I hardly ever used the portable sat phone I'd been given as one of the perks of being the Mockingjay, but as I sat on the train I couldn't resist the temptation to call Peeta. I needed to hear his reassuring voice with his never faltering optimism. Fortunately, I managed to catch him on his house line before he left for the bakery.

"Haymitch, if you tell me that another one of those damn geese of yours-"

"Not Haymitch," I interrupted, a smile already growing on my lips. Just picturing him standing there by the phone, shoulders tensed in impatience lightened my own mood.

"Katniss." I could hear his own smile in his voice. "Wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon."

I admitted, "Wasn't expecting to call so soon."

"Everything alright?"

No. Everything was far from alright. Everything was wrong, horribly wrong. I felt even more conflicted about Gale than before. But I didn't want to tell him that. It would only serve to make him feel guilty for suggesting the trip, and he didn't need that on his shoulders.

"Just wanted to hear your voice. It was weird, sleeping alone last night." Glancing out the window, I watched as green and brown foliage passed by in a blur of shapes and colors.

If he sensed my shifting in the topic, he didn't comment. "Nightmares?" He had to be running behind schedule, yet there was no hurry in his words. I had his full attention. More tension eased from my shoulders as I settled into conversation. If I closed my eyes, I could almost picture him sitting next to me.

Sinking back into the seat, I tilted my head up towards the roof. I remembered the last time we'd been on the train together. Where that had led. "They weren't pleasant dreams," I said.

"How long are you planning on staying?" There was a weight to his question, as if it carried several more unspoken ones with it.

"Peeta?"

"Yeah?"

I closed my eyes as I whispered, "Ask me."

A pause followed on the other end of the line. "Ask you what?"

It's hard to explain why it mattered so much to me in that moment. I didn't want for him to feel jealous. I didn't think there was anything to be jealous about, not anymore. Maybe never. Gale had kissed me, true, and I had in a way returned the kiss, but it hadn't meant anything. At least not to me. So why did I need so desperately to hear him say it? "Peeta, just say it."

He sighed, but it wasn't in frustration. It sounded almost as if it was in defeat. Then he finally said the words I needed to hear. "Katniss, come home."

"Okay," I whispered back before hanging up.

As soon as I reached town, I headed to his house. The train had been delayed with an issue during refueling, and I had been bouncing off the walls of the car waiting to arrive. By the time I walked up his front steps, I was exhausted from the previous day and from the long day of nothing but sitting on the train.

The fact that the doorbell went unanswered only fueled my foul mood. A quick peak at the window showed no one was home. The lights had been off in my house as well, so I could only assume he was still at the bakery.

The rain started to fall as I trudged back through town towards the bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread as I reached the outskirts of town told me my last assumption had been correct and that he was still hard at work. Impatience sizzled inside me as I hurried my pace, trying to beat the harder rain that was sure to follow.

I practically bursted through the front doors. He looked up, startled from the noise. He held a white washing cloth in his hand as he cleaned down the counter, part of his evening procedure as he prepared to close up shop. Catching sight of me, his arm stilled and the cleaning paused.

"Hi," he said softly, as if he wasn't entirely sure I was actually there. "If you want to grab a seat, I'll get you some tea while I finish closing up."

Ignoring the fact that I was dripping water and dragging mud across the floor, I moved straight to him. As soon as he was within arm's reach, I pulled him to me in a desperate hug. As if holding him would help root me to the ground and to reality.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, pulling me in closer despite my damp clothes and hair.

It was too much, too raw to talk about. Shaking my head, I turned my forehead into his neck, my cold nose pressed firmly into his warm skin.

All too soon, he pulled away. His eyes searched mine as he studied my face. "Are you okay?" he asked, though it was clear I was anything but.

I knew it was wrong. It was hypocritical of me, and unfair to him, but I couldn't stop myself. My lips found his in an instant, just as Gale's had done to mine that morning. My kiss was just as desperate as his, if not more so. I wasn't sure what I needed to prove and who I was trying to prove it to. Maybe I was just seeking comfort from Peeta, who was the only one who could give it to me anymore. I knew no matter the cause, it was enough material to keep the doctor going for our entire next session. But in the moment, it didn't matter.

I drew him into me, and I kissed him deeply, the way we'd kissed on the train. I wished then that I had just ignored his suggestion of visiting Gale. I wished I'd rode the rest of the way home with him yesterday instead of hopping off in Two.

Peeta pulled away far too quickly. His worry was plastered over his face. "What happened?" he asked, his voice tight and slightly demanding.

"Please don't ask. I don't want to talk about it. Not right now."

"Are you okay?" His hands slid to my elbows, and he held them gently as he continued to study me.

I was the one who was supposed to be watching over him, not the other way around. I was the one who needed to hold myself together, so that he could fall apart. One of us needed to be the strong one, and it wasn't fair for me to ask that of him so soon after everything that had happened.

I hated Gale for doing this to me. I hated myself for falling apart as I had. I had known going there wasn't going to be easy. I hadn't been naive enough to think that we were going to miraculously mend our broken relationship just by seeing each other. So why did I feel like I could hardly breathe? Why did I so desperately want to seek comfort in Peeta's arms?

"I'm not sure," I told him honestly. Then, feeling weaker with every second that passed, I pulled him to me in another hug. The smell of flour and butter and cinnamon that clung to him soothed me as much as his strong arms as they wrapped around my back. He didn't pull away or ask any more questions. Instead, he held me just as tight as I clung to him. He didn't say a word until I was ready to pull away and face what came next. Because no matter how much I wanted time to stop so I could collect my thoughts, life just kept on going. Tick tock, it was the eternal clock.