T rating.

Peeta rubs circles on the back of my hand while we walk. He's quiet for a while, I imagine gathering his thoughts. Every once in a while I squeeze his hand, wordlessly telling him that it is okay and can take his time.

"Would you like to take the main rode or the side roads?" He asks, cutting the silence. "The main road is faster, but the side roads are considerably quieter."

"Considering that talking through Harry Potter is forbidden-"

"-About as forbidden as the Forbidden Forest-"

"- I'm going to go with the side roads."

He chuckles to himself.

We fall back into a gentle silence as we cross roads, taking lefts then rights. It's only when we are behind the frontline and away from the action that Peeta starts talking.

"You probably have so many questions for me right now." He comments. "What am I hiding? Why do I know so much about the Capitol? Et cetera, Et cetera."

I try to smile.

"Those thoughts have crossed my mind."

"I can't remember if I told you, but I used to be an architect." He starts talking. His voice smooth but nearly emotionless. "After high school, I managed to get a scholarship to one of the Design Collages. It was such a great opportunity; my family couldn't have afforded it otherwise. My parents weren't exactly poor, but weren't in a positon to send any of us to Collage either.

"In my first term, I got pulled out of one of the lectures. I was asked to wait in one of the offices, watched closely by a pair of guards – Peacekeepers, you'll know them as."

Peacekeepers were the president's personal guards; designed to look threatening enough to scare you, but 'keep you calm' in dangerous situations – but I'm sure they would kick your head in, given the opportunity.

"I waited for ages, it seemed. They offered me tea and everything; I remember my hands shaking like crazy and I kept trying to conceal it by fiddling with a pen - I don't think it worked. You know when something just seems wrong and like you shouldn't be there?"

I'm not sure if he is actually looking for an answer, but I give him one anyway.

"Yeah I do and it's terrifying."

"Exactly," he continues, nodding. "After a while, one of the guards pulled me to my feet and in walked the president."

"President Snow himself?"

"Yes, President Snow himself. He looks just like everyone says; a snake waiting to kill. I don't know how to explain it, but it's like he can see your weaknesses and is simply waiting to exploit them."

I shudder.

"Anyway, he told me that someone leaked the layout of his mansion, along with all the escape plans and defense locations. Snow needed someone trustworthy to design him a new mansion, along with all the necessary plans and that I'd be paid for both my trouble and secrecy."

"You agreed?" I know that I don't hide my surprise or disgust very well.

"Not at first."

"What do you mean, not at first?"

"When they told me everything, I said no. It would make me a target, along with my family and friends; that's when he started to laugh. He looked me up and down and called me an idiot. Snow turned and said something to one of his guards in a different language."

"Why don't I like where this is going?" I voice.

"They brought out a dead body Katniss." His voice cracks as he says my name.

I pull up short.

"They did what?"

"They threw a body onto the tables. Their skull was dented and blood covered their clothes; I knew him. His name was Kyle and he was in my class. Snow laughed again and told me that I wasn't the first person he had contacted, and if I didn't agree to work for him he would make sure that everyone I loved was put in an early grave."

"Peeta," I breathe, pulling him towards me. "You don't have to continue, its fine."

"Yes, I do."

His hands shake against my waist, though his voice is steady. It's as if he isn't talking about himself at all, just a stranger. But his eyes tell me differently.

I rub my hands up and down his arms, trying to get warmth back into his being.

"Snow then proceeded to talk about my family. He knew everything: names, dates, addresses. And he told me exactly what would happen if I breathed a word to anybody. I'd watch them die in front of me, completely helpless, and then I'd be tortured until my last breathe."

"But Peeta, you're okay! Your family are-"

"Dead Katniss, they're dead."

I fall silent.

"Did you," I try. "Did you tell anyone?"

"Not a soul, I was always extremely careful with where I worked and where I told my parents I was going. My mom would yell at me all the time for being so secretive; I think my dad understood though. He told me once that he didn't trust the Capitol, that some of his friends tried to rebel against them and now they're dead. Funnily enough, a few weeks later the accident happened."

"So, your dad was the one who-"

"He didn't cause the accident Katniss." Peeta tells me sternly. "He could of badmouthed the president to his face and he still wouldn't have caused the accident."

"That wasn't what I was saying Peeta." I try to keep my voice gentle, but his words annoyed me – of course I wasn't blaming his father.

"Sorry…" He mumbles, pausing to kiss me on the top of my head. "It's a touchy subject."

"Of course, I understand that."

"As you can tell, I took the job. I handed over all the documents and Snow guaranteed that I would be kept completely wiped from the records: nobody would know that I had anything to do with the redesign. He also guaranteed my safety, so long as I never told anyone."

"You finished before the accident?"

"Yeah, I did. In my opinion, the accident was designed to kill me instead. But as we all look very alike, my brothers accepted my fate… It's my entire fault"

"You can't blame yourself for that though Peeta! Just like with your dad, you could have done anything to the Capitol – it didn't mean that it was your responsibility!"

"But Katniss-"

I nuzzle my head into his neck.

"No Peeta," I smile. "Just shut up and trust me."

He laughs softly into my ear, holding me tighter.

"Using my own words back at me, what have we come to?"

"We'll just be our own freak show."

He smiles down with me.

"I think I can live with that."

"Me too." I reply.

"So there is one more thing you need to know."

"Are you sure Peeta? Maybe that's enough for one day…"

"No, I'm fine." He kisses me. "Really."

"Okay." I smile at him.

"Working for the Capitol, I earned quite a lot of money. Put that on top of the compensation of the car accident, and-

"-Peeta, are you trying to tell me that you're rich?"

He laughs.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"On a scale of a homeless guy to the queen of England, where are you on the scale?"

He laughs harder.

"Sorry, that was over the line."

"No no, it's fine." He disentangles his arms from around me and takes hold of my hand. We begin to wall down the road once again. "I don't know where I am on that scale though."

"Can I ask you one thing?"

"Go ahead." He tells me.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Two reasons," he starts drawing patterns on my hands again. "The first and foremost is that I don't want you to freak out when you see my house; the second is that I wanted you to know."

"Do you like where you live?" I ask.

"Yes, I do." He tells me gently. "It's very secluded and was built to my taste."

"You built it?"

"I'm an architect, I designed the whole thing."

"You don't sound very proud of that." I observe.

"There's nothing impressive about designing your own house, you can't really go wrong – it's all your ideas for your own space, it's not like designing for a client."

"Still, there must be something rewarding simply knowing that all your hard work is now your home."

"I don't know, I think working for the Capitol took all the joy out of that. And besides, I think I overestimated how much room I needed."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a lot of space that I don't use. It's just me living there; I simply don't need it all."

"Oh right… You could always rent out rooms."

"I could, yes .But I don't need the money and I don't want to endanger anymore people."

"Oh," I laugh. "But you're okay endangering me?"

He smiles down at me.

"Yeah, I'm letting myself be selfish."

I laugh.

"Okay, one more question."

"Go ahead."

"Why do you want me to know all of this? You could have quite easily spun some lie about your house."

"I could have done, but I don't want to." He frowns slightly. "You're different and I haven't quite figured you out yet. But I know that I want to and I don't want to have to lie in order to do that. I'd quite like it if you stayed for me, not who I was pretending to me."

"Good luck figuring me out." I tease. "Nobody has done that yet."

"I'm always up for a challenge Everdeen."

"Bring it on Mellark."

I laugh and he squeezes my hand lightly.

"But how do you know that I'm not just staying for your money?"

"That is a chance that I am willing to take."

I laugh again – something I'm still not used to doing so freely.

"Don't worry, I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not staying for the money."

He smiles and dips his head down, kissing me gently as we walk.

"Good."

We chatter mindlessly the rest of the way. Following the winding lanes, I point at large houses guessing which one belongs to Peeta – I get it wrong each time. Before long we are back in the estates, walking on concrete instead of gravel.

I'm unsure of how long we have been walking when we turn down what looks like a drive way. Its pathed with continents of slate: grey, black and red. Large boulders line the edges, flowers growing between them; no property is to be seen.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"My house is down here. I told you it was secluded."

"Oh."

Just when I think it couldn't stretch any further, I see it.

"Peeta," I breathe. "It's beautiful."

In front of me is a crème building. Square in shape, it has stone colored bricks accenting the outline. Two large oak doors, standing grand, sit atop of a small set of steps – they match the driveway. Windows are dotted around the walls, blinds closed.

I guess it is two, maybe even three stories.

"This is the back of the house." Peeta tells me, looking at his shoes.

"But isn't that the front door?"

"Yes, it is. But this isn't the feature side."

"There is a feature side?"

He nods slowly.

I walk to stand in front of him and take his face in both of my hands. I kiss him gently.

"Relax." I tell him, looking him dead in the eye. "This won't make me treat you differently."

"But-"

"No buts Peeta. It's just a house."

He lets out a sigh of relief and pulls me back against him. This time his lips attack mine, firm and unyielding. I gasp against him and he holds me tighter.

I find myself extremely aware that this is one of the most passionate kissing sessions we have had, as I wrap my hands around his neck and bury my fingers in his curly hair. A warm feeling begins to spread around my stomach, igniting my blood with a fire I have never felt before.

When Peeta pulls away, a whimper leaves my lips without permission. I blush fiercely and look away from him immediately.

"Don't worry," he whispers, his voice deep and rough. "That's how I feel too."

He kisses my cheek, lingering for a second.

I find myself wondering if he too can feel fire flooding his veins, or if the hairs on his neck are stood on end as well.

He takes hold of my hand again and leads me up the remainder of the path and in through the front door.

"I can show you around, if you'd like." Peeta tells me, opening the front door with ease.

"Sure." I say, my voice not sounding at all like my own.

I step inside his house and the smell of baked goods hits me almost immediately. The scent is warm and sweet in my nostrils – it's extremely comforting.

Looking up, I'm greeted with high ceilings, beamed with dark wood. To my right is a modern staircase that follows the shape of the house. It disappears onto a landing on the floor above, though I suspect it snakes around and leads to hidden treasures.

Directly in front of me is a large stone arch. Inside it is what appears to be a large kitchen, floor to ceiling windows on the back wall. To my left is a wooden door, which takes my attention. The oak matches that of the main entrance, lifting the pale walls. I take a step towards it, before remembering that this place is not mine to explore.

Peeta laughs beside me.

"This is the den," Peeta says, opening the door. "I tend to use this more in the winter, as its warmer than the main living room."

The room itself is reasonably small, perhaps the same size as my bedroom. The wall opposite the door is a dark red, fitted with a black fireplace. I notice that the blinds I saw from the outside are a light matt grey, matching the fluffy carpet. A medium sized leather sofa faces the large TV that is mounted on the wall. Photographs line the free walls, faces smiling like they know me.

I nod taking it all in.

I let Peeta pull be backwards, back into the hallway and we walk under the arch and into the kitchen. I run my fingers over the stone; it's cool and smooth to touch.

The kitchen is extremely modern and large in size. Red cupboard doors reflect the afternoon sunlight, bouncing it off the black marble surfaces. A glossy island sits in the middle, fully equipped with a sink and bar stools. The sink faces the window, allowing you to look out as you cleaned up.

I feel like everything is placed where you would want it to be.

"I might stay for your house though." I say quietly, smirking as my eyes flit from one feature to the next.

Peeta just laughs beside me.

"Come on; wait until you see the view."

To the right of the kitchen, under a matching arch is a dining room. It has the same floor to ceiling windows that the kitchen has, flooding the room with natural light. A large table sits in the center, matching chairs around it. Place settings and coasters sit stacked on the table, beneath a bowl of fruit. The walls are the same cream color as the kitchen and hallway, with the same pale laminate beneath my feet.

He leads me through the dining room and yet another arch, into a living room. It has a large L-shaped suede couch, sat upon a red fluffy rug. The side wall is made up of sliding doors, revealing the best of the view.

At the back of the house is a large garden that containing every verity of tree I can name: willow, oak, cherry-blossom and so on. The grass slowly tapers off into boulders, then bare rock. After a while, the ground simply disappears.

I think we're too low down to see what lies beneath but even then, it's beyond beautiful.

"It's a cliff face." Peeta tells me, following my gaze. "It's just sea down there, no beach or port."

"Isn't that scary?"

"No, why would it be scary?" He asks.

"But won't the rock face be eroded by the sea?" I ask, while trying to remember what little high school geography I took part in.

"Well yes, but it would take many years before the house is even remotely close to the edge. And there is a variety of rock armor down there too."

"Peeta, your house is beyond amazing."

"Thanks." He smiles at me. "When you're outside, on a nice day you can hear the sea."

I look around the room again. An even larger TV sits in the corner, with DVDs and video games stacked neatly around it. There is also a large bookshelf on one of the free walls, overflowing with books.

"I can show you the rest if you'd like."

"What else is there?" I laugh.

"Downstairs, this is pretty much it, other than a room I just use for storage. The first floor is mostly untouched, spare bedrooms and a family bathroom. I use the office to paint, that's about it."

"There are three floors?"

"Then there is my bedroom, a bathroom and stairs onto the roof."

"Woah."

"I'm glad you like it." He laughs.

"It's very well designed." I comment.

"Again, thank you. I think you're just saying that though."

"I'm really not."

He just shrugs at me.

"So am I about to be educated on the world of Harry Potter?"

"Soon, yes."

"Soon?"

"Yes, I kind of like talking."

"Oh." I smile.

He takes my hand and leads me to the couch. Sitting down, he pulls me next to him.

"It comes to something when this sofa is better than my bed." I fake moan, nuzzling my head into Peeta's neck.

I feel his laugh bubble through his chest.

"You're adorable."

"And I like sofas."

He then proceeds to scoop me up in his arms, before gently setting me down on his lap. Smiling, I let him wrap his arms around my being and I nuzzle myself back against him.

"Thank you." He whispers, resting his forehead against my hair.

"What for?"

"For understanding, listening to me and for not judging really…"

"There's no reason for you to be judged Peeta, you did what you had to do. You didn't have a choice."

"So why are you worried about Prim?" Peeta asks gently.

I sigh against him and I find myself briefly wondering why I'm so relaxed like this, cuddled with a boy.

"It's complicated…" I tell him.

"So was mine, but you listened."

"It's just that, every time I see Prim she has lost so much weight. My Mom is working herself into the ground, claiming she is trying to provide for them both, but for the most part it is unpaid. She just doesn't want to go back to that house."

"But Katniss, you can't blame her for that-"

"-I can blame her for letting Prim starve though Peeta. She doesn't earn enough to pay the mortgage, along with the other bills and food. I already pay for Prim's lunches and school books, as well as most of the food shops. My Mom never even goes home to see Prim, she's constantly alone…" My tone turns desperate.

"Is that even safe? She's only 15, right?"

"I don't know what's safe. But I can't go back into that house Peeta, but I also…" I trail off.

"What is it Katniss?"

I blush and twist my fingers into a knot.

"It's just that I, um, can't really afford my rent on top. Haymitch pays for my phone, in case of an emergency…"

"You don't need to be embarrassed because you don't have much money, Katniss. The fact that you're working, not only to keep your own head above water, but your sisters too is beyond impressive. Give yourself some credit."

"What do I do if I can't keep Prim healthy though? You saw her today, imagine her even skinnier."

"Katniss, I know that you won't let that happen. You'll find a way, I'm sure of it. And you're not alone anymore."

"I'm not?" I ask, looking up at him.

"I'm not going to let you struggle."

"We may be dating Peeta, but I'm not going to actively take your money."

"Katniss, you'd be doing me a favor honestly." He laughs.

"Why?"

"You asked how much money I had before, didn't you. Let's just say I have enough for both of us to not have to work again until the day we die, and then some."

"Seriously?"

"I'm not going to let you struggle." He repeats. "But I'm also not going to take away your independence, because I think you need it."

I smile.

"It still shocks me that you know me so well, and we have only been out a few times."

"I like watching you." He admits.

"I'm not sure if to run screaming or kiss you."

He laughs. I kiss him.

"I'm glad you didn't run screaming."

"It's only 4:30. There is still time for me to do that."

"This date sounds more and more promising the more you talk." He laughs. "There's still time for me to run. I might stay for your house though."

His attempt to mimic my voice has me gasping for breath, clutching my stomach. Peeta looks down at me amused, a gentle crease forming between his eyebrows. He shakes his head slightly before gently brushing his lips against mine.

I let my head lull against his shoulder once more and his arms hold me tighter. We stay like that for a while, feeling the other breathe.

"If you're not careful, I'm going to end up falling asleep on you." I mumble into his t-shirt.

"There are worst ways for me to spend the evening." He whispers, kissing the top of his head.

I can't help but notice that Peeta is being very free with his kisses this evening. Part of me is wondering if it has anything to do with third dating, though I silence my thoughts.

"No, I want to understand the whole Albus, and Sirius waiting 12 years thing."

He laughs beneath me.

"Come on then let me get up." He says. "I'll put the film on and get you a drink."

I sigh.

"Okay."

I move from his lap and sit on the couch.

"What would you like to drink?"

"I'm happy with water, thank you."

"Okay."

I kick off my shoes under the table and fall back into a lying position, my head brushing the corner piece of the furnishing. My eyes fall close automatically and I end up losing myself in my thoughts.

I'm shocked by: how beautiful this house is; how even though Peeta lives alone, just how homely it feels; what he went through to get here. I can't help but feel like we are both a little messed up in our own way, it seems to work for us though – whatever us is.

I'm brought from my thoughts by a gentle kiss. Smiling, I open one eye to see Peeta crouched beside me.

"Somebody is sleepy." He comments, brushing my cheek.

"No, just incredibly relaxed."

He smiles then, hit bottom lip between his teeth. Bright eyed, he chuckles to himself.

"Glad to hear it."

He passes me the glass of water and I gulp down half the content. I pass it back for him to place on the table, which he does.

I watch him and the way his back muscles contract then relax when he moves his arms.

"See something you like Everdeen?" He teases when he catches me watching him.

Instead of answering I reach out and, taking a hold of his black t-shirt, pull him towards me. Before he can react, one of my arms wraps around his neck while the other remains balled in his shirt, and I kiss him.

He makes a sound of surprise, but quickly recovers. His hands grasp my hips tightly, anchoring me against him. After a while, I let the hand that was gripping his shirt wrap around his neck. But in doing so, his top rides up slightly.

When he doesn't go to pull it back down, I decide to give being bold a go. I grip him tighter with one hand, letting the other fall down the length of his arm. My fingers slowly inch towards the area of freed skin before making contact.

Peeta lets out a half gasp half moan, pulling away from me slightly. At first, I fear that I made the wrong decision. That is until I see that his eyes have fallen closed and he is breathing fast, he also grips my hips considerable tighter.

His skin is warm and smooth against my fingers. I swipe the pad of my thumb over the right side of his stomach and he shudders. I repeat the motion a few times before looking up and seeing that he is biting his bottom lip quite hard.

I decide to let my hand return to his neck. After a few seconds he opens his eyes, now darker, and looks at me with something close to awe.

"What?" I flash him a coy smile. "I saw something I liked."

He lets out a breathless laugh and shakes his head.

"I should tell you I'm rich more often."

I frown.

"Peeta, that isn't why I-"

He kisses me gently.

"I know. I was only teasing."

"Oh."

He grabs the remote from the arm of the chair and sits in the corner of the couch. He puts his feet up along one of the lengths and pats his leg gently.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Put your head down." He laughs.

"Oh right." I reply.

I lie back, putting my head in his lap. Wordlessly, Peeta sets up the first Harry Potter film before gently untying my braid. His fingers knot themselves in my lengths of black hair; the sensation is extremely relaxing. Nobody has played with my hair like this since my father.

"Would you like me to stop?" He asks.

I hadn't realized I had spoken aloud.

"No, please don't. I like it."

"Okay."

I turn my head to face the TV. I watch as Harry learns about his true identity, befriends Ron and Hermione and figures out the tale of the Philosopher's Stone. He battles Voldemort single handedly and wins Gryffindor the house cup.

When the film ends, I turn to Peeta and say "I thought they were meant to be like 11?"

"They are 11 or 12, depending on who it is."

"But he just fought the wizard who killed his parents."

"Just wait to see what he does when he gets older."

"It's just going to be Voldemort coming back for more, isn't it?"

"Not really." He tells me. "But what do you think?"

"What do I think of Harry Potter?"

He nods.

"It's very clever."

"We don't have to watch anymore, don't worry."

I roll onto my back and Peeta brushes my bangs behind my ear.

"No." I smile. "I want to."

"Okay."

I let him get up and change the disk over. We watch Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, then Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, in the same position as before: my head on Peeta's lap, him stroking my hair.

"I'm hungry." I admit quietly.

"I know," Peeta laughs. "Your stomach was growling through the entire film!"

"Shut up. I haven't eaten all day."

He sits up then, his hands stilling in my hair.

"Why haven't you eaten yet?"

I shrug.

"I forgot." I half tell and half ask him.

"Okay, I'm getting 2000 calories into you right now."

I sigh, sitting up myself.

"I'm going to get fat dating you."

"As you 'forget' to eat all the time, I doubt that."

"Sorry." I mumble.

Peeta shakes his head slightly and rises from the couch, offering me a hand as he does. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet.

"What would you like to eat?" He asks, leading me into the kitchen.

"What've you got?"

"Not that much." He laughs. "Take out?"

"No," I fake whine. "I don't want you to spend money on me."

"Who else can I spend it on? Please, I want to."

"Give some to charity then."

"I have, I can't give anymore without it being suspicious."

"Oh…"

"So, let me do the charitable thing and feed my starving girlfriend."

We both look at each other in shock.

"Sorry," He says quickly. "I didn't mean to say that. It just kind of happened."

I try to smile as I roll my eyes, hitting his arm for good measure.

"You're an annoying Boyfriend."

The words feel strange rolling from my tongue, alien but not completely unnatural. I imagine that, like anything else, it takes a lot of getting used to.

"Yes, I want to buy you some food. I'm a horrible, horrible person. Just lock me up and throw away the key." He deadpans with a smirk.

I try to scowl, but it quickly turns into a grin.

"So tell me, what would you like to eat?"

"I'll eat whatever you want." I say.

"No, what would you like to eat?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You're just not telling me."

I laugh.

"No, I honestly don't know what I want."

Peeta reaches out for me and for a moment, I think he is going to hug me. But his crooked smile gives him away. In attempt to get out of his impending grasp, I twist and sink to the floor. He is faster though. His hands land on my waist, catching me mid escape.

He begins to tickle me. I squeal and twist in his arms, fighting helplessly.

"Tell me what you want to eat, or I will keep tickling you." He says sternly.

"No." I gasp.

"Okay then."

He tickles and tickles me, until tears of laughter (and possibly frustration) begin to leak from my eyes. I try my best to think of what I would like to eat, but instead I'm focused on attempting to catch my breath.

"Peeta," I beg. "Please. Please stop."

He stops tickling me at once, wraps his arms tightly around me and gently lowers me onto the floor. Crouching down next to me, he wipes the pad of his thumb under my eye.

"I feel like Pizza." I tell him before he can open his mouth.

My hand lies on my stomach, rising and falling quickly as I try to regain control.

"Now," Peeta smiles "Was that so hard?"

I roll my eyes at him, as I push myself into a sitting position.

Peeta laughs and helps me to my feet once more.

"What type of Pizza would you like then?"

"How many types of Pizza are there?"

He looks at me, amused.

"Okay, let's just stick with cheese."

"Sorry." I laugh at myself. "Unless it's sold at Trinkets', you're just going to have to assume I haven't tried it before."

"Yeah but Pizza, really?"

"I've had Pizza before! Just-"

"-only one type?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you go and sit down, while I go and order."

"Okay."

I kiss his cheek gently and walk back into the living room. Instead of sitting back down, I look at the overflowing bookshelf. It seems to have everything.

I notice a collection of Enid Blyton books and smile to myself, thinking how much Prim would like it. There is also a few series written by Garth Nix, Suzanne Collins, Veronica Roth and John Green.

"I have more upstairs." A voice says.

I turn around to see Peeta back again, leaning against the wall.

"Do you like reading?" I ask.

"Yeah, I've always loved reading. It was set me apart from my family really."

"Did you read when you were little?"

"All the time."

"That's nice."

"Do you read?"

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

"I never really had the time to read, or the funds to buy the books."

"Oh…"

"My Dad would make up stories for me though at bed time and I always loved those. The only books I've ever read were my school ones."

"What a sad little life you lead."

I chuckle to myself.

"Tell me about it."

As I look at the vast selection of books, I find myself thinking about how different our lives are. He reads and I don't. I work and he doesn't. He is completely financially independent, while I can barely string together enough funds to stop my sister from starving.

That then flows onto how different we are as people. Peeta is calm, gentle and sweet, while I am generally hotheaded. Then again, Peeta has never really seen that side of me before… Have I changed?

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

I shake my head.

"Hey." He says softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

I try to smile at him, though he sees right though me. He takes a step forward and wraps his arms around me for the millionth time today. I sigh against him and melt into his frame.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks calmly, his blue eyes searching my gray.

"Just about how different we are."

He steps back then and pulls me to the sofa. He settles me down in his lap like before and I don't resist; I've come to like the sensation of someone holding me.

"What about us being different?"

"Our lifestyles, us… Everything."

"We've done okay so far."

"That's just because you're, you." I smile.

"What do you mean?" He laughs.

"You're too sweet! I find it hard to stay mad at you."

His chuckling breaths vibrate through me.

"Well I'm not going to change; I'll always have that quality."

"I know… But I work and you don't. You read and I don't. You have achieved all these things and I can't even feed my sister. We have different interests."

"Katniss, I'm not going to let you struggle. I told you that before. But I'm not going to take anything away from you either. You'll still work, I'll still paint." He tells me. "So what if we have different interests? We don't have to like the same things or do everything together. At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is that we enjoy each other's company. Do you enjoy my company?"

I nod.

"Good. Then I'm sure we'll be fine. We'll just have to get used to how the other works."

"You have a weird superpower." I tell him.

"I do?"

"You're ridiculously calming…"

"What do you mean?"

"The few times I have almost freaked out, you've brought me back."

"Maybe I just don't want to let you go."

I sit up then. I'm still sat on his lap but I'm facing him as opposed to lying on him.

"I don't want to leave." I admit quietly.

"Katniss, I-"

"-Shut up and kiss me."

"But-"

I shake my head.

"Prove that you don't want to let me go." I whisper, resting my forehead against his.

He smiles and slowly leans forwards to capture my lips with his. At first it's incredibly gentle, almost as if he is trying to tell me something without words. Though after a few moments, he pulls my body closer to his and the pace picks up.

My hands knot themselves in his hair as he explores my mouth. His hands are on my hips, gripping tightly. Before long, the fire slowly ebbs its way back into my blood. I shuffle my body closer to his.

His hands rub up and down my spine slowly, lingering against the cotton of my top; I shudder. After a while, I feel a pair of warm hands touch my spine. My top had ridden up slightly, like Peeta's had before.

He stops suddenly.

"I didn't mean to do that. I didn't know your top had pulled up, I'm sorry."

Instead of replying, I put my lips back to his and take hold of his hands. I place them on the small of my back once more and let myself fall into his chest. My actions seem to give Peeta a bit more confidence as he picks me up, his lips not leaving mine, and lays me on my side. He lies next to me.

His hands sit on my bare stomach, not venturing above my bellybutton or below the line of my jeans. I notice how even now Peeta is not suggesting anything more than kissing – like me, he seems content with this.

I decide to be bold again like before and slip one of my hands under his t-shirt. Instead of just grazing his hip like before, I let my fingers explore his stomach. It's smooth and hard; I could be mistaken but I'm pretty sure I count six abdominal muscles. After a short amount of time, both of our hands still and we just kiss.

We only stop when Peeta's phone starts to ring on the table. Pulling apart, we laugh breathlessly for a moment before he answers it. The pizza delivery guy can't get the van down the drive, meaning Peeta must go outside to pay.

He leaves me laid on his couch, trying not to over think about the sudden emptiness.

HI GUYS. HERE IS SOME FLUFF. I HAVE GIVEN YOU SOME FLUFF BECAUSE I HAVE WRITTEN MOST OF THE NEXT CHAPTER AND I WANTED TO APPLOGISE IN ADVANCE.

Can I just personally thank every single person who has reviewed on this story? In just 6 chapters, I've obtained 60+ reviews? That is crazy. Beyond crazy. Thank you so much guys! I have loved reading your predictions for what Peeta's big secret was – some of you were so close!

The backstory of Peeta working for the Capitol will slowly develop and it'll get more and more awesome. Why don't you try and guess what the big thing next chapter will be? I love it when you try to guess :D

See you next chapter!

Can I just say, no this is not M-rated. I personally feel this is okay for a T rated fanfiction, which is designed for 13+. There are more sexual scenes in PG movies then that. I had quite a rude message from an author about how this wasn't appropriate. If some more of you feel this way, please let me know and I will alter my writing style. I'm fine with people's opinion, but please be nice about it! I don't deserve abuse. Though in my opinion, I think this is to the same descriptive level as other T-rated fanfictions. I don't think this needs an 18+ rating.