KPOV

Peeta's father would always trade generously for squirrels, and he must have taught Peeta how to cook them because his entire house smells delicious by the time I arrive back at his house with Mom and Prim in tow. There's a pot of stew simmering on the stove and rolls in the oven baking, and he's working on some sort of cake for dessert. Prim immediately asks if she can help him and he graciously agrees.

After dinner Peeta decides to teach Prim how to play chess, a game that his grandfather had taught him when he was little. My mother pulls out her knitting, and I sit on the couch watching everyone, thankful for nothing to do and nowhere to be for a while. It's really nice to see how easily Peeta fits in with my family. Mother just seems to accept him like he's always been here, and Prim can't get enough of him.

I think back to earlier today and that kiss we shared and I feel the warmth building in my chest. It makes me drowsy so I close my eyes and lay back a little on the couch.

The next thing I know I'm being shaken awake by my mom. "We should get home now, Katniss, it's getting late."

I frown. "I was going to help with the dishes," I mumble, trying to get up on my feet. I don't remember the last time that I slept more than a few minutes without a nightmare.

"We've already done all the dishes," Prim says. "Peeta and I did, and we brought some food over to Haymitch's house too." Prim wrinkles her nose at the mention of Haymitch's house. "You were sleeping for almost two hours!"

I nod, still trying to get my bearings. "We'll head on home and let you two say goodnight," Mom says, patting Peeta on the arm. "Thank you again for the lovely dinner, Peeta."

Peeta beams proudly. "You're welcome," he says. "I'd love to do it more often." Mom nods and gestures for Prim to follow her.

Once they are out the door, Peeta wraps me in his arms. "I really wish you didn't have to leave," he says, his voice rough. "You looked so peaceful sleeping there on my couch, I wish your mom hadn't had to wake you!"

"That was the best sleep I've had since we've been home," I say, holding him tight with my arms around his neck. "I don't want to leave either."

We stand there holding each other for a couple of minutes before Peeta kisses my head. "You'd better go," he whispers. "I'd like to stay in your mother's good graces."

That's my Peeta, always trying to get me to smile. He walks me to his front porch and kisses me sweetly good night, then watches me as I walk across the street to my house, like he's making sure I make it there safely. I wave to him one more time before our respective doors close behind us.

As I walk slowly up the stairs to my bedroom though, the electric feeling coursing through my body that I've come to associate with Peeta is replaced with a feeling of dread. That nap I had at Peeta's house really was the best sleep I've had since we've been home, and I know there's no way of replicating it without him here. He hadn't even been holding me while I was napping; just being in his house, near him, seemed to be enough to keep the nightmares away for a while.

Every night the nightmares get worse and worse. I dream about mutts and dead children with spears sticking out of their bodies. I dream about Mrs. Mellark and her rolling pin, beating Peeta senseless while laughing. I dream of my father, rising up from the mine explosion, his clothes still burning and his hair singed. "How could you kill those children?" he asks me, looking at me with such disappointment. "They were just pieces in the Capitol's game."

Mother and Prim try everything they can think of to help me. They try staying up late with me until I'm so exhausted that they have to practically drag me up to bed. They try waking me as soon as the nightmares start. Prim even spends a couple of nights sleeping in my bed with me, thinking that it will help like it used to before the Games. But she's not the one I need in the bed with me, and it doesn't help anyway.

Peeta doesn't seem to be faring any better. The dark circles under his eyes are huge, he's not eating enough, and since he's hardly sleeping at night he's been baking enough bread to feed the entire district.

One morning I convince him to come with me to the Hob, thinking that he can "sell" his extra bread to Greasy Sae and she can serve it with her soup. He clings to my hand tightly as we walk to the Hob, the horror stories about the infamous District 12 black market no doubt swirling through his head. He relaxes though when we reach Greasy Sae's stall and she greets us both with her signature toothless grin.

"You're even handsomer in person than on the tv," she says to Peeta, eyeing him up and down. "Thank you for bringing our Katniss back to us."

"You're very welcome, ma'am," Peeta replies kindly, sliding his arm around my waist.

Sae's eyes widen at being called ma'am. "You can call me Sae, young man," she says, winking at him. "Polite and handsome, that's a good one there Katniss." I laugh as Peeta blushes.

After delivering the bread and partaking in some of Greasy Sae's soup of the day, I take Peeta around and introduce him to the various vendors. He shakes hands with each of them, looking them in the eye and addressing them kindly. Many of them are so taken aback by his behavior that they can barely stammer back responses. I can understand why. I can't remember ever seeing too many Merchants in the Hob, and certainly not any that are as kind as Peeta.

We're just circling back around to leave when I catch sight of Gale. I guess today must be Sunday. The lack of sleep has made me lose track of the days. He's sitting at Sae's stall eating a bowl of soup and looking at Peeta and I with an unreadable expression. Jealousy? Anger? Betrayal? I can sense all three of those in his gaze as we pass him. I'm ready to just keep walking when Peeta stops right in front of him.

"Gale, it's nice to see you," he says. Gale blinks, definitely not expecting this from Peeta. I stare at Peeta, then glance at Gale, thinking the same thing. Gale swallows and stares for a couple more seconds before replying.

"Out for a walk today?" he says, not keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. "Seeing how the other half lives?" I narrow my eyes and can feel my scowl forming.

Peeta however is nonplussed. "Katniss was introducing me to her friends here," he says.

Gale grunts in response, his eyes shooting daggers at us. We stand there just staring at each other until Peeta tugs on my hand. "C'mon Katniss, let's go," he says. "Have a nice day," he says to Gale as we pass him.

"Don't mind all of the coal dust," Gale calls out behind us. "It tends to stick to your clothes for a while."

That's it. I rip my hand from Peeta's and stomp my way back to where Gale is sitting, poking him hard in the chest. "Don't you dare talk to me about coal dust!" I say through clenched teeth. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, like I didn't grow up exactly like you did, like my father wasn't killed and I haven't ever known hardship! And don't you dare glare at Peeta like he's always had it so much better than us! You don't know a thing about him!"

"He's a Merchant, Katniss!" Gale hisses right back at me. "Of course he always had it much better than us! He's not like us! And you were supposed to come back to me, not with him!" His eyes widen as those words come out of his mouth, like he hadn't meant to say them. Too late.

I take a deep breath, feeling Peeta gently take my hand again. "I'm sorry that things aren't the way that you hoped," I say to Gale, begging my words to reach him. I've never been good at saying the right something. "But that doesn't mean that we can't still be friends, that we can all be friends." I tug Peeta closer to me. "Peeta's not going anywhere, so you may as well try to get used to him."

Gale stands up and looks between Peeta and I a couple times, trying I think to use his height to intimidate us. "I just don't think I can do that, Catnip," he says. "I'll see you around." Then he returns his bowl to Sae and walks out of the Hob.

Peeta and I watch him go, and I feel Peeta slide his arm around my waist. "He'll come around eventually, Katniss," he says. "If he's as good a friend as he thinks he is, he'll come around."

"He doesn't see things that way," I say, sighing. "He sees it as you took me away from him. He can't see that I'm happy with you because he can't get past his own prejudices."

Peeta just nods. "I'm sure Rye being my brother doesn't help, I know him and Gale never got along well in school," he says, leading me down the path towards the Square.

"Speaking of Rye, we still need to get him and Madge over for dinner soon," I say, not so subtly changing the subject.

Peeta laughs. "That sounds fun. Let's go see if he's at the bakery today," he says.

I hesitate, not really in the mood for a confrontation with his mother right after our confrontation with Gale. Peeta senses my hesitation and squeezes me close. "We'll walk around to the back door," he says, reading my mind. "Usually Dad's the only one who answers the back door."

I smile gratefully and we walk around to the back of the bakery. When we get there Peeta and I both stop short when we see Madge and Rye standing by the back door, deep in conversation. Peeta and I both watch as Madge puts her hand on Rye's arm, laughing at something he says. Rye finally sees us coming and waves, his hand moving to wrap around Madge's waist.

"Hey Katniss, hey Peet!" he calls over. "Nice day today, don't you think?" Madge is smiling and blushing.

"Hey," Peeta answers back. He looks between Madge and Rye quickly. "What's this?" he asks, his eyes twinkling.

Rye grins sheepishly. "Well, I was going to wait for your dinner invitation," he says," smiling down at Madge and hugging her to him. "But then this lovely lady walked into the bakery when I was working a few days ago and asked for a cookie, and well, I was feeling brave that day for some reason, so I said I'd only sell her a cookie if she would agree to go out with me, and well, for some reason she agreed."

"Oh, I'm so happy for you both!" I exclaim, surprising all four of us with my enthusiasm. "This is wonderful!"

"I agree," Madge says, leaning in closer to Rye. "We'd still love to have dinner with the two of you guys sometime though," she adds. "We're not exactly broadcasting too loud that we're together yet..." and she glances up at the top floor of the bakery.

I nod, understanding her completely. "We will set it up for next week, I promise," I say. "Now that all of our Victor events are done for a while, Peeta and I have more time for things like that."

There's a pound on the door. "That's the signal I asked for; I gotta get back to work," Rye says, looking glum. "Dad said he would give me a 2 minute heads up before Mom was due back from an errand."

"We should go too then," Peeta says quickly, knowing that I don't want to be anywhere near here when his mother returns. "You be nice to her, Rye," he says to his brother. "She's a good one."

Rye smiles and hugs Madge close again. "I know, little brother, I know!"

Peeta and I say goodbye and turn to leave, allowing Madge and Rye to say their own goodbyes in private. I can't seem to stop smiling. Madge and Rye are something else wonderful that came out of our going into the Hunger Games.

As Peeta and I start walking back towards Victor's Village, I notice that he's limping a little. I often catch him rubbing the area on his leg where his flesh meets the prosthetic.

"Is your leg bothering you?" I ask him.

He winces. "Yeah, a little," he admits. "Since I don't sleep that much at night I'm on my feet a lot more than I probably should be."

I instantly feel guilty, and Peeta notices right away. "Oh no Katniss, you know this isn't your fault," he says, trying to soothe me. "I just need to sit down for a bit when we get back, that's all."

"All right, but I'm going to rub it for you when we get back, and you're going to rest without the prosthetic on for a while," I say firmly.

"Okay, okay," Peeta says, shaking his head and grinning.

We get back to my house and I push him onto the couch right away. Mother and Prim are out again, seeing more patients or shopping most likely.

"Take off your prosthetic," I say, leaving no room for argument. Peeta hesitates. I kneel down and start untying his shoes, which I notice are double-knotted. "Please take it off," I repeat, my voice softer this time. I give him a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I'm going to go mix something to rub on your leg, I'll be right back." Peeta nods and starts to work on releasing his prosthetic.

I'm nowhere near as talented as my mother at mixing concoctions, but I at least know which herbs to use. I put together a crude mixture of lavender, rosemary, and chamomile suspended in some oil and shake it slightly before returning to Peeta. He's removed his prosthetic and is massaging the stump through his pant leg. I kneel down again and move his hands away.

"Let me," I say, looking up at him.

He swallows thickly and takes a deep breath. "Okay," he whispers, looking like he's trying hard to keep his composure.

I gently roll his pant leg up until his stump is revealed. This is the first time that I've seen it, and it's not as horrible as I imagined. I plant a kiss on the puckered flesh on the end before I pour some of my mixture into my hands and start massaging upwards. "The herbs and massage will help with pain and swelling," I say. "I should probably start doing this every day for you."

Peeta lets out a shaky breath. "That sound good," he says, his voice shaking as well. "It feels much better already."

After I've massaged the entire mixture into his leg I head for the kitchen to wash my hands. When I return I see Peeta putting his prosthetic back on. "No," I say, stopping his hands. "Leave it off for a while so the herbs can soak in and the skin can breathe a bit."

He smiles slightly, his shoulders drooping. "Okay," he says, "but only if you come and lay down with me for a while. I'm so tired Katniss." He moves to lay down on the couch and holds his arms open for me.

Not hesitating for one second I crawl into his arms and rest my head on his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. No one else's arms have ever made me feel this safe. I close my eyes and exhale loudly, feeling him kiss my forehead and whisper something before we both fall peacefully asleep.

It's a couple hours later when my mother gently wakes us, dinner already cooking on the stove. Peeta and I stretch in unison, grateful for the nap but knowing it's still not enough sleep to make up for all of the sleepless nights we've had already.

After dinner, I get Mom to compound a salve for Peeta that I apply on his leg and let soak in while he's playing chess with Prim. The salve seems to help with the pain in his leg and his skin looks less red and inflamed, but what he really needs is about a straight week of sleep and sleep is the one thing that neither of us can seem to find alone.

Once the dishes are done and the games put away, and Mom and Prim head upstairs for the night, I take Peeta's face into my hands and kiss him, trying to mimic our mouth movements from the other day. His hands run up and down my back as we kiss, our tongues dancing together. I had heard about this kind of kissing when I was in school, and I remember thinking that it sounded gross, but it's anything but gross to me now. When we pull apart to catch our breath he's breathing heavily, his face flushed and his eyes dark, the same things I can feel mirrored in my own face.

"Goodnight Katniss," he whispers. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I walk him to my door and he kisses me gently on the lips one more time.

"Goodnight," I whisper finally as the door closes behind him.