Cai

"Min, you have to help me with Peeta," I plead, trying to convince my sister to take Peeta's food to him.

"No. Peeta's your responsibility. I have enough work of my own to do."

Min pulls the rope tied around the water buffalo, and the animal takes a few lazy steps.

"But Gao doesn't want me around Peeta," I tell her.

"That's not true. If that were true then Gao would be asking me to take care of Peeta, and he's not. You are. So why are you?" she asks.

Not sure how to answer, I just sigh in frustration. Why can't my sister just understand without me having to explain!

"I just feel uncomfortable," I tell her.

She cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"You said he didn't hurt you. That nothing happened. That you just feel asleep…"

"And that's true," I quickly add.

"Then why would you not want to see him?"

Exasperated, I try to explain, hoping she'll understand. She has as much to lose as I do, but she doesn't see that yet. "I want Gao to marry me! I don't want him to think I'd rather be with Peeta. He seems upset when I'm with Peeta, like he's jealous," I tell her.

"Should he be?" Min asks. "Because you do act kind of strange around Peeta. You laugh and smile more. It's very pleasant, actually."

"Min!" I yell, brining my hands up to my hips and stamping my foot. "What difference does that make? I'm supposed to marry Gao. There are reasons for that. You don't know what you are talking about."

"I know you don't act that way around Gao."

She's making me almost as uncomfortable as going to the cave might.

"Gao's not going to marry you, Cai. I'm just telling you the truth. He's got other ideas."

"And you know this how?" I ask her.

"You'll have to talk to Gao about that."

The water buffalo swishes her tail at a fly and shakes her head in complaint that Min isn't moving along to the place where she grazes.

"Maybe I will talk to Gao," I say.

"You should," Min says, raising her eyebrows and giving me a curt nod. Then she walks away, the water buffalo trailing behind her.

/

It's midafternoon before I go to the cave, bringing Peeta all the food I can spare to try to make up for not taking care of him the way I should. Stopping outside the cave I try to gather my courage. Why am I so afraid to see this man who has become so familiar to me? What difference does falling asleep beside him with a book make?

The sound of a voice startles me. I nearly drop the bowls of food I'm carrying, one landing precariously in the crook of my arm. The voice sounds distressed, but I can't make out any of the words. Who could Peeta be talking to out here? Looking around, I don't see anyone else nearby. My heart skips a beat when I consider that a neighbor might have found Peeta and that he could be trying to convince the neighbor not to betray him to the enemy. If that's the case, Peeta needs my help. I quickly drop to my knees and crawl into the cave. I won't abandon him. Not again.

There's a shuffling sound coming from deeper inside the cave. The mumbling continues, and fear rises in me as I round the corner that will allow me to see Peeta and whoever is here with him. I realize the words are ones that I can't understand, except for one, "Cai." He says it twice, both times as if he's desperately calling out to me. I'm not even sure the other words are words, but the sounds of suffering are unmistakable. The words he speaks must be English. Peeta's lying in his usual sleeping place, and he's talking in his sleep. His fingers claw into the stony ground, his nails digging into the fine layer of dust that covers it. His head shakes back and forth once before he starts to mumble again. He's dreaming but appears frightened or in pain in the midst of his dream. Should I wake him, or will that only make the nightmare worse? Some say letting the soul continue on its journey in a dream until it naturally finds its way back is best, but seeing Peeta this way frightens me.

Not thinking much about the consequences I crawl closer and lean over him. My hands hover just above his body as I try to decide whether to wake him. Suddenly I'm hit with the irresistible longing to wrap my arms around his shoulders instead. As if they possessed a will of their own, my arms do just that. My face is suddenly resting at his cheek. My knees painfully scrape against the cave floor, but I don't care. I do lower myself onto my hip to relieve them, though. I'm lying there holding Peeta a moment later when he awakens with a gasp, immediately silent and frozen next to me. I've closed my eyes, but I can feel his head turn. He hasn't shaved in some time, and the friction of his cheek rubbing against mine causes me to lower my head to the crook of his neck. My change in position also means I don't have to look at him yet, eyes open or not. Bringing my hands to one side and drawing my knees up, I lie like a small child as he speaks to me.

"Cai, you're here," he says. He reaches his hand to touch my face, as if to check that I am real. Maybe he didn't think he would be seeing me again so soon. If I'd had my way he wouldn't be.

"You were dreaming," I whisper. "What were you dreaming about?"

He sighs heavily, his chest raising my hands a little and then dropping them back down.

"Oh. Nothing," he says.

"You were talking," I tell him. "And you sounded upset."

"It was a bad dream," he says.

"Oh. What was it about?" I ask, still too curious to let the issue go. The dream couldn't have been about the plane crash if he said my name.

He hesitates for a moment. "It was about bad things happening," he answers vaguely.

"Gao says that bad things are happening."

"Gao's right," Peeta answers, his voice catching at the end of the statement.

"How is Gao? Is he still angry? You'd better sit up, Cai. It's not that I don't want you there, but it might not be…"

"I know. I know," I tell him, raising one hand and patting his chest in the hopes that he'll stop talking. I don't want to hear his explanations as to why I shouldn't be lying here. Reveling in the feel of him near me a moment longer I brush my hair back off my face, but it falls again. Then Peeta brushes it back for me, his fingers lingering longer than necessary against my skin.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that," I whisper.

"Probably not," he admits. Then he reaches for the hand resting on his chest and squeezes it.

"Gao hasn't said anything else about you. He does mention his fears. That the terrible things happening in the cities and other places will happen to us."

I feel Peeta shiver. He suddenly wraps his arm around me, which necessitates him turning a bit on his side to face me. Wide-eyed, I stare up at him as his eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"Is that what you dreamed of, Peeta?" He doesn't have to answer. I know already. "Is that why you said my name?"

Peeta gently brings my hand to his lips, pressing my folded fingers against them for a moment. I feel my whole body relax at the pleasantness of the affection. How does he know how to make me fade in this way? "I don't want to be the reason something bad happens to you," he explains. "That's why I'm going to leave tomorrow."

I pull my hand away, struggling to grasp what he's just said. Leave! He can't leave! The weakness of want that I felt a moment earlier leaves me, and I sit up with a start.

"I need you to tell me a little more about the nearest villages," he continues, sitting up beside me. "I'm going to have to steal a little food as I go, unfortunately. Not too much. I'll go from village to village, mostly at night."

"Peeta! You can't. You'll die," I tell him, my face dropping into my open hands once the terrible prediction leaves my mouth.

"Walking is getting easier," he assures me. "I'll spend most of the day resting and travel at night,"

"No! You'll be caught, or you'll starve. There's nothing here but farms and very small villages. There's nobody to help you. Even the Chinese soldiers are so far from here. Is this because we aren't treating you well?" I ask, desperately hoping my neglect of him hasn't brought on his desire to leave. "We can do better. We can –"

"No," he interrupts, "I can't believe how kind you and your family have been."

"Then it's all for nothing! You're going to throw your life away!" I say angrily, raising my gaze to meet his eyes. He's taken aback by my stern expression.

Peeta sighs heavily and looks away, "I just want you to be safe."

"I won't be safe either way, Peeta. This is my country. Listen to me. You'll never survive traveling so far. If it were possible we would have helped you to do it already."

He's not convinced he shouldn't leave. Not at all. He starts asking questions about the villages, questions I refuse to answer. Faster and faster he makes plans, and listening to him makes my head spin. Why won't he stop? Why does he insist on this plan that can only have one final outcome? I finally lean into him and lie my head helplessly against his shoulder, my body coming to rest against his side. My mind wanders to dark places. I'll never know what happens to him if he leaves. I won't be there to cradle him in my arms as I did the night his fever threatened to take him. He'll die alone.

He's going on about the villages and how sorry he'll be to have to steal food from anyone but that he must. An odd warm feeling comes over me, a stirring inside that's familiar in Peeta's presence but so much stronger than it has ever been. Usually I simply ignore it, but I won't this time. I'm convinced of what I must do. I know how, after all. Gao showed me.

In one motion I sit up straighter, turn to face Peeta and lean toward him. Not giving him much time to back away I press my lips against his forcefully and feel his whole body stiffen with surprise. He takes in a sharp breath through his nose, out of shock, I believe. Then his lips begin to move softly. They part slightly, opening my lips with them. I turn my head, allowing the kiss to deepen as his tongue finds mine. I'm startled by the newness of the feelings he's igniting. The stirring inside me grows. Instead of wanting to suppress it out of fear as I have before, I want it to rise and continue. But where will it stop?

Haven't I felt some of this alone at night when I thought of him before sleeping? But with him right here before me everything is so much more intense, and before I didn't know how to imagine his tongue gently stroking mine. Maybe there are other things I've never imagined. His hands hover at my sides, and I want him to touch me. He doesn't. Instead, he keeps kissing me. A soft groan escapes him, different from the ones I heard when he was in pain, but no less primal. His hands land on my upper arms, then trail down my sides to my hips, embracing me with an energy I wasn't expecting when longing for his touch. I feel the need to move, my body screaming for me to move. Closer to him? Is that what it wants? I inch closer, and Peeta leans back in response before pulling away from our kiss with a gasp.

"Cai, we have to stop," he pants, turning away slightly and seeming embarrassed.

"Did I do it wrong?" I ask him.

Even though he's turned to the side a bit now, I can see him squeeze his eyes shut. "No," he says, still panting. "No. You did it right."

"Then why did you stop?" I ask.

He doesn't answer. He's concentrating. I settle down close to him and take his hand in mine.

"It'd be easier for me if you didn't touch me right now," he whispers gently.

"Why, Peeta?" I ask, mimicking his tone.

"It would just help me. Just for now," he says. The gentleness in his voice soothes my fears. He's not angry, but he won't meet my eyes. "Just, talk about the weather or something," he suggests.

"I'll do better than that. I'll get your food," I offer, crawling up to the cave's entrance to retrieve the bowls of rice, vegetables, and soup. Peeta visibly relaxes as I move away, and I wonder again if I did the kissing wrong. When I return Peeta gives me a crooked smile, his blue eyes sparkling. To break the tension now between us I begin to tell him what's been happening in the farm since we last spoke. Then he starts telling me about another of his favorite books. It takes place on a farm in America. I listen as he tries to find the right words to explain the story accurately. His foreign yet familiar voice lulls me into thinking of our kiss and how it made me feel.

"There's extra food today," I tell him, pointing to a small bowl of soup I've brought.

"Really? Extra? I thought there might be less lately."

Guilt squeezes my heart within my chest. I've neglected brining him what he needs out of my own fear, and I know it.

"Have you had enough water?" I ask.

"Just ran out this morning," he answers. Does Peeta suspect I've been avoiding him?

"Thank you for waking me," he says.

"I'm glad that helped but sad you had those dreams. They won't come true."

"How do you know?" He asks, taking the last bite of his rice and reaching for the soup as he waits for my explanation.

"Because I'm not afraid," I whisper. "I'll do what I must to survive."

Peeta shakes his head, the crooked smile returning. I'm not sure what he's thinking.

"Do you still want to leave?" I ask him, no longer able to suppress my desire to know what his plans might be.

"Cai, I never wanted to leave," is his only reply.