide.

He loosens up beneath my head, seemingly back to his easy going self. "I do. They changed the rules, remember?" A flitter of a smile I can only compare to day light sweeps though his lips. "We can both go home. We can win now. Besides, you might like it."

Reason stalks into my mind cold, harsh, and reprimanding. He could die anytime and so could you. You can't make stupid decisions when you determine Prim's future. And then there is the soft voice tip-toeing in from the untouched feminine crevice of my mind. He's very sweet. Remember the bread?

Should I lash out or be kind? Yes, one voice says, and the other replies with a firm no, it's as if there's some intense battle of ping pong going on in the walls of my mind.

"And things could also go for the worse," I remind him.

"Okay," he admits slightly defeated yet his cheer has not been fully extinguished. "But push all that back in your mind for now. You could like kissing?"

I choke on my spit at his unashamed straightforwardness. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Maybe a little bit, but that's because I am with you."

I scoff at his flirty manner. "Don't be ridiculous."

But he shakes his head. "I'm not. Just please take a chance on something for once, you may find yourself liking it."

I scowl but can't deny myself a glance at his full lips, teasing lines of carnation pink with a dark line balanced in the middle hinting at more. I feel a thread of inexplicable sadness in my chest, so many girls get their thrill from this type of thing and I've ignored it all this time. They must exaggerate, I decide, how could touching mouths with the opposite sex lead to bliss or anything of that category? Once again I'm reminded of the weight of poverty and the ache of hunger, they will always come first, indulging in something like this would be so frivolous and selfish. "I doubt I would," I try to pick my head up from his leg, but I am a weak trembling mess and only make it part way. Immediately I feel a hand at my stomach steadying me before I fall back.

"Easy, no more hurting yourself," he teases, good-naturedly of course, but there's a glumness to his tone as if he is forlorn, perhaps frustrated.

"I didn't mean to last time." I nervously straighten my posture, I am now sitting legs outstretched like stiff crooked tree limbs since I cannot cross them.

"I know," he sighs barely louder than a whisper, I'm surprised when he lays on his side to dig his face into the crook of my neck and twines his arms around my lower stomach. I think I stop breathing when I feel him nuzzle his nose into my skin. Feeling his warm exhales of breath and the soft flutter of his eyelashes make my heart give funny little pangs, sensations caused from a nervousness and delight that for some reason, I can't explain.

And then suddenly he's moving, he's sitting up as well and and drawing his hands to my shoulders. "You worry a lot."

My heart thumps almost violently, what is this thing we have going on right now? "I believe I have reason to, it's nearly impossible to be calm here."

"Oh no, it's possible. I'm relaxed right now, you just need to calm your thoughts. Can I kiss you now?"

I think I forget to breathe. My heart gives a stupid stutter and my throat dries up, I want to glower at him but I forget how to move my facial muscles. The depths of my stomach pools with butterflies, a myriad of them that are so aggressive I feel like I'm going to get sick.

I shake my head half-heartedly. "Peeta-" I warn in a low voice, it's all I can muster.

His cheeks burn, and he licks his lips tentatively. The blue in his eyes are almost feverish with desire, or something akin to it that makes me feel astonishingly nervous. My lips become taut and I look away.

"Stop thinking."

What if he can see straight right through me somehow and pull every thought from my mind? I shut my eyes and try to think of nothing, but I can't seem to successfully. Green, I think, think about the color green. Trees, life, woods. My mind isn't wavered however, thinking else where than the present is like choosing brittle bland tessarae bread for supper over a luxurious flowery capitol dinner that oozes with spices and various flavors.

Then I open my eyes and I see Peeta closer than before, invading my space so shamelessly. I know he's going to kiss me in that instant, so I pull back hands outstretched, eyes wide as saucers. "No, no, not right-" I choke out in broken explanation.

"Why, Katniss?" he says in a tone that's almost guttural.

I feel a confusion wedged in my stomach like a knife, but it's not painful, it's thought consuming and strange - maybe it's not confusion. My heart certainly should not react this way to being simply out of sorts, it's more like the exhilaration you'd get from panic. Wonderful and indescribable, a high you never want to leave.

"People. . . cameras, it's wrong."

"And I am sure no one would mind, you have got to learn to worry less. I understand if you don't like me back but I want to try. You're really lovely, and you seem incapable of believing me, but really, call me selfish but this is what I want."

He trails a finger down my wrist and the back of my arm as he speaks and I shiver, this feeling explodes in my chest, a burst of hair-raising warmth. And I feel so stupid for not being able to stay still, I hang my head down as I reply. I don't want to look him in his earnest blue eyes. "We're in the Hunger Games," I object weakly once again, "you deserve better than this."

My hand is enclosed with the warm mass of his, and it makes me want to tremble harder than before. I cannot shake the feeling, I am nothing more than a nervous ball of energy. His other hand of finds my chin, and makes me lift my eyes to his. The depths of his eyes are like galaxies flecked with dark blue stars. "You do too. So much better." Peeta licks his lips. "If you belonged to me I'd ensure that and much more, you'd never go without, I'd put you before myself in everything, never be cruel. Not that I'm trying to bribe you, I'm just stating how we'd work."

"Peeta," I intake a unsteady lung full of air. He pulls his hands away, and I blink.

He's it happens before I can protest again or give a firm no. Him shifting forward a frame of warmth and gentleness, placing his hand on the sides of my face and catching me by surprise.

When Peeta's lips connect with mine I am stiff as a door, yet I am filled with needles of sensation as my lips are pressed to his, they're supple and soft and hot, or maybe I make up the burn his contact leaves. I am breathless and unsure but he is insistent. He's must have kissed so many girls but I can't seem to make myself push him away, I've thrown reason to the wind like a fool.

My lips move against my own will and respond. There's no way I can seem to stop it, it feels incredibly right. I should analyze this action more but I don't, the moment is short lived however, he stills and pulls back.

I am tossed back into reality as time resumes. I feel strange, in a good way, I no longer tremble outwardly but inside I do. Inside I am all over the place, a mess of feelings and thoughts. How could an event that lasted mere seconds change everything so quickly?

Th hands he has on my cheeks that I'd momentarily forgot about drop, "that was the best few seconds of my life." My lips tingle with heat and moisture from his mouth and I feel almost dizzy. His pale eyebrows knit together, "did you like it?"

I feel my face turn crimson giving away what remained of my calm facade. Like a wave, a rush of wind pours through the entrance of the cave and meets my heated skin in that moment. Words do not want to leave my mouth, my tongue feels like cotton and my lips are still basking in the after glow. My eyes look away, I take in the sight of the now rumpled sleeping bag smoothed out underneath his legs, our boots knocked together in an innocent way.

"Did you?" Something blazes in his irises, his voice is low and taut and still somehow rich.

"Peeta . . ." I say that name for seemingly the millonth time tonight, I hardly realize I'm speaking, my voice has dropped its edge and adopted a quiet volume.

"You didn't did y-"

Suddenly I tilt forward and capture his lips within a seconds time, I'm not sure why, at this point it may just be a way to ease his nerves. It happens again, unexpected excitement, wet mouths, and a lurch in my stomach, only this time he is the wide eyed one caught off guard.

I lean back after only a brief moment. Shyness courses through me, and I wonder if what I did could have possibly been right. When I finally collect the courage to look up at him Peeta is slack-jawed with a wide drunken grin taking over.

"Thanks for answering," he says just as we hear a something clank outside the cave.