Peeta

His body froze. His tired mind scrambled to comprehend what was happening. The persistent throbbing behind his eyes still drummed its unsteady rhythm. He listened to the crunch of the glass beneath her boots as she leaned into him. Her warms lips pressed against his. Her other hand coming up to frame his face. His stunned reaction dissolved as he melted into the kiss. The broom and dustpan fell to the floor. His hands grasped her waist bringing her up to a standing position and pulling her tightly against him. The kiss was sweet, just a pressing of lips, and over far too soon. Even though it lacked the passion and intensity of their previous kisses, his heart still assaulted his ribcage. The meaning behind the kiss was clear. Katniss was done being just friends.

She was the first to let go. Her fingers trailed down his face and chest as she crouched down picking up the broom and dustpan, quickly cleaned up all of the broken glass. He nervously pulled at his fingers debating on what exactly to say to her now. He was usually so good with words, but the constant lack of sleep had caused his thoughts to muddle and the words were harder to find. Katniss deposited the glass shards in the trash bin and then silently grasped his uninjured hand leading him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. He sucked in a shaky breath. He didn't know where this was going and wasn't sure if he was ready for whatever she had in mind. She wordlessly pulled him through the bedroom towards the bathroom and gently pushed him down into a seated position at the edge of the large clawfoot bathtub. She walked to the linen closet and pulled out several washcloths and a large towel.

The sound of rushing water filled the room as Katniss turned the tub knobs and adjusted the water to a perfect temperature. Her hands found the hem of his shirt. Her fingers floated over the exposed skin leaving a trail of goosebumps that caused him to shiver. She guided the shirt over his head. He was suddenly thankful for the tiled room and the cacophony of water sounds echoing throughout. He was sure that without it, Katniss would be able to hear the loud, erratic beats of his heart. She grasped his hand again and pulled him to a standing position. It was in this position that he finally got a good look at himself in the bathroom mirror. His arms were covered in smudges of paint and there were streaks of color on his cheeks and in his hair. His eyes were still rimmed red from the tears that he had shed while he was painting. That redness only helped to accentuate the darkness under his eyes that conveyed just how truly exhausted he was.

Katniss's hands on the button of his pants caused him to jump, his eyes wide as she undid the button and pulled the zipper down. She maneuvered the pants off of his hips. The heavy canvas material fell to the ground. He stepped out of them and was left standing before her in nothing more than his boxers. Confusion and apprehension kept him from having an obvious erection. They locked eyes. She gently grabbed his elbow and motioned for him to get into the tub. He obeyed, stepping into the tub and lowering himself into the water – boxers and all – careful to keep his injured hand dry. The warm water felt amazing and had this been any other situation he would have gladly relaxed into it, but he kept his knees awkwardly drawn up towards his chest as he watched Katniss turn off the water and gather up his dirty clothes.

She appeared next to the tub again, sinking down to her knees on the floor. Her hand applied a light pressure to his forehead pushing his head back. He closed his eyes. The warm water trickled over his hair, over his shoulders and down his back. Slender fingers scraped softly across his scalp. The smell of shampoo hung in the air. The pressure of a hand on his forehead again. More warm water traversing from the top of him into the tub. Soapy bubbled caressed his calves.

"You know," Katniss quietly said while using a washcloth to wipe the paint from his arm, "it just occurred to me that you spend every day taking care of people. You cook for strangers. You make Jo laugh when you can tell she's feeling down. You make sure that Haymitch gets something to eat when he's been too busy to realize he's hungry or if he's drank too much." She moved the washcloth to his back. "You made sure I had a place to live without hesitation. You never questioned keeping the baby. You jumped in with both feet even though I know you must be as petrified as I am. You take care of all of us, but who takes care of you?"

She gingerly wiped the remaining paint from his face before wringing out the washcloth and laying it over the side of the tub. Her hand came back to his face, smoothing over his eyebrows. Her fingers glided down his cheek.

"I want to take care of you, Peeta. Will you let me?"

He nodded unable to speak for fear the words would catch in his throat. He swallowed thickly. Tears pricked his eyes. No one had ever asked this of him before. What he did for others was done without forethought. He liked to be of help and to be able to make people feel good. He had never considered what it would be like for someone to want to take care of him. Before he could stop them, hot tears fell from his eyes. He turned his head away in shame. The voice of his mother fighting its way to the surface of his mind.

"Hey," Katniss said turning his face towards hers. "Let's get some sleep."

She stood and held the towel out to him. He lifted himself out of the water and took the towel from her then remembered that he was standing in soaking wet boxers. She seemed to realize the same thing and held up a finger before running out of the room. She reappeared a few moments later with a pair of clean underwear in her hand. She laid them on the bathroom counter and then exited the room giving him a shy smile as she closed the door. He stepped out of the tub, pulled up the plug and let the water flow down the drain. He quickly stripped the water-logged boxers from his body and ran the towel over himself before pulling the dry shorts on. Stepping out of the bathroom he found Katniss in her bed, the quilt pulled up to her chin. She smiled at him and patted the empty space beside her. He slid under the soft, warm blanket. It smelled of her. He could drown in that scent if she'd let him. Katniss found her way to his chest and laid her head over his beating heart. He wondered if she knew that it belonged to her. It had belonged to her all along. He ran his fingers through the ends of her hair and welcomed sleep as his eyes drifted closed.

Contentment. That was the only way to describe how he felt when his eyes fluttered open to find himself still in Katniss's room with the late afternoon sun shining through the window. He was alone. He buried his face in the sheets as he rolled on his stomach and stretched his limbs. Amazingly, he felt rested. The throbbing behind his eyes was gone. He still needed more sleep, but he would be able to make it through the rest of the day without requiring copious amounts of caffeine. Sitting up in the bed he spied a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt folded neatly on a chair in the corner of the room. He smiled at the sweet gesture and got out of the bed to get dressed. Padding down the stairs, he found Katniss perched on a stool at the kitchen island. She stared intently at her phone with earbuds in both ears. Her toes tapped rhythmically on the leg of the stool and her head swayed gently back and forth. She suddenly became aware of his presence and blushed while pulling the buds from her ears.

"Hey," she said with a timid smile, her hand brushing a stray hair behind her ear.

"Hi," he replied. He suddenly felt embarrassed and unsure of what to do. He knew what he wanted to do. His entire body – especially the area located in his pelvis – was screaming at him about what to do. His gaze drifted from Katniss to the digital clock on the microwave. "Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Katniss asked following the direction of his gaze.

"I told Finn I would bake some pies and make a couple of side dishes for tomorrow. I didn't realize I slept so long. I wanted to get to work on everything much earlier today."

"I'm…I'm sorry," Katniss stammered. "I didn't realize you had plans for tomorrow or I would've woken you up. I know you needed the sleep and you looked so peaceful."

"No, please don't apologize. I did need it. What you did for me was amazing." He flashed her a genuine smile. He hadn't felt this weeks. "I just promised a friend I would make some stuff for Thanksgiving tomorrow. I've been celebrating the holiday with him and his family for the past couple of years. With everything going on I didn't even think to ask you what your plans were. Is Prim coming home?"

"Oh, uh…no. She stays at school until winter break. It's just a lot easier and cheaper to fly her home once rather than flying her back and forth. I usually just eat take-out and watch a movie."

"You don't celebrate with Haymitch?"

"Ha, no. As fond as Haymitch is of the holidays, he prefers to be alone. I asked him once a couple years ago and he damn near bit my head off. I think he lost someone close during this time of year. I'm not entirely sure though. He doesn't talk about it."

"You should come with me," he said, suddenly giddy at the prospect in light of the recent developments in their relationship.

"Peeta…no. I couldn't. I don't even know your friends and I wouldn't want to impose."

"Trust me, they will be thrilled. They have been bugging me to meet you for weeks now. It's just a small dinner. They have no family that lives close, so it's just been the four of us for the last couple years."

"They've been wanting to meet me?" Katniss asked skeptically.

"You have no idea. Every time I talk to Finnick all I hear about is how much Annie wants to meet you and how excited they are about the baby."

"Wait. Finnick? As in, Finnick Odair?"

Peeta nodded finally moving from the doorway to start gathering cooking and baking supplies.

"Finnick Odair, the movie star?" She asked, her mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief. She had heard people talking in the restaurant a couple of years ago about how he had moved into the area but had thought nothing of it at the time.

"Yeah," Peeta chuckled. "Although, if he sees that look on your face he will be incorrigible all night."

Katniss swiftly closed her mouth, a scowl covering the shocked look on her face. "I'm just surprised. How do you know Finnick?"

Peeta quickly relayed the details of his working for and ultimately becoming friends with Finnick and how he and his family lived in the vicinity. Peeta told her about Annie and Finnick's son Jacob.

"They've been there for me for almost seven years. They know all the good, bad and ugly. They are like my family," Peeta said as he preheated the oven and continued to pull ingredients out. "What do you think?"

He could see the trepidation etched on her face. He knew that Katniss wasn't known for being a social butterfly by any standard and throwing her into an expensive house full of strangers would be daunting, but to his surprise and genuine delight, she agreed.

She snagged her bottom lip with her teeth as she stared pensively out of the kitchen window. A smile bloomed on his face and desire pooled in his belly. In his mind he saw a scenario playing out in which he kissed her deeply pulling that lip into his mouth, lifting her onto the island countertop and making her moan his name. With a frustrated shake of his head, he cleared the image from his mind and set to work on the dishes he had promised the Odair family.

Katniss

She and Peeta spent the rest of the day preparing the dishes for Thanksgiving with the Odairs. She still couldn't believe that she was going to meet Finnick Odair. Prim would lose her shit if she knew. Maybe she would be able to get Finnick to take a picture with her so she could text it to Prim later. As long as she didn't freeze up or act like an ass. She had never been great or very comfortable in front of strangers. She reminded herself that Peeta would be there too so she wouldn't be alone and he had called them his family which made her want to meet them even more.

Peeta apologized to her several times for making her work on her day off. She told him it wasn't a problem. She meant that. Watching Peeta cook was one of her guilty pleasures. She loved seeing the way the tendons in his arms flexed as he kneaded dough or the look of pure concentration on his face as he worked through a recipe. She especially loved to watch the occasional errant bead of sweat that would work its way down from his damp hairline and disappear into his shirt to traverse the taut muscles of his back as he labored over various pots and pans simmering on the stovetop.

She helped him prep and cook an orange and cranberry chutney as well as the filling for three different pies, one savory and two sweet. While everything cooked he had set about making pie dough and bread dough for cheese buns. He told her with a wink that the cheese buns were Finnick and Annie's son Jacob's favorite and that he would be officially banned from the house if he didn't show up with at least a dozen. He made two dozen just to be safe.

At one point, as he arduously kneaded and worked the dough, he caught her staring and playfully teased her by saying, "you're staring Miss Everdeen. Be careful or you might make me blush." Which of course caused her own face to glow scarlet, or as scarlet as her olive complexion would allow. She buried her face in her hands with a laugh, but as the laugh died down and the blush faded an old forgotten memory worked its way to the forefront of her mind.

"I visited your family's bakery once. Did you know that?" She asked, her elbows propped on the countertop and her face still in her hands.

He shook his head.

"Haymitch took me there shortly after my parents died. I had stopped eating and I think he thought he could entice me to eat something sweet."

Peeta listened thoughtfully, his hands still working the dough.

"The thing was, at least at that time, Haymitch didn't have much money," she continued. "I'm sure it was hard being saddled with the financial responsibility of two young girls too, but he still took me with the hope that we would be able to get something that wasn't too expensive that I would actually want to eat. One of your brothers, the middle one I think, was working the register at the time and I remember that along with the delicious smell of baked goods there was also a smell like something had been burnt."

Peeta's movements with the dough stuttered and then stopped completely. He removed them from the dough. His eyes met hers and then flitted away to focus on his hands still covered in flour and bits of dough.

"Haymitch wandered through the storefront while I sat at one of the small tables by the window. He kept asking me if I wanted this thing or that thing, but I couldn't choose anything. I felt guilty that Haymitch was spending money he didn't really have on me. I felt like I would owe him without a way to repay him the debt. Then, I noticed a pan near the back wall. I asked your brother about it and he told us that his little brother had burned the two loaves. Granted at this time we could hear a commotion coming from the kitchen in the back. I don't think anyone but your brother knew we had come into the store."

"No," Peeta said in a hushed voice.

"I asked how much it would cost for the burnt loaves and your brother said we could have them. He was supposed to throw them out anyway. So, he quickly bagged them up because the noise in the kitchen was getting louder and we could hear the sound of yelling and thrashing. Then there was a loud crash, someone cried out and then silence. Haymitch took the loaves and rushed me out of the store. I was too scared to go back in there again, but I ate the bread. Even burnt it was delicious. Seeing me eat made Prim smile. I still remember that smile and the hope that it brought."

Peeta put the dough he had been working into a bowl and covered it with a towel then turned his back to her and began washing his hands.

"My mother had always wanted a baby girl," he said softly. Katniss saw his shoulders slump slightly like an enormous weight had fallen on them. "She was excited when Proja was born, even though he wasn't the girl she had dreamed of and when he turned three, my mother and father decided to try again. Rye was born a year later. My mother would often say that Rye was an utter disappointment to her in every way starting with the fact that he had been born a boy. Then, less than two years after Rye's birth, I was born. My mother has always said that I was the mistake. The birth that was never supposed to happen. I was weak and pathetic and everything she never wanted."

"Oh, Peeta," Katniss breathed. Her body shook with anger and sadness. She wanted nothing more than to claw that vile woman's eyes out.

Peeta turned around to face her. His face blank but his eyes spoke volumes. "It wasn't always bad. She took care of me at first and she might have even loved me a little then. Something changed when I was five. I'm still not sure what it was that made her dislike me so much, but that was the first time she hit me. The day you took the bread I had burned the loaves on accident. They were dark, dense loaves and I hadn't been watching them properly. My mother wasn't typically in the bakery at that time of day. My father was out doing a delivery, so she was there and had seen it happen. She had been rolling out dough and she had one of the large rolling pins in her hands and she…well, you heard the noise."

He shrugged and looked away taking a deep, ragged breath. Katniss saw his fingers distractedly brush over his left forearm. He took another deep breath and pushed off of the counter heading back to his work.

"Did she hit you? With the rolling pin?" Katniss asked hesitantly. She hadn't meant to say it, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Yes," he whispered in reply. "She broke my arm in two places. Let's…can we stop talking about this now? I don't want to think about my mother anymore. Can we go back to you pretending not to stare at me?"

He flashed a timid smile at her and she couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips. They returned to their work and she didn't mention his mother again, but she couldn't help the anger and sadness that nearly overwhelmed her as she thought of a small, frightened, 11-year-old Peeta being hit so hard with a rolling pin that it broke his arm in two places. She rested her hands on her small bump, idly stroking it and thought that even with the abuse he endured, their baby was going to be lucky to have Peeta Mellark for a father.

The dim light from above the sink filtered across his face as he sighed, his head coming to rest against the lower cabinet door. Katniss sat perched on the countertop transfixed as she watched the way his long lashes fluttered gently while he slept. She yawned and reached her hands above her head to stretch her back. The clock on the oven read 2:06am and showed there was only three minutes left until the last pie was done baking. Peeta had fallen asleep ten minutes prior as he sat on the floor waiting for the pie to finish. Once she knew he was asleep, she turned off the oven's timer and climbed onto the countertop to watch the clock and take the pie out at the appropriate time.

Like Peeta, she was also exhausted, but she knew that if she were to lay down right now she wouldn't be able to go to sleep yet. She had too many things occupying her thoughts to be able to turn off her brain for sleep. She mused about the ridiculousness of life and wondered if she and Peeta would have still ended up here even if her parents had never died. What if his mother had been kind to him? What if they had spoken to each other in school? What if his brother was still alive? There were too many what ifs to consider. She would never really know for sure. Sitting in the dark kitchen with him at that moment felt right and that was all she needed to focus on.

"The pie needs to come out," Peeta mumbled from his place on the floor. His eyes remained closed.

She glanced at the clock and he was right, it was time for the pie to come out of the oven.

"You're right," she said as she jumped down from the counter, turned off the oven, grabbed a pair of oven mitts and moved the pie from the oven to a cooling rack. "How'd you know without the timer?"

He shrugged, opened his eyes, stretched and slowly stood up. "I could just smell that it was ready. Baking is in my blood…and my nose, I guess."

He gave her a drowsy, lopsided grin and moved towards her. He stopped directly in front of her, his face only inches from hers and leaned in. She sucked in a breath, her eyes closed and her body tingled in anticipation. She heard the familiar click of the light switch. Her eyes popped open to find Peeta had turned the light from above the sink off. She had been standing in front of the switch and blocking his access. They stood together in near darkness. The only light provided by the sliver of moon that shone through the kitchen window curtains. Peeta hadn't moved. His body was still pressed against hers. She moved her head experimentally, inching her mouth closer to his until their lips grazed. She listened to his sharp intake of breath and reveled in the feel of his mouth as he spoke against her lips.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

His words were like molten lava straight to her center. She was ablaze. She felt her knees buckle.

They actually buckled.

Just from his words.

If he hadn't of had her pinned to the countertop she was sure she would have fallen to the ground. He hesitated for just a moment although it felt like years. He was giving her a chance to say no. What he didn't realize was that there was no way she was going to walk away from this.

When she didn't stop him, he proceeded cautiously at first, lightly kissing the corners of her mouth. His tongue darted out and caressed her lower lip before sucking it tenderly between his teeth. Her lips parted for him, begging to be claimed. His parted mouth ghosted over hers and she felt his grin. Her tongue found its way through her split lips. She wanted to taste that grin. She wanted to wipe if from his face and make his knees just as weak as hers.

He moved away from her mouth and feathered kisses along her jawline stopping to lave her pulse point with his tongue. On a shuttered moan, her head tipped back to allow him access. His lips found the shell of her ear and he nipped at the lobe. It took an enormous amount of effort to steady herself against him, to force the air in and out of her lungs. His tongue and lips worked their way across her neck to the opposite jawline before arriving back at their starting place.

She hadn't noticed until she lifted her hands to cup his face, but she was trembling. Her heart pounded erratically against her ribs. She let out a tumultuous breath. His lips were tantalizingly close. His eyes, deep sapphire wells that sparkled even in the low light, searched hers. His fingertips traveled the length of her arm before meeting her hand that was still gently cupped around his cheek and jaw. He brought the hand down to his chest. She felt the chaotic hammering of his heart.

"I know," he whispered in an uneven cadence that belied his previous bravado. "Me too."

She wasn't sure who actually moved first – it's possible their movements were synchronized – but their lips collided and he made good on his promise. He kissed her. He kissed her like she had never been kissed before. She felt the kiss in her fingers, in her toes, in the very depths of her being. Time ceased to exist. There was only him and his mouth, hot, wet and urgent against hers. She pawed at his shirt like a needy, desperate thing. She had to have him closer. She wanted more. The act would have embarrassed her with anyone else, but not with him. He felt it too. He needed her as well.

His hands raced down her waist to the back of her thighs lifting her up against him. Her thighs wrapped tightly around his middle and with this contact she became acutely aware of the solid evidence of his want, hard, persistent, and unlike the night before, unashamed. Her thighs involuntarily clinched, pulling him closer. His waist bucked. She's already so wet, so ready. She broke the kiss, leaning her forehead against his. There heavy pants mingling together to form a pocket of humid air. She let a hand leave the expanse of his shoulders to rake through his unruly blonde waves. She knotted her fingers in the ends and lightly pulled.

"Peeta," she whispered against his mouth. She didn't want to have to beg, even as the sound of his name left her throat as an almost desperate plea.

On a growl, he took her mouth again and began to stumble through the darken house with her firmly wrapped around him. She worked quickly to rid herself of her shirt and bra, discarding them somewhere between the kitchen and the living room. Her hands wound between them as she fumbled with the drawstring tie on his sweatpants. Once the waistband was loosened, she slipped her hand inside gripping him firmly. He moaned at the contact, pulling his lips from hers and burying his face in her neck.

"Oh, fuck Katniss," he murmured as he nipped the skin between her neck and shoulder.

She stroked him as they continued their journey through the house. His grip on her backside relaxed for a moment as a door opened. They crashed through to what was now Peeta's bedroom. He slowed at the edge of the bed. His face left her neck. Their noses touched. His fingers skimmed the contour of her neck reaching her face and lovingly tucked a wild wisp of hair behind her ear. Bending forward, he laid her across the bed, pulling her hand out of the waistband of his pants and kissing her fingers.

She watched as his arms crossed over his chest and pulled the t-shirt over his head. She remembered this sight from months before, his bare chest in the moonlight. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of the sweatpants and he worked the garment down his legs freeing himself and baring everything to her. His fingers brushed against her sides as he edged them into the waistbands of her leggings and panties. She lifted her hips to help him remove the offending garments until she too was fully exposed. An inkling of self-consciousness crept into her mind because he had never seen her pregnant belly outside of clothes before. It was still small, but definitely noticeable and she resisted the urge to cover it with her hands.

He must have seen the insecurity on her face because his fingers hesitantly trailed over her sides before settling on her hips. He leaned forward and kissed the swell of her lower abdomen. He sank to his knees. His hands skated over her legs bending them at the knee. His mouth followed placing lingering kisses on her inner thigh, the back of her knee, her calf and finally the arch of her foot. She squirmed and let out a small giggle. Her feet had always been ticklish. He grinned back at her raising a mischievous eyebrow before kissing the arch again, allowing his teeth to slowly rake across the sensitive skin. A yelp escaped her lips followed by a full belly laugh. Peeta chuckled too, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Then, just as quickly as it started, the laughed died in her throat as the pad of Peeta's tongue burned a hot trail along her inner thigh.

Propped up on her elbows, she watched as his mouth delved into her curls, lapping greedily. An involuntarily spasm of pleasure to wracked her body. Her head fell back. Her hips rolled, lifting off the bed. She fisted the sheets unable to focus on anything but Peeta's insistent mouth pushing her closer and closer to the unraveling completely.

Through the pleasure induced fog of her brain, she was vaguely aware of the appreciative, gravely hum of his voice between her thighs and the sound of her moans growing louder and deeper the closer she got. His name, like a prayer, tumbled from her lips in a final gasp. Her back arched off the bed. Her thighs clamped around his head as the final wave a pleasure flowed through her.

Peeta placed a kiss on her hip and climbed on to the mattress. He laid beside her lazily twisting the end of her braid around his fingers. A relaxed sigh escaped his lips, the warmth of it caressed her shoulder followed by feel of his mouth as he placed a kiss upon the shoulder as well. He made no move to seek out gratification of his own pleasure which was something she had never experienced with anyone else. Another piece of him that was unlike any of the others. Another piece that stole a little bit more of her heart.

"You better not be falling asleep on me, Mellark," she teased after a long moment of silence.

"Sleep? Who said anything about sleeping?" He asked just as playfully, his fingers leaving her braid to seek out her breasts.

She leaned into his touch, turning on her side so they were face to face. She was in an explorative mood and she let her hand wander across his face, his shoulder, the expanse of his back before landing on his firm backside. She used the leverage to pull herself even closer feeling him hard and smooth against her stomach. He made a guttural sound at the contact, or maybe it was due to her firm grasp on his lower half, she couldn't be sure. Either way, she enjoyed producing these noises from him. Enjoyed the way his skin heated and flexed under her touch. She bent down and flicked her tongue over his nipple before working it into her mouth completely. His head dropped back on the bed. A gust of air escaped him. It sounded suspiciously like her name. That spurred her on.

She leaned into him further pushing him onto his back, her leg following his movements to straddle his waist. They'd been in this position before. She caught the gleam of recognition in his eyes. The memory of the first time they had done this together. She paved a trail of hot kisses across his chest and neck paying close attention to the sharp jawline she was so fond of. He hummed his praises in her ear. She felt him twitch from between her legs, her desire coating him and causing a sweet friction as they moved together.

She shifted her weight forward bringing her lips down to meet his. Heavy, hot breaths collided. His hands roamed her body seemingly unable to touch her enough. She could feel him at her entrance. She kissed the side of his mouth and leaned her forehead against his. A moment passed between them as they stood at the precipice of something neither of them could fully understand. It felt like they were taking five steps backward and two giant leaps forward at the same time. Uncertainty and desire swirled around them and as they held each other, so close to falling, yet she realized that she had nothing to be afraid of. They had taken the leap months ago, but this time she had no intention of pushing him away. She would hold tight to him as they both crashed into the beginning of this new life together.

She sank down onto him. His hands found her hips as his head dug into the mattress, a deep moan rumbled in his chest. She sat up fully placing her hands on his chest for leverage and began to rock her hips against his. Soon they were moving together a tangle of limbs and mouths, gasps and sighs. She felt him grow harder inside her and she knew he was close. Her hips moved in a frenzied pace as she raced with him toward that blissful end.

"Are you going to come again for me, Katniss?" He panted against her skin.

She simply nodded, her head now burrowed in the crook of his neck. Words were a distant memory in her mind. He turned his head to plant kisses along her neck and behind her ear, pleading with her as he fought back his own release. She felt the familiar tightening low in her belly and she flattened herself against him as best she could, grinding her hips into his and clutching his shoulders to keep herself from bursting into a million pieces. With a final few movements she unfurled, clinching around him as he jerkily lifted his hips to thrust inside her while cursing against her neck.

They landed in a boneless heap on the bed. Dewy beads of perspiration clung to their skin. Heavy breaths punctuated the silence. She pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. Three words leapt to the tip of her tongue, but she remained silent. She smiled sheepishly as she climbed off of him, gathering her panties from the floor and tiptoeing out of the room to use the bathroom. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She didn't look much different than any other time she'd had sex; her face was flushed, her hair a mess, her lips swollen. Why did she feel so much different this time?

Tentatively, she touched her small bump. Maybe that was why. Maybe that was what caused the hollow, aching feeling in her chest whenever she thought of losing Peeta. It was the same ache she felt at the thought of losing Prim. Was this love? Did she love him? She had almost let those three words slip out. She touched her lips in bewilderment. Didn't she just hate him only a couple weeks ago?

No.

Even as much as she tried, she couldn't get herself to hate him. That nagging, aching feeling was always there filling her with such a deep sadness at his loss. She had blamed it on pregnancy hormones, but maybe that wasn't the culprit after all. Her lips parted a gasp escaping as realization dawned on her.

She was in love with Peeta Mellark.

I know I teased a couple of chapters ago about Katniss meeting Finnick and Annie and I promise that will be in the next chapter with a big Thanksgiving feast (and a couple of surprises) The story took on a life of it's own and what I had originally planned to write is being pushed to next time. I hope to have it out by actual Thanksgiving and I'll do my best ;)

Thank you so much again for everyone who is reading and liking this story. It means the world to me.