Autumn in Thirteen is beautiful. I'm not sure in all my time here I ever truly appreciated it. When you grow up amidst great Redwoods and other building-sized trees, any other foliage pales in comparison. But there was something quaint about the smaller trees, proud with their paint splatter of oranges and reds that put me at ease. The scent of falling leaves is one that you couldn't even try to bottle - it was unique, but familiar to everyone.

I swung gently in the hammock in my backyard, one I had built using Finnick's knot-tying techniques. So essentially it was a huge net, but it served the purpose of hammock-ing. The chill of the pre-Winter days wasn't as bad here as it was back home, but it was enough for me to light the fire pit. The flickering flames bit at the sky, tossing the embers high into the air.

Life had settled down some since Annie told me about the cancelled wedding. Lilac had practically vomited the story to me a few days after Annie left, excitedly telling of Effie Trinket's failure as an event planner. Apparently, all was well up until just before the ceremony. When Katniss went inside her home to change into her dress, she never emerged. Mrs. Everdeen came out a few minutes later saying Katniss was gone. A bag, a bow, and a broken window was all that was left in her wake.

Lilac described Peeta as almost a robot. Everyone was scrambling to look for her, as if she had gone missing, but he didn't move. He knew, I had told her. He knew that was not missing. She had left him. I guess this information was supposed to make me happy, but it didn't. I'm not bitter enough to be happy at Peeta's misfortune. We were both idiots for letting ourselves get fooled into thinking Katniss could be tamed. That the girl on fire could ever be housed into a controllable flame. We're still torture buddies, but it's Katniss on the other end of the emotional beatings, not Snow. Same result, less visible scars.

I suppose the only issue was nobody had seen or heard from Katniss since. Four months to the day since she abandoned Peeta, and still no one had heard from Panem's savior. Just about everyone Katniss knows had called me, asking if I had seen the brunette. I explained curtly that I had not, and that if I did, I will send the Capitol her corpse. Because I will have killed her. People stopped calling me after a while.

Over the crackle of flames I can hear a rustling in the fallen leaves. I don't get too worried, though, because there aren't many bears here like there are back home. It's probably some idiot squirrel too dumb to figure out which tree is his new home. As the noise gets closer I realize that it's too heavy to be a squirrel. To light to be a bear. I go to get out of my hammock and promptly spill onto the grass. "Fuck," I whisper, scrambling to my feet as noiselessly as possible. The other movement stops. Slowly I creep around the side of my house, brandishing a small, handheld axe from next to the fire pit. I twirl it around my hand, stretching my fingers and wrapping them tightly around the wooden handle.

I can see only the shadow of the person stalking outside my house, since my fire and the starlight are the only sources of illumination. I begin to walk with more purpose. When I'm close enough, I shove the person against the side of the house and put my axe into the wall next to his or her's head, the handle pressing into their throat. But the sound of struggling that I hear I recognize. My pupils dilate as I try to see this person in the dark. "Let me go, Johanna." The annoyed tone surprises me, but I try to recover as quickly as I can.

I wrench the axe from the wall, still holding it defensively. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Katniss rubs at her throat, stretching her neck out. Drama queen, I think to myself with an eye roll. I barely even touched her. "What do you think I'm doing here, brainless? I'm here to see you."

I continue holding the axe out to my side, aimed to toss it at her skull at any moment. This doesn't go unnoticed by her and before I can protest, she's unsheathed her bow and is pointing an arrow directly at me. "Here to see me? I'm sure I was clear about never wanting to see you again. So as far as I'm concerned, you're trespassing. And I reserve the right to kill trespassers."

Katniss quirks her eyebrow, tilting the bow to the side. "So go ahead then. But we both know I'll have this arrow through your throat before you can even let go of that axe." She's probably right, but I don't back down. Seeing her again floods me with emotions I had long ago buried underneath me. Anger, resentment, love, lust, despair, and a myriad of other, equally conflicting feelings.

"Then you'd be doing us both a favor, sweetheart," I seethe. She looks slightly startled, but remains composed. You can take a girl out of the arena, but you'll never take the arena out of the girl. I drop my axe onto the ground, and with my hands in the air begin walking toward her. She backs up until her elbow is against the house. I continue forward until my neck is directly touching the tip of the arrow. "Come on, Katniss. Just do it. I'm sure you've pictured this moment. When we were in the arena, maybe? When we were in the Training Center? I'm sure you thought about how you might have to kill me. How much easier it would be than killing Finnick." I narrow my eyes, pressing until the arrow pierces my throat and a small trickle of blood appears. "You have to save Peeta, remember? So you'll just let that arrow soar through my head. Not any different than any other Tribute you've killed, right? Nothing gets in the way of Katniss and Peeta. And there's no one left who loves me. No one will miss me."

Katniss' breathing is heavy, and she doesn't let go of the bow. "Is that what you think of me?"

"It's what you think of me."

"That's not true," she whispers, her fingers clenching at the arrow. I haven't stopped staring into her eyes, because a part of me thinks this actually might be the last time I see them. If she sneezes, I'm done for. But at least I wouldn't be miserable anymore. "You weren't just a means to an end, Johanna. I care about you."

I would laugh, but with the arrow's tip nestled into my throat, it's not a wise decision. So I just smirk. "Is that so?" She nods. "You care about me like someone cares about a fatally wounded dog. Sad, but best to put it out of it's misery, right? You tried, back by the Block, to do it there. The only part of me that didn't die that day is this stupid fucking body that won't quit. But I gave up a long time ago. So just do it." My voice is strangled by the end, tears prickling the edges of my eyes.

Katniss trembles and for a split second, I think she almost loses control of the bow. Instead she loosens the tautness and slowly drops the arrow from the bow. Her eyes go to the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. "You must really hate me."

I shake my head, letting out a small chuckle. A slow trickle of blood begins running down my chest, drying almost instantly and itching my collarbone. "That's the thing, Katniss. I want to hate you so bad. I did for a while. But now...I don't feel anything for you." I turn around, picking up my axe from the ground and begin around the side of my house to the backyard again. I toss a bucket of water onto the fire, snuffing out the small flames. I leave the bucket beside the fire pit, and wordlessly go back inside my house.

I'm settled on my couch when I hear the door open and slam shut, shaking the windows. Katniss storms inside, her arms straight at her hips. "Liar."

"Excuse me?"

She falters for a moment, but licks her lips and continues. "You're lying. I know you feel something for me. I don't know what it is, but it's something. You said you loved me."

"I'd have said the sky was purple and Snow was my father so you'd continue fucking me, Twelve. You get a girl all worked up, she'll say whatever she needs to." Off Katniss' surprised, and then injured stare, I grin. "Is that not the answer you were hoping for? Did you really think I'd be sitting in this cabin, waiting every day until you came back to me? Is that how fucking pathetic you think I am?"

"I don't think you're pathetic."

"Could've fooled me." I let out a sigh, putting my head in my hands. "So what happens now? You leave Peeta at the altar - nice, by the way," I jab derisively, "and you just crawl back to poor, hopeless Johanna?"

Katniss sets her lips in a firm line. "She said this was going to be hard."

"Who?"

Katniss rolls her eyes. "Annie."

That fucking crazy bitch. I glare up at Katniss, nearly snarling. "What did she tell you?"

Katniss makes herself comfortable in one of my chairs, placing her bow and quiver on the ground, as well as a backpack I hadn't seen until now. Not that it matters, but she looks so stupidly beautiful with her sweaty, dirt-smudged face I want to punch her in the mouth. "After the um, wedding, I didn't know where to go. So I got on a train and it took me to Four. Annie didn't get back for another week, but then I stayed there with her. She's really come a long way since Finnick died."

"Goodie."

"Anyway, we talked. And she told me she came to see you after I left." I nod. "And she told me I needed to come here and apologize. But that you were probably going to be difficult. Not that it takes a mind reader to know that you like to make things harder than the need to be."

I quirk my eyebrow. "So you come here and insult me? That's your apology? No wonder you have so many friends."

Katniss grunted in frustration. "I'm not good at this."

"The groveling? Yeah, you kinda suck at it."

"I don't grovel."

"You should."

"Well I don't." She lets out a long sigh, and then rummages through her bag. "Do you remember, back at the Block, when we said that whoever won the sparring match got to ask the other one a question?"

My mind tries to flurry back to that event, and I vaguely remember. I also remember losing because Katniss kissed me and I lost my senses. Just like I do every other time she has kissed me. I frown sourly at the thought of what a pathetic loser I am when it comes to her. "Sure."

She pulls out a syringe and flicks the vial with her finger. My eyes widen and she breaks out into a small smile. "Well I'm going to ask you that question, and I need you to be honest. And even though you're a poor liar, I don't exactly trust you to say what you really feel. And you don't trust me, for good reason. So we're going to use this."

"We sure as fuck are not going to use that," I reply shaking my head. "You break my heart, then twist a knife in the bloody remains by almost marrying Peeta, and you think I'm going to honor an agreement we made over a year ago?"

She nods. "Yup." She stands up and walks over to me and I back up against the couch.

"Don't come near me with that."

"Don't be such a baby, Johanna. It's not going to hurt. And it only works for like thirty minutes." She grabs my wrist and I struggle against her, but my months of poor diet have rendered me without as much stamina as normal. Without warning she punches my temple and I'm temporarily dazed. I feel the injection like a small pinch, and even as my sight becomes clearer, everything looks like I'm seeing it underwater.

Katniss sits on the coffee table in front of me, staring into my eyes intently. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like some bitch just stabbed me in the arm."

Katniss laughs, and I see her toss the syringe on the floor. My body suddenly feels warm, like I'm a fetus inside the womb. Safe. Cozy. It seems like hours go by before Katniss speaks again. "When did you know that you loved me?"

I laugh dreamily, lolling my head back and forth on the couch. I can remember the moment vividly, even though I'm not sure I've ever really thought about it. "When you brought me the pine when I was in the hospital. I had the hots for you when I walked in that elevator. But that's when I knew it was more. Even though it was stupid."

I can see a tear escape Katniss' eyes and I frown. I've made her sad. I didn't mean to make her sad. She should inject herself with that shit because I feel amazing. "It wasn't stupid. I think I loved you a little then, too." She sighs. "I think I loved you a lot, actually."

My impulse is to remark with something mean, but I can't. This flood of good feelings is making it impossible. "But you also love Peeta. And therein lies the problem."

She muses on that a moment, then clears her throat. "Do you still love me?"

"More than life itself," I reply in a whisper. I'm suddenly feeling extremely lethargic. Something about this incredible emotional high makes me want to sleep. I narrow my eyes at her. "But I don't want to be with you." Off Katniss' bewildered look I shake my head. "I don't want to be with you if I can't have all of you. I'm all or nothin', Katniss."

She smiles warmly at me, nodding her head. "If only you were this easy to talk to when I didn't drug you."

"You just like to talk about yourself," I reply with a grin. I made a joke. Katniss looks unhappy for a moment, but then chuckles. I lean over, resting my body on my plush couch. I snuggle into the fabric. "I was so sad when you were gone. Every day, I wished so hard that I would just never wake up again. But every day, I kept waking up. That stupid sun kept coming up over the horizon, and I kept living each day. But it didn't feel like living, not really. It felt like dying every day. The only time I really felt like I was living was when I was with you. But you left."

Katniss kneels on the floor in front of me, stroking my hair. I can see how hard she's crying and it makes me feel bad. "I'm so sorry, Jo. I was confused. I didn't...I didn't know you felt that way about me. And I didn't know how I felt about you. The fact that it felt so right, being with you, when I knew it was wrong...it scared me."

"I would've waited," I confess, tucking hair behind her ear. I cup her chin, stroking the soft skin of her face. "Oh, wow, saying that made my stomach hurt. But yeah, I would've waited. I think I'd wait until the end of the world if I knew you'd be there." Her beautiful eyes look into mine, and I feel even warmer than before. "Please don't leave me anymore."

"It's not going to be easy."

I chuckle. "Nothing is easy for us, Katniss. We're two tough bitches and a lot of the time we fight. We fight, and we make up, and we have the most incredible sex I've ever had." Katniss blushes. "Seriously. But that's just how we are. You're an idiot if you don't know that."

"I think the serum is wearing off," she replies with a smirk.

"Nah, I still feel good. C'mere, lay with me." In the effort of motioning toward myself, I tumble onto the floor. Katniss pushes the coffee table back with her calves, stifling her laughter. "You drug me and then you laugh at me? What the hell?"

Katniss lays down beside me, and I snuggle into her body, even though she's a bit shorter than me. It feels so warm, so incredibly right, to be with her like this. It's a contentment I'm not sure I've ever truly felt. "How do you feel?"

I press my lips against the soft skin of her clavicle. I feel her shudder. "Home." That's the last thing I do before I pass out.

When I wake up, I feel like I drank two kegs of rubbing alcohol. My head is pounding and my neck is sore. I realize that I'm on my bed, and not on the floor, where I had fallen asleep. I can't remember much from when Katniss pushed the syringe into my arm. Only that she cried, and that I fell on the floor. The words we spoke are a jumble, like someone took them and tossed them about like confetti.

Dressed in pajamas I rarely wear, I stumble down my stairs to the smell of food cooking in the kitchen. Food cooking? I don't think I've spent more than five minutes in that kitchen before, let alone used the stove. But when I sleepily walk into the kitchen, Katniss is busy stirring a pot. "What the fuck?"

Katniss doesn't turn around, she simply laughs. "Good morning to you, too."

"Good morning? Did you stay here last night? And are you the reason my head is pounding?"

She turns to me, nodding. She wipes her hand on a towel and tosses it on the counter. I also then realize the place is clean. There's not uneaten containers of food everywhere, and broken or empty liquor bottles all over the floor. "Yes to both of those."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into that serum."

Katniss bit the inside of her cheek. "You didn't exactly let me. I punched you and then you didn't have a choice." I glare at her angrily. "You'd have done the same to me. I mean, I think a light bump to the head is preferable than a coil of wire to the temple."

I snort. "A coil of wire to the head is better than a fucking chainsaw to the heart, asshole. So we're nowhere near even." Katniss frowns. "What? Did you think I'd magically wake up and we'd be okay again?"

She sighs. "Ideally, I guess I did. But practically, no, I did not." She motions to the stove. "I made food. You are really too skinny."

"Yeah, well, don't have much of an appetite when you want to kill yourself," I mumble, sliding into the stool at the high breakfast counter. Katniss looks down at the floor guiltily. She turns off the stove, pouring the food into a bowl. I inhale. It smells fruity. "It's cherry oatmeal."

"Do you not like cherries?"

I begin scooping embarrassingly large amounts of the grain into my mouth. "I fucking love cherries, Katniss. I didn't even know you could still get them." She beams proudly, crossing her arms over her chest and watching me eat. For effect, I let out a few more appreciative groans. "This," I point to the bowl with my spoon, "is almost better than sex."

Katniss chuckles, a small blush coming up her neck. You can hardly tell because she's so tanned, but it's definitely there. After all this time, I can still make her a little uncomfortable. "Well I'm glad you like it." I scrape the bowl with my spoon, attractively licking the outer rim of the bowl. She laughs again. "There's more." She goes to put the extra into my bowl and I wave her off.

"Forget the bowl, gimme the pot." She follows my instruction and I use the large wooden stirring spoon to wolf down the remaining oatmeal. "Geez, Twelve. Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

She shrugs. "My mother was... oftentimes a little too distracted to cook. So I had to take care of Prim." I nod, putting the pan over my head to allow the rest of the meal to drip into my mouth. "Your table manners are pleasant."

I shoot her a glare. "Fuck off, Effie."

She balks, taking the pot away from me and putting it into the sink. "She would've left the room if she had seen you eat like that. Be glad she wasn't your escort."

I chuckle. "For more reasons than one," I mumble under my breath. Katniss raises her eyebrow but I shake my head. "Another time. Anyway, what was your plan, Miss Everdeen? Show up at my house in the middle of the night, drug me, and then live in my house?"

"More or less," she smiles. "I didn't mean to get here so late. I got a little lost."

"So you sneak up on me in the dead of night, drug me, strip me and dress me, then make me breakfast in the morning aaaand what? All is forgiven? Because I'm still mad at you."

She shakes her head, leaning against the counter. "I am prepared to be at the mercy of your anger, Jo." I raise my eyebrow suggestively. She doesn't flinch. "In whatever manner that anger comes in. But I'm not leaving." I bite my lip and she clears her throat. "I've done a lot of running away. Like a lot. Not just after we..." Oh come on, Katniss. She can't even say the words 'had sex' or 'fucked like bunnies.' It's cute. "But even before that. After they ruined Twelve, I just didn't feel like I had a home anymore. I thought home was with Peeta, but it wasn't." My jaw clenches at the mention of his name, even though I know better. Peeta is not my problem, Katniss is. But the reflex is involuntary. "It wasn't until you and I started getting closer in Thirteen that I felt at ease anywhere."

"So naturally, you booked it," I add sarcastically.

"I guess. I just, I thought it was because of the fighting. That it was because that's what comes most naturally to me. That it was okay that I go home to Peeta, in his arms, just so I could go back here and beat the crap out of you. But something changed. I changed. Suddenly, it was your arms I wanted to go home to. I wanted your voice to calm me down from my nightmares. I wanted your hands on me...all over me. And that scared me."

"Why?"

"Because you're not exactly a teddy bear, Jo." I smirk. "I didn't think you felt the same way about me. I figured we were kind of just using each other to 'scratch an itch' as you so eloquently put it. So when you told me you loved me...I realized that this was real. This wasn't some fantasy I could keep living. I had to make a decision." I avert my gaze to the counter, suddenly finding the stone slab extremely interesting. It was not fun to relive that moment. That hurt. Katniss' gentle hand on my chin, forcing my gaze upward from the other side, shakes my thoughts. "I made the wrong decision."

"I've always said you were an idiot," I reply in a whisper, and she just runs her fingers through my hair. My body betrays me and I tremble.

"Yes, and you are right. Sometimes." She continues stroking my hair, leaning her weight on the counter, her other arm tucked beneath her chest. "I was an idiot that day. But I didn't know you felt the same way, and you didn't give me a chance to explain."

"When you open your heart to someone and they don't respond, it's not exactly wise to keep it open so they can throw salt in there."

"I wanted to respond."

"But you didn't," I clarify needlessly. Her hand never stops stroking my hair. It feels so wonderful to have her touching me again. "So I built this house. This house is built on anger and disappointment. Welcome."

She lets out a sad chuckle, cocking her head. "Do you remember at all what you said to me last night?"

Trying to recall the memories feels like trying to grasp something in the water. It looks like it's there, but all of a sudden it shifts and I can't find it. A trick of the light. "Not really. I remember falling off the couch." (Later on I can recall all the events, in embarrassing detail. But at that moment, in the morning, I couldn't remember jack.)

Katniss walks around the kitchen counter, and I spin on the stool to face her. She positions herself between my legs, her wrists resting on my shoulders. She begins absent-mindedly stroking the back of my neck. Even though I'm still pissed off at her, my body again betrays me and I begin to feel warm. When she leans into to kiss me, I back off the stool. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I sputter, clutching the long strands of my hair. "I don't think I can do this again. I didn't win the Games, fight a Rebellion, get tortured, get my heart fucking stomped on, and spend the last year or so depressed so you can waltz back in here with your amazing oatmeal and gorgeous body and ruin me again."

"I don't want to ruin you," she pleads softly. "I want you to let me love you." I don't answer back. I just begin pacing a little, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "I'll do whatever it takes," she says lowly. She looks so distressed trying to beg, it would be cute if I wasn't still so angry. But I can feel her words chipping slowly away at the wall I've built around myself. "I love you."

"Just get out." My response stuns her and she just stands there dumbly. "Did you not hear me?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not leaving."

I let out a laugh. "It wasn't a fucking question, brainless. Get out of my house." My effort at self-preservation means I can't let her in again. I can't do this with her anymore. I'd rather be this moderate level of miserable than get picked up and dropped again. She doesn't move, however. I grab her by the lapels of her jacket and throw her toward the door. She stumbles into the wooden door, wincing as her back hits it.

"No."

I stalk toward her, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt this time. I hold her close to my face. "Get. Out." She shakes her head again and I pull my fist back and strike her in the jaw. I can hear the crack of the bone dislocating, then popping back into place. Her lip bleeds but she just stares into my eyes, unfazed. Roughly she shoves me away from her, but I charge back at her. She tosses me into an end table and my lamp crashes on the floor. I swing my arm at her and she deflects me, twisting it painfully behind my back.

I whip my elbow up and catch her in the temple. She staggers backward, and while I think she's disoriented I go to grab her. Instead she comes at me, taking me by the waist and toppling us both to the floor. We land on the coffee table, crushing it with the force of both of our weight. I kick her off of me, and she catches my jaw with her hand. I finally scramble to my feet, and we both lunge at each other. The force of the lunge pushes us over the couch, toppling the furniture over like a disoriented turtle. We sail over it, crashing into a cabinet. The glass shatters, grazing our skin and tearing it. Bruised and bleeding, I grab her shoulders and slam her into the wall behind us. The plaster cracks with the momentum of her hitting the wall, dust falling to the floor.

I press my lips against hers, tasting the combination of oatmeal, blood and fire in her mouth. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she grips the strands like a vice. I move my lips to her neck, finding the sweet spot on her neck that makes her knees weak. It literally does and I have to hoist her up with my thighs, shoving her back against the wall. She moans loudly, and I pull the skin between my teeth, sucking as hard as I can. Her knees give again and I use my hands to pull her up by the jacket, slamming her back against the wall again. I forcibly remove her jacket, and I simply tear her shirt from the collar down to the hem and discard it on the floor.

She spins me around, pulling my tank top over my head without regard to my face and the material chafes against my nose. She tosses it to the side, and we go tumbling into an unlit room. Her strong arms pin me against the bookshelf; a few of the volumes come tumbling down onto the floor. Her mouth finds my breast and she tongues it roughly, causing me to moan. Her hand comes up and holds me to the bookshelf by the throat. It chokes me a little but I'm so delirious from the pain and the pleasure I don't even notice.

Finding my bearings I lift her up by the hair, capturing her lips in a scorching kiss. Our tongues duel for dominance, like they always do, as I walk her backward toward the desk in the room. In a nimble movement I unbutton her fly, hooking my fingers in her belt-loops and tugging the material to the floor. Reaching around behind us, I swipe whatever is on my desk onto the floor. I grab the back of her thighs and hoist her up onto the desk. I stand in between her legs, wrapping my one arm around her back, pressing my hand against the base of her spine. I use this force to slide my fingers inside her. The gasp I get, somewhere between a strangled cry and a sigh, makes me groan in pleasure. I've missed the sound of her breathing against my shoulder. I've missed the silky feeling of being inside her. I fuck her furiously, and she begins chanting my name like a prayer. I clamp my teeth down on her shoulder, drawing blood as a result of the ferocity with which I'm biting her. She doesn't mind, just bucks her hips even harder against my hand. My name spills gloriously from her lips as she comes.

I don't have time to even breathe before she grabs me by the back of the neck and kisses me, and I can feel her leading me further into the room. I'm backed against a chair and she shoves me down by the shoulders. My pants are quickly discarded to the side, landing unceremoniously atop my desk. She drops to her knees, forcing my legs open with her hands. Her arms encircle my legs, and as soon as her tongue slides along my folds I hiss in gratification.

She stiffens her tongue, plunging it inside me as far as she can. I grab a hold of her hair and press her there, holding her in that spot until I think she's going to suffocate. Then I move her head against me, effectively fucking myself with her tongue. This control, this power, is almost as pleasurable as the act itself. I can feel the orgasm coming upon me rapidly, much more rapidly than I'd like. I move her upward to my clit and she dutifully begins suckling on it, using one of her hands to continue to drill inside me at a pace I can barely keep up with. I shout her name in pure ecstasy, rolling my hips with each slow wave of orgasm.

She doesn't stop, however. Her mouth continues to work inside me, lapping up all the spilled arousal. Her tongue rolls against my throbbing nub mercilessly, and the combination of over-stimulation and gentle stroking work me into another hard orgasm that crashes on me without warning. I use my grip on her hair to pull her away from me, and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. It's so fucking sexy I can't help but let out a stifled moan at the sight. This disheveled girl wiping my sex from her lips, her wide eyes staring at me with such unbridled desire it makes my heart leap.

I slide off the chair onto the floor, kneeling opposite her. Our breathing is erratic, and my heart is beating so wildly I think I'm having a heart attack. Both her hands come up to cup the sides of my face, swiping loose strands from my vision. She bites her lower lip, and I fixate my eyes on her glistening mouth. "Can I stay?"

"Who else is gonna clean up the mess we just made, brainless?" My remark is snarky, but my smile is genuine. She pulls me in for another kiss, tasting now of a sweet combination of both of us that steals my breath away. And while the uncertainty of our future makes me nervous, for the first time in a long time, I feel safe.

A/N: First, thank you all for the words of encouragement and kindness. It's very motivating! Second, I definitely loved how much you guys hated Katniss last chapter; I sort of have a love/hate relationship with Katniss' character (in the book and in this fic). But I hope this made up for it. I think I plan on doing just another chapter or two? I got bitten by my muse for these last two, but I'll have to marinate on any other chapters. Midterms are a cruel mistress.