His eyes ran along the curve of her waist into her hip as he stood in the doorway. It was late; he sat in the living room for as long as possible before going up after her. He needed to clear his head, of her, before spending more time with her. He needed to figure out how to make this up to her. He couldn't let himself regret calling gale. It was the right thing to do, it was the safe thing to do, and it was the difficult thing to do. It was for their own good. He nods to himself. Their own good. That's what it was for.

He finds his eyes stuck on her, the little shake of her shoulders when she shivers, the curve of her backside where her shorts have ridden up. He tries to blink it away, whatever images that want to surface. He shuffles in the doorway. She hears him and whirls around, tensed like a cat ready to pounce in defense. She doesn't relax when she sees it's him.

"What?" she snuffles out.

He shakes his head tiredly. "Nothing. I was just going to bed."

She lets her body fall back onto the mattress. "Goodnight." She mutters.

He fumbles with his pants; he usually sleeps with boxers and in a moment of panic worries if he's overstepping a boundary, even though he's crossed it months ago. They shared a bed like this so many times before. He needs to remind himself of those safe times.

He eventually gets over the indecency of it all and slides into bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in, against her muffled protests.

They lie there, staring into space, not falling asleep and pretending they don't know the other is awake. She closes her eyes tight and tries to ignore this boy at her back, always there, who is sending her away.

"You really think I don't want you?" he whispers finally, into her hair. Her eyes lock on the wall, widened. Her senses all shut down, only her ears work; she can only focus on his words. She nods dumbly.

He groans, his arms tangled around her, and pulls her closer still.

"Every day, I have wanted you."

She swallows, her throat tightening.

"And today?" she murmurs.

He grunts at the sudden roll of her hips. She's not sure if she did that on purpose, but she's pleased with the reaction.

"Today…I still do. As I will tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day."

His large warm hand runs up the curve of her hip. She's breathless. She feels him, firm and warm, poking into the back of her thigh. It's what she wanted to feel, but it scares her. In all the good ways.

"Now we can stop here, and go to sleep, and pretend this never happened. You can stop me." He says quietly. Everything in her body wants so scream at him to keep going. But instead she shakes her head.

"I want this too." She replies; though he can barely hear her. It flutters in his chest, his reaction to her shyness. He groans and buries his face in her hair, over finding an unchanged part of her.

The dark hides her blush, but he can practically see it.

"Look at me," he urges softly.

His voice has never been like this before, quiet and intimate, in a tone that made whatever he requested sound remarkably nice.

She rolls onto her side to face him, and he gently holds her chin and kisses her, slow and sweet and wet. A kiss that seemed to eat her up. She lets him.

He slides her shorts down, she fidgets and helps him. His fingers crawl over her underwear, and the whole of his hand cups her. She hides in the crook of his neck as his wandering hands surpass the hem of the fabric and tentatively stroke the increasingly wet flesh between her legs. She shuts her eyes tight, surprised by how all-encompassingly nice it feels. Her legs open more, and he grows more confident. His movements are more assured, and he slides a finger inside her, curling it, moving it around.

She fidgets at this intrusion, not hating it but not sure if it's supposed to feel like this as he seems to be searching around. Then her legs spasm and she bucks her hips involuntarily, realizing whatever it is he found what he was looking for. She blushes red at the noises that escape her, and he lips are at her throat, coaxing the out.

Sweat sticks bits of hair to her forehead. She's watching his hand, eyes glued on his movements. He watches her face, glancing down to watch what he's doing every few moments. Their connection is small and imperfect and raw, but it's theirs. And she's somehow glad to be so close to coming undone under his work.

His thumb moves unsurely through her folds, and brushes over her clit, and she gasps out, he moves back to try and find it again. He makes gentle circle around the swelling nub and she covers her face with her hands, trying to silence herself. Her hips move with a mind of their own, trying to gain more friction and move against him. It's awkward because she doesn't know how to gain more pleasure for herself yet, but her slides in another finger and she loses it. Her head is thrown back and she whines out, high in the back of her throat as she cums. It's a release that's been too long awaited and tears prick her eyes because the tension is gone. Her legs feel boneless. She feels free.

She grabs his face, wanting to thank him in every way. She kisses him fiercer than she ever has, in a new way that she'd grazed before but never really done. Her hand slips under the elastic waistband keeping him separate from her.

She is unsure what to do; her hand finds him gently because she'd overheard jokes about how sensitive that particular area is on men. The thought makes her blush; these thoughts always make her blush. She realizes she's silly, taking in her current situation, to be such a prude.

She wraps her fingers around him gently, feeling him swell a little more under her touch. He groans deep in his throat. She gasps a little, feeling the change under her fingers that she caused. She decides she likes it.

Her hand moves form the base to tip tentatively, and he watches her face, eyes steady.

"That's right, a little faster." He prompts; and she turns even redder, following his instructions. His eyes shut tight and he grunts. She bites her lip and increases the pressure of her hand around him, and he nods and welcomes this change. She moves her hand faster over him until she feels him tense. He moans her name quietly. Something warm and sticky covers her hand; she knows what it is but never really knew what it was supposed to feel like. She wipes her hand on the sheets as he catches his breath.

"Was that…?"

He nods; looking at her, without a smile, but still happily. She smiles, which feels like her first real smile in a long time. She still feels so wonderful and light and happy. She wasn't quite sure why she needed him this way until after he released her.

She cuddled into his arms. "Do you want to…?"

"yes." He nods emphatically. "Not tonight, but yes…I want to so bad."

She smiles. "Me too." She kisses him again, soft and sweet. He lies down and holds her tight to his body, urging her to sleep.

Maybe tomorrow. She thinks gleefully, watching him drift off to sleep.

Tomorrow.

The day Gale came to take her away. Her eyes spring open. Peeta is fast asleep, not noticing her panic.

This would be their last tomorrow, and before she knew it, it was today.