a/n: sorry for the delay –– dealing with things and stuff and real life doesn't always allow me to update and write when I want to. Thanks to everyone who is reading, has reviewed, favorited, or anything. I'm looking to definitely do an outtake part in Katniss' pov that takes place in parts of this chapter.
Besides the chapter song, used is Minnie Riperton's song "Lovin' You." Also a reference to John Hughes' Sixteen Candles because I just needed a moment of self awareness with where a good deal of inspiration for this came from.
I post about real life, fandom things and writing times on my blog (guys sorry but the elves were edited out) so check it out if you want.

extra thanks to mari and colleen aka my sanity and lifelines, as well as kismet4891 for going over parts in the beginning of this chapter that I was feeling iffy about.

sweet like candy to my soul
sweet you rock, and sweet you roll
lost for you I'm so lost for you
you come crash into me
and I come into you
in a boys dream
crash into me | dave matthews band

.11.

The flames are there, and I can feel their heat. But I'm not in the bakery –– my mind doesn't register this exactly. All it registers is fire, there's fire and I'm surrounded by it. The house is not one I know, but it doesn't matter really, does it? It's about to burn down, with me in it. There's a door behind me, the flames surround it but don't touch it as if it's a parting of the red sea of flames, giving me an exit. But I can't exit, I can't leave. I turn into the house and start walking through it because there's something here, and I need to find it. My leg is burning and I limp, but I try not to pay it mind. I can't pay it mind. I have to get to, to––

Katniss.

It's Johanna's house I realize somewhere within me, and she's sitting at the kitchen table in front of her birthday cake with the candles lit. I see no one else here. The fire is close enough to give off heat and it roars, but it stays back. The smell invades me. I approach slowly, and she doesn't look at me. She just stares straight ahead, her eyes blank. I can see the reflection of the candles in her eyes. The pain of the heat is alive in my leg and I try to ignore it. I go to say her name but my mouth is full of smoke and heat and ash. Somewhere, there's coughing and a cry, but there's no reaction from Katniss about it. When there's only a table between me and Katniss, I try to say her name again but I still can't speak. She needs to get out of here. I need her to get out of here. She doesn't attempt to speak. Flames slither in and out of my vision but I keep my eyes locked on her and I at least will her to look at me.

She does. Her eyes hook me like lured bait and she still is looking at me when she goes to blow out the candles.

But the candles don't blow out but instead engulf a line of fire in front of her as if her breath was gasoline. She doesn't react to it and the flames surround her. I try to talk again but instead I start coughing. The smoke is worse. In order to save her I have to walk through flames.

I take a deep gulp of the ash and step forward.

"Oof!" I wake suddenly and unexpectedly, and I don't know why at first. I still have the smell and taste of smoke in me and I will myself to not start a coughing fit. It's still dark, and for a second I don't know where I am until I feel the hard floor on my back cushioned by a sleeping bag, the warmth of my blanket around me.. And the weight of something on top of me. And the something is shaking, and I hear whatever –– whoever? –– saying "no, no, no," over and over again.

I try and shake my head and get my bearings. It's only been a few hours but I'm pretty sure that all of the alcohol is out of my system. What is on me? Cautiously, I bring my hands to the shape and I feel the shaking. Well, it's most definitely a shape of a person. I try to piece together the night, try to piece together who could've fallen on me––

I gulp audibly and move my hands, not sure if I should be touching her. Then again, she is on top of me, now that I'm more aware I can tell she's curled on her side in the fetal position and on my stomach. I figure she rolled off her mattress. I think for a second of just going back to sleep and stealing this moment with her, but she starts saying, "no, no, no," again and I can't. Because I understand too well, she's having a nightmare.

I move my hands, trying not to touch her prematurely, and bring one to her shoulder and the other where her hands are in front of her by her knees. "Katniss," I whisper and shake her slightly. All around us are the drunken snores of teenagers in deep sleep. I shake her again and repeat her name. After the fourth attempt she freezes for a second and then starts to flail.

"Woah, woah, woah," I say and I try to keep it down. She starts mumbling incoherent things and I try to shush her. "It was only a nightmare," I tell her and I rub her back. She's still on top of me and curled up, but I don't think about it. She's scared out of her mind and I need to calm her down.

Eventually she brings an arm and hooks it onto me as she tries to calm herself down. She straightens herself out from her curled up position, but she stays laying on top of me. Her head lays on my chest, and I'm sure she can feel how hard and fast my heart is beating. I try to not think about it still but god I feel like exploding, in more ways then one. She takes a few deep breaths and clutches me closer for a bit.

And then must realize what she's doing, because she's off of me and nestled between me and the mattress (against the mattress, really), facing away from me on her side. I turn to face her but I keep my distance with my body. Tentatively, I bring my hand up and place it on her back. She suddenly turns to me and I bring my hand back. "Why were you holding me?" She asks me in a whisper. She's drawn into herself and she's looking at me skeptically, and I feel a phantom of her fingers on my arm from just hours ago.

"I woke up to you on top of me," I tell her and her eyes widen. "I think you rolled in your sleep? Anyway uh," I rub my jaw and she watches my movement, which makes me even more self conscious. "I woke up, and then I realized you were there. And that you were having a nightmare. So I figured it'd be best if I woke you up and...yeah."

"How'd you know I was having a nightmare?"

Because I know how it feels to be stuck in one and unable to claw your way out. "You were shaking, and saying no. Guess I put two and two together."

There's barely any light but I don't even need it to know that she blushes at that. "Did I wake you up?" We're still talking in whispers, but she asks this even quieter.

I try to think. Did she really? I'm not sure, because I was going to walk right into flames when I woke up, and something like that is usually where I jolt awake, frozen in fear as if the demons of my subconscious might have followed me. I wasn't about to tell her that she did wake me up though, I'm not going to say something that can sound like I'm blaming her or anything. "No, woke up from my own dream –– ah, nightmare," I explain sheepishly. She doesn't respond, but I think there's a new level of understanding on her part about me; a small one, but it's there I'm pretty sure.

There's silence between the two of us, snores from others being the only thing coming through. "Do you want to talk about yours?" I ask finally.

There's a pause. "No," She says, but after a bit she starts to talk a bit. "It's always the same thing always –– in some form. For a while now."

"Fire?" I guess. Because I understand that. Because all I dream of is either fire or her, or apparently I can get real lucky and have them both in my dream like just before (yay).

"Yeah," she answers startled. And then it's like I can hear her brain working. How she goes through me knowing she had a nightmare, to me having nightmares myself, to understanding that being in a building on fire doesn't ever leave you. How you wake up with the taste of ash in your mouth. I can only imagine how much worse her nightmares are. "Yeah," she repeats, softer. I nod. I'm sure there's more to it than just fire for her. The flames were the worst part of my day in my accident but she dealt with so much worse. Her family, her father. Definitely things that would make an appearance in her night torments, something I was spared of and don't know the depth of. I'm not going to push her to talk about it though. I think of one time Marc had a sleepover and he found me getting myself a glass of water in the middle of the night and tried to ask me what was wrong. I couldn't talk about it –– about my nightmare. He didn't understand it and I didn't know how to make him understand it. He just nodded when I passed off on indulging in the things I dreamt and I barely slept the rest of the night, more of just laying half–unconscious in this weird state of a half dream where I'm still aware of where I was laying and how dark and silent it was around me. Nights are quiet and lonely with terrors taking over your subconscious, and I'm not about to make her relive them to me unless she wants to.

And she doesn't, I can tell. Of course there's a part of me that wants to be trusted in that sort of role in her life, but pushing that isn't the way to go, at all. She's trying to calm her breathing down again, and I tentatively bring my hand from where it sits between us to land on her arm. She doesn't tense under me, but I hear her let out a hard breath as if she was holding it. I gulp strong and we watch each other in the snore–filled darkness. I want to pry apart her brain and know what she is thinking. If she's lost in her nightmares, but more selfishly, what she's thinking of my hand on her, of the two of us stuck looking at each other. I couldn't look away if I wanted and I wonder if it's the same, to some degree on her. I think about maybe squeezing her arm to get some message across (which though?) but the thought feels dumb, like I'm some coach saying "good job" after their player lost and I'm trying to make them feel like it's not their fault when it totally is. But leaving my hand just there is like a flopping fish out of water. I slowly let away some pressure and before I realize what I'm doing, my fingertips trail her arm slowly up and down, up and down. I make the connection a beat too late that this is what she was doing to me before we fell asleep, that this is probably not something that I should be doing, that she wants. I don't even know if she remembers doing it, if the alcohol and almost–asleep state erased it from her mind.

But I realize she must when her breath comes out shaky. I will myself not to tense at it, I try not to let it be known the effect she always has on me, and how it seems completely amplified and now she's so close that she can definitely notice it. Her breathing evens out (and mine does too, thankfully) after a couple of minutes, and I see her eyes drooping. She has her blanket wrapped around herself since she fell with it like that, but it seems like she isn't going to be moving from her spot. "Go back to sleep," I murmur under my breath and force myself to not move that one piece of hair that's spilling out of the braid she put in for sleep. I want to. I want to feel if her hair really is how soft I think it is and I want to unravel the braid and see her face framed by the dark ink of hair around her. Fuck, I want to drag my fingers through her hair in the morning after sleep and feel it catch on bed head knots. But I don't. She breathes deep and nods as she turns away from me. Which I expected, but what I didn't expect is that instead of rolling away from me and closer to the mattress, she rolls towards me.

Fuck. If I had a ruler I'd be able to measure the actual distance between us (between our bodies), but it can't be any more than six inches. Half a foot between her back and my chest, and she rolled with my hand still on her so there it lays still on her (other) arm. I don't know if she wants me to move it. I want to pull her against me and rest my head against her cheek, inhale the scent of her and have our bodies aligned and touching. The thought hums through me but I don't move. I can't, goddammit. That's crossing a fucking line that's taunting me and my hand is still on top of her arm. I wonder if I should move it off of her, I probably should, but now it's been a while where we've sat in silence between us and the idea of just taking my hand away seems awkward. As awkward as just leaving it there laying on her, Mellark?

I mentally shake my head. Katniss doesn't say anything else and her breathing (which I can feel under my hand) slows down to deep breaths. Just go to sleep, I tell myself. Go to sleep, it's not a big deal if she went to sleep herself without saying anything or forcing you to remove your hand. I sigh lowly and I feel her shift her body from underneath my hand, as if she wants my hand upon her more, as if it's comfort or just simply a touch wanted and desired. Or maybe she wants it off of her, she wants to be far away from me. I'm laying still but she doesn't make to move away from me or show being uncomfortable. I'm laying still, frozen solid on my side but my mind runs marathons with her skin under my hand burning an inferno. I feel the warmth travel through me, how it tingles through my fingertips and spreads to my whole hand, how it crawls up my arm in an agonizing slow pace and shudders through my shoulders, how it hits my back and all at once seems to coat the rest of my body like another blanket, or rather the season of summer atop of me. I close my eyes so I can't see the dark silhouette of her against the night. I fall into a peaceful state of unaware.

It's laughter that wakes me up. I'm not completely sure of anything else around me or anything, but I hear laughter and there's words being spoken. It's a female voice, and there's another slow quiet chuckle that join as well as some sound I can't identify.

I clutch the blanket I'm holding onto tighter as I try to piece what exactly is going on in my sleeping brain. I try to think if I have to get to the bakery, but I remember that I don't work this morning, that I'm not home, that I'm laying on the floor of Johanna Mason's house. I'm warm, warmer than I could really remember ever waking up, and it feels wonderful. I can't remember my dreams and that's even more wonderful. I try to remember more of the night. I drank, we all drank, there was loud music, there was Katniss, there was Katniss deliberately evading me, there was Katniss getting her birthday cake, there was Katniss running her fingers down my arm, there was Katniss who fell on top of me, who rolled towards me.

I open my eyes a slight bit.

There's Katniss laying with her body against mine, my arms wrapped around her, which I thought was a blanket, her arms I now feel around my waist and her head pressed underneath my chin. I will myself not to tense up but I come uncomfortably aware of how tight my pants feel at this moment.

Dear fucking god, why?

I want to hide but the only way I can in this moment is by burying my face in Katniss Everdeen's hair. I don't, but I note how it smells like wood and vanilla and try not to get more hard. It's the greatest thing I ever smelled, and working in a bakery has me smelling amazing things on a daily basis. I think about moving but her hands are still around me and I don't want to bring attention to the fact that I'm awake to anyone. I think she's awake as well, because her breathing seems like she's trying too hard to sound like she's asleep. You know, kind of like mine right now too.

Laughter comes again, laughter that I've heard a great deal of for the past couple of weeks. I keep my face from wincing but that's all I want to do, well, besides crawling into a dark hole and never seeing anyone ever again. Another odd sound, and it takes me a bit to realize that it sounds like a polaroid being taken. Great.

"You think we should wake the lovebirds?" I hear her voice whisper. There's no other sound and I wonder if every person is just sitting around watching us.

"Don't be mean about it, Johanna." Of course it's Madge that says that and all I want to do is hug her but, oh right, I'm in the arms of the girl I've been in love with for almost my entire life and I don't even know how that happened, really.

"I'd never dream of being mean about it," Johanna tells her amused, and I can almost feel Madge's eyeroll.

A weight falls on top of us as Johanna starts singing in an overly dramatic manner, "Lovin' you, is easy 'cause you're beautiful..." She's laying across us and I feel her roll closer to us, bringing her face towards ours as she continues, "Makin' love to you is all I wanna do."

I open my eyes and look down as I feel Katniss move her head and look up at me. We're still for a moment as Johanna continues singing (lovin' you is more than just a dream come true...), and we turn to look at her. She grins wickedly, and the moment kind of falls into us both at once as we start to try to scramble away from each other. But with Johanna on top of us we can't seem to, as if she's holding us together (I wouldn't be surprised if she was).

There are footsteps coming down and I hear a big yawn. "Did I miss the orgy memo?" Gale's voice asks and Johanna's laughter rings out close to us again. I groan, my headache suddenly pounding and I need to get away from all of these people now.

"Johanna get off," I bite at her, and she finally moves away as me and Katniss both roll away from each other. I'm wrapped up in my blanket still and I try to think of other things now that I'm away from Katniss, like crusty milk or my brothers beating the shit out of me during a blizzard years ago and leaving me in the snow so I can get rid of my asshole boner that of course I had to wake up with on this morning. I was pressed against Katniss entirely, every inch of my front against hers, but I try not to think about it, try not to think about the fact that she felt all of me, and work on working myself down. My headache does help with this though, brings my attention to the pounding in my head instead and helps me get a control of things.

"How did you sleep?" Johanna asks.

Wonderful. After my nightmare, after falling asleep with Katniss nearby and my hand upon her, I've never slept better. She ended up in my arms. I will probably never sleep better.

"Where is everyone?" Katniss asks, trying to avoid the subject. I wonder how she slept. From what I noticed before we rolled away from each other, I still seemed to be in the same area that I was in. So was it Katniss who moved, who came towards me and brought her arms around me first.

Gross, month–old milk sitting in summer heat. I repeat it like a mantra.

I'm not looking at anyone, and all I know of are Katniss, Johanna, Gale, and Madge being here. "Everyone else left when they woke up, whenever that was. You didn't answer my question though, Kitty Kat." Johanna's voice is sing-songy by the time she's calling Katniss Kitty-Kat.

Katniss groans. "I told you not to call me that."

"And I told you before to not fuck on my basement floor. I thought I was just joking but apparently..."

I huddle further under my blanket.

Katniss' voice is harsh. "Nothing. Happened." I can imagine her jaw clenched.

"Well, whatever happened, it's your birthday and I hope you got everything you wanted." I hear her shift and sigh. "Anyway, I'll be done picking on you two. Let's go have some breakfast, and then I can start driving your asses home."

I hear people start to go up the stairs and eventually I get up as well when I'm certain that there's no visible bulge in my pants that show just how much my body enjoyed being aligned with Katniss'. I hear her standing up as I do and I happen to look over at her at the same time she looks over at me. I feel myself redden, and she's blushing as well as we both look away.

"Mornin'," I manage to get out, and she repeats it to me. It's silent and awkward as hell between us and I think about asking her how she slept as we make our way to the stairs just for some small talk but I realize that that is not small talk at all between us. That is awkward, avoid–at–all–costs talk. We make our way upstairs in silence and the place is pretty messy. It's like I expected, with only me, Katniss, Johanna, Gale, and Madge still around. Johanna is cutting into the cake and Gale sits at the table with a big bowl of chips that he's eating mechanically.

"I thought you said we were going to eat breakfast," I ask as Johanna hands me a piece of cake.

She cocks her eyebrow at me. "I'm not cooking. Besides, cake for breakfast is a great thing. You're a baker, I thought that this is your usual breakfast anyway."

I shake my head. "Yeah Johanna. My breakfast is cake, while for dinner I eat a whole plate of cookies and cupcakes."

She takes a bite of her own piece of cake as she waggles her eyebrows at me. "Someone's feisty this morning."

I ignore her and all of us eat our healthy breakfast. I never considered birthday food as hangover food but it's pretty sufficient going along with tea and coffee. Johanna considers taking a hair of the dog that bit her, but since she's to drive us home she refrains.

"Gale, drive Madge home. I'll drive Peeta and Katniss," Johanna directs as she picks up car keys and throws Gale's at him.

He catches them with a slightly confused face. "Madge lives in town though, wouldn't it make more sense––"

"Gale, drive Madge home. I'll drive Peeta and Katniss," she repeats firmly as she walks out her house. The rest of us follow as she locks up, and me and Katniss make our way to Johanna's car, Madge following Gale to his truck. We wave our goodbyes and I start to open the back door. "No, Peeta you'll sit in the front."

I raise my eyebrow at her and frown. She's being extremely particular with our driving home arrangements and I know that it can only mean trouble, and most likely for me. Katniss looks at me and shrugs as she steps into the back. I sit in the front seat hesitantly, or I guess more of it being like sitting in the belly of the beast. Johanna Mason turns to me and shows all of her teeth in a smile as she starts up the car. I'm taken back to weeks ago when she gave me a car ride because my brother stranded me and she had "a bone to pick with me," a game to start. And here we are now, Katniss in the backseat, and me getting a lift home from Katniss' birthday party.

She flicks through the music stations and ends up on a light guitar song with some crooning. I crank open my window slightly so I can get some cold biting fresh air to hit my face. "So, Peeta Mellark. How did you enjoy the party?" Johanna starts off conversationally once she pulls out of her driveway.

My eyes flick into the review mirror but I quickly glance away when I catch grey looking back. How could I even begin with my feelings on the party? My mind automatically flicks to how I woke up this morning, because besides everything that was both good and bad, this may have been my singular most favorite moment of my entire life. I feel a bit guilty with how I sort of stole this moment with Katniss, that we by accident found our way to each other in sleep and darkness, but I would never give it away. I will hold dear to this much and will keep myself with feeling satisfied with anything else that does (doesn't) happen. I'll be okay, because I know how it feels to hold Katniss Everdeen in my arms, even if for just a second or two.

I clear my throat and see Johanna smirking as she drives. '"It was great, thank you ––" I look up into the mirror and deliberately catch Katniss' eyes, "––thank you for inviting me, Katniss."

She bites back a smile but still one comes as she nods and then goes back to not looking at me.

"Well that cake was to die for so I'm pretty sure your bakery connections are just begging for us to have you stick around," Johanna tells me and I laugh quietly under my breath. Despite how much she's been messing with me this morning (these weeks), I truly appreciate her. She's adding talk between the air of all of us within her car and it's the only way that anything would be said. If she didn't, I'm sure we'd be stuck in silence; Katniss with who–knows–what living in her mind and me making sure that the words "I'm in love with you" don't fall out of my mouth. Johanna continues the conversation, I go in and out of listening until we're in front of my house, the car parked and running with the three of us paused for a minute in silence.

And then I realize it and start fumbling with my seatbelt. "Right. Well, thanks again. And uh, thanks for the ride? And –– yeah, everything." My nerves are back and the damn seatbelt is of course giving me a hard time. I almost thank Johanna for not laughing at me at this moment, because I'm sure she wants to. I finally get it and open the door. "I'll see you guys tomorrow –– at school."

"Bye Peeta," Johanna calls out in a singsong and I repeat a goodbye to her. I stand up out of my door and wonder for a second if I should snake in through the opened window and say a goodbye to Katniss when I realize that she got out herself and is standing in front of me.

"I––" We both stammer at the same time and don't know where to go after that. I push back the blush that's threatening to overcome me and scratch at the back of my head in my hair. I'm sure my hair is a mess and it's not helping but it's a bad habit of mine that I've developed when I feel embarrassed and the girl in front of me definitely isn't helping. Katniss looks down at her feet as she bites her bottom lip and taps her toes to the pavement.

"I was going to sit in the front seat that's –– that's why I got out of the car," She explains finally and looks up at me. I nod my head and I think I hear a quiet chuckle from in the car. I'm sure this kind of confrontation could only be chalked up to another Johanna decision, her making me sit in the front with Katniss in the back becoming a bit more clear.

"Well, thanks again Katniss. I'll see you tomorrow," I tell her. I look at her. I want to hug her (kiss her, pin her against Johanna's shitty ass car and lock her still with my body on hers) but I don't let myself do so. Even though we woke up in each other's arms this morning. Even though my hardened cock rested against her stomach. Did she even know? Did she even really understand the effect she has on me?

She gives me a full smile though, one that I haven't seen really, truly, directed at me from her and my heart forgets to beat for a second or two. "I'll see you tomorrow, Peeta." She steps forward, her arms going out and I think for a moment that she's going to hug me. But in the end she just grabs my forearm with one hand, and then trails her fingers down my arms. It's like this is something new that lives between us, fingertips on arms, traveling to create a warmth and goosebumps at the same time. It feels so good and I just want her to do it forever, if this was the only way she'd touch me, I swear I'd be okay with it. I reel it back in though and nod at her and turn to walk towards my house before I do something stupid and give into my wants to chase after this electricity she stirs in me, in the air between us. I turn back only when I'm at the door and I see Katniss sitting with her face beet red and Johanna laughing as she fiddles with the radio. I can only imagine the interrogation scene going on in the car, the kind of thing I would've endured if I got a car ride home alone.

The house is quiet when I get in with only the sound of a television playing from some other room on the second floor. I'm sure it's my mother, she likes to sometimes put on background white noise as she works, and so I tip toe quietly to my room and make my way into the shower. I turn the temperature cold and try to freeze out how warm I feel because I have a ton of homework to finish up and then closing up at the bakery. The day passes by monotonously with me trying to not fall into thoughts from the party and the morning, but they live within me and replay over and over. Jakob is gone all day and every now and then I'll hear my mother on the phone, my dad is at the bakery, and I'm left alone. Work at the bakery goes by quick enough as well. My dad tries to pry about the party but I know he means well, so I let him know it was great and I really enjoyed myself. Did I even have a moment where I wasn't having fun and enjoying myself? Did that first half of the party really happen? Of course it did, and of course when it was happening it was the worst feeling in the world, one that I didn't think would ever be redeemed for the rest of the evening, but I was proved wrong until the bad didn't even compare to the good.

So I tell my dad it was good. Great even. He smiles and nods, realizing I'm not going to indulge in some of my adolescent stories and understanding so. He gives me space and lets me work the last half hour out front. Haymitch Abernathy is our last customer, getting a loaf of bread and a half–dozen cheese buns and I throw in some extra goods since we're going to be closing up and can't sell potentially stale things the next day. He salutes me for it with a shake of his head, and then waves me off without even trying to indulge me in a conversation this time. I change the sign to closed and I rush around with the prep work and clean up.

The night ends and the next day begins and I'm almost bouncing when I'm back in the bakery for the opening shift before I go to school. Because school means a lot of things of course, and although I should be dreading the crit I have in my art class like I always do, I'm anticipating the people. The person, really. Katniss. I think fleetingly of smashing some flour on my cheek purposefully if only for the possibility that she'll wipe it off again. I don't though. I don't have it that bad.

Who am I kidding? I have it so, so much worse.

She's not in my history class when I get in and I think maybe it's just because I didn't run in to the bell ringing like I usually do. But fifteen minutes into the period and she's still not in her seat in the back, twenty minutes, thirty, and then the bell is ringing to have us go to the next class and she never showed up. I wonder if she slept late, or maybe got sick or something, but I dismiss it. It's not my business. For all I know she could just be playing hooky, something I could definitely see Johanna making Katniss do with her.

But at lunchtime I notice that there's one person absent from Johanna's table of four, the same person that was absent from my history class.

I frown in thought as I stare at the blueberry muffin I brought as part of my lunch and pick it apart without eating it. I'm sure I'm overthinking it all. People are allowed to not come to school sometimes, honestly.

"How was your weekend?"

The question rips me from my mind and I look up to see Delly looking at me questioning. Wanting to know more than I can say right here.

I guard the amount I allow myself to smile. "Good. Yours?"

She smiles too. "Good. You work afterschool today?"

"Nope. Want to come over?"

She nods. "You make it easy to invite myself over to your house."

The rest of the day I try not to pay attention to the fact that Katniss isn't around as well as I was hard in math class, where we usually worked together and I suddenly found silence. I was able to do my work, albeit a bit slower and not as entertaining to get to the answers, but it felt really different. I realize how quickly it seemed that I planted Katniss into my school activities, and how it felt so out of place without her in it.

I wonder if Prim has anyone to walk her home, but I'm sure she does. I'm sure Katniss figured all of that out if she wasn't going to be in school and she'd never allow Prim to be alone.

Delly sits in the passenger seat as Jakob drives us to his house and the two of them make small talk back and forth easily. I'm almost annoyed by it, by how easily the flow between the two of them seems to be and how forced or non–existent it is for me and my brother. By the time he parks the car in our driveway he's already making his way inside, not looking to spend another minute talking to us. Delly and I make our way to the living room and turn on the television. I'm ready for her to change it to see the Price is Right being on, but she leaves the channel put. A movie is on, and I recognize it as one of the many movies we've watched and loved growing up, not–ashamedly so as well.

"Sixteen Candles over Bob Barker?" I question Delly. She smirks and nods and we watch. I fidget a bit throughout the movie, sometimes the theme of someone in high school being hopeless over a person that doesn't know who they are hitting too close to home. Sam Baker lays on her couch and tells her father as she fights tears, "I like him a real lot and he doesn't like me, okay?" and I sigh.

Delly looks over at me but I don't look at her. I don't want to. "You ever feel like you relate a whole lot to one character in a film?" I ask conversationally.

I can feel her still looking at me. "Peeta, are you comparing yourself to Molly Ringwald's character?"

"I didn't say that! I'm just trying to make conversation."

I finally look over at her and she shakes her head. "Oh Peeta. You're such a hopeless romantic." I roll my eyes and shake my head back at her. Whatever. My mind goes back to the party and I smile. "Besides, in this movie, the person Molly Ringwald's character pines over goes after her back." We watch the movie a bit more in silence until she finally asks. "So how was the party?"

I'm silent for a bit. "Good."

"Good?"

I let forth a smirk. "Great."

"Great?"

"Wonderful."

"Peeta!" Delly finally exclaims.

I look over at her innocently. "What?" She gives me a look and I get it. Details, she wants details. So I give her them, and try to make up for not telling her about the party, not asking if she wanted to come, for all of that. I give all the details, even about how I sulked and drank more than I usually do. Even about how I woke up in the night to a nightmare and Katniss had one as well. I skirt around the details of the nightmares, but I do tell her about how I woke up and our arms were around each other. I neglect to tell her of my morning wood though, knowing that'd be too far for me to indulge in.

"So you are Molly Ringwald's character –– she's totally into you too Peeta!"

"Delly, shh!" I hate when she gets so excited that she shouts her words, especially because it usually has to do with me and my feelings over this one damn girl. "Look, I don't know what it is, if it's anything but...it was a good party. Better than I expected it could be."

"How did she act around you today?" Delly asks, but I shake my head.

"She wasn't in today. I don't know why."

She still is smiling though. "Well whatever. We'll see how she reacts whenever she gets back, and then you can make her another birthday cake so the two of you can sit on her kitchen table and kiss as you lean over it." The exact scene plays in front of us and for a moment I can almost visualize that happening yesterday instead of just all of us drunkenly singing a happy birthday to her. I try to get rid of the thought.

"Alright, alright, I'm not ever again telling you when I relate to a movie's plot."

Delly shrugs and the credits start to roll. "Not my fault it seems like John Hughes wrote your entire soul." She takes the remote in her hands and changes the channel. I don't suppress the mocking surprise as the two of us fall into guessing the prices of different items and she relays some details about her weekend to me as well.

It's late when I'm finally in bed for sleep. Delly stayed for dinner and left shortly after, walking home since she only lives down the street. I did some more closing prep for the bakery, having to work tomorrow morning and afterschool. I got my homework done and it was simple enough. My entire family already turned in for the night. I'm a bit restless though as I try to get myself to sleep and I can't seem to turn my brain off. I again in the silent night think where Katniss was, and I hope that she's okay. I turn over and can't sleep. I think about the work that I have to do tomorrow, and if there are any pop quizzes I can guess are coming. I turn over and can't fall asleep.

I sigh and my hand sneaks under my boxers. I'm not even hard but I know this is a sure–fire way to calm me down and help me get to sleep until my alarm goes off. I wrap my hand around my cock and start to pump it and instantly find myself growing harder as I quickly recall the feeling of her warm body against mine. What would it be like in another universe, if we woke up like that and didn't roll away from each other but grabbed at each other even more? In my thoughts I feel her grab for me, work me off in the way I'm working myself off right now, and I clench my jaw to keep quiet in the quiet house.

But it's not exactly quiet. I falter as I hear something, but try to quickly disregard it. I hear it again, and it's definitely at the window. I look out it. I live on the second floor and there's a tree whose branches scrape against it. I figure it's the wind. I'm about to start working myself off again when the sound comes again. "Shit," I mutter and quickly sit up and tuck myself back into my boxers. I take my shirt off that I was going to sleep in and quickly wipe my hands off as I go over to my window and look out. There's no wind at all and I look out at the tree for a bit. What could it have been? I'm sure now I won't sleep at all.

I'm about to turn around when the sound comes again, as well as some movement out of the corner of my eye. It looked like something was thrown at my window, and I quickly look down to see a figure that's standing and semi–trying to hide in my yard. I open my window, confused, and the cold air hits me as well as recognition.

"Katniss?" I call out in a whisper in the middle of the night.

She's in jeans and a tshirt, shivering and looking like she hasn't slept. She stares in silence at me and I realize I'm shirtless. "Hey," she says finally and curls her hand in a wave.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you I'd see you tomorrow," She said. I'm confused, but then think back to the car ride home when we awkwardly moved around each other and she took the front seat. I thought she meant at school though. My mind spins and I don't know what's going on.

She shivers again and I pull myself back together. "Hold on," I tell her and close the window. I quickly wash my hands and face in my bathroom as well as putting on a long waffleshirt and sweatpants and grabbing a sweatshirt. I try and adjust myself so my now half–hard cock doesn't show. I walk through my house as quietly as I can. I'm not lightfooted, but Jakob at least gave me brotherly advice of sneaking out, the number one point being to skip the third stair at the top because it creaks loud. I take a deep breath when I get to the front door and then open it and make my way towards Katniss who's standing nearby the trunk of the tree near my room. I give her my sweatshirt and she puts it on right away and then mutters a "thanks" as she hugs herself in it. She's swimming in the thing and I nearly die when I see her bring her face into the collar and I have to imagine the moment where she pauses for a moment to just inhale the scent.

"So..." I start off, hoping she'll talk. I have no idea what she's doing here. Not that I mind, at all. But I am confused. She doesn't seem to want to talk so I try and prompt her again. "Where were you in school today?"

She shrugs and doesn't look at me. "It's been a long day."

She seems tired and preoccupied in her mind. I don't understand why she's here, and I feel like it's a puzzle I'm not ever going to be able to piece together. "How did you get here?" I try with a different question.

"I walked here."

"Why?"

She looks up at me and there doesn't seem to be a hesitation in her eyes, unlike the hesitation with everything else about her. I'm startled by it because I've never seen it before on her, never truly knew she could ever look with this feeling, especially directed at me. "I needed to do this," She tells me.

I'm about to ask what but she traps me against the tree in my yard, her mouth on my own.