I stumble back to my own home, but not before seeing that Peeta's front door is still open. If I was a good neighbor, I might go over there and check on him, but I've never been that kind of a person. I also remember the look in his eye. It so dark and unwelcoming, not look Peeta at all.

Then, it hits me. His pupils were dilated, and his face was paler than normal. A hijacking nightmare had overcome him. My heart aches for him to be free of the pain that Snow caused him and the Capitol doctors couldn't fix.

I manage to get up my stairs and into the shower, but it's not an easy task. The room is spinning, and I keep tripping over my own feet. I have to sit on the floor of the shower and let the water run over me. I even wash my hair and body in this position.

After a while, I'm able to stand and climb out of the shower. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. I select a blue blouse and dark pants from my closet. Nothing too fancy, just causal. As I make my way to the kitchen, I braid my hair back into its usual position. Then, I follow Haymitch's instructions to drink plenty of water.

By the time it is six o'clock, I'm standing outside by the fountain. Haymitch has joined me. It seems as if we both made sure we were early. Peeta had done something kind again. Something neither Haymitch or I would have though of or done ourselves. We did owe Greasy Sae for the past few months.

I notice that the door to Peeta's is closed. He must have been able to pull himself back together over the last couple of hours. The sound of the door opening and closing behind me makes my heart flutter.

Peeta's wearing a nice shirt and pants. It's causal like Haymitch and I, and I'm glad I made the right clothing choice. "Everyone sober?" He asks with a hint of anger in his voice.

I look away. My cheeks burning in embarrassment. Haymitch says, "As sober as I usually am."

I roll my eyes and begin walking. Haymitch is never sober.

I order the lamb stew with dried plums, something the menu calls "The Girl on Fire." There's no doubt it's a reference to me and what I said was my favorite meal in the Capitol. It's delicious.

Peeta orders a "Boy with the Bread." It's a meatball sub sandwich with dripping meat sauce. He's giddy at the fact that it is named after him.

Haymitch orders a steaming bowl of cabbage soup doubted "The Hangover." Peeta and I tell him it's fitting.

The conversation flows well between Haymitch and Peeta. I occasionally add in, but I try my best to keep to myself. My pounding head makes it hard to concentrate for too long. Before I know it, we've paid the check and said goodbye to Sae.

Haymitch excused himself to go to the new bar that opened yesterday, leaving Peeta and I to walk home alone. I don't know if it was by design, but I knew it would be too good to be true if I could make it out of this night without a deep conversation with the baker.

The first few steps out of the square are quiet except for the usual hum of people going about their business. District 12 is a lot more lively now that people are not constantly starving to death. As our feet hit the path that leads to the Victor's Village, Peeta breaks the comfortable silence. "Have you been out hunting lately?" He asks.

His question almost stuns me. The normal Katniss lived for the woods and was there everyday. This new Katniss can hardly step foot outside of her house. "No," I tell him. "I haven't been in the woods since before the Quarter Quell."

This causes a frown to form on his face, and I have to look away. "Oh, I was just wondering if the herbs have started growing."

It's mid- to- late April, and the weather has become warmer than normal. The usual rounds of frost have decided to stay away this year... another thing that is different.

"I'm sure there are," I say, trying to keep any emotion out of my voice. Yet, my mind wanders to my old meet up spot with Gale. Was the blackberry bush still there? Were the animals adjusting to us and the citizens being gone? My heart longs to visit, but my brain won't let my body go there.

"I helped you make a book of plants. Real or not real?"

I stumble over my sandals and give Peeta a wondrous look. "Real. You remember that?"

"Yes," he admits as the frown deepens. Something in his mind won't let him relish the satisfaction of remembering something from his old life. I relate to that well. It's when he says, "I remember you were injured and we spent a lot of time together," that I realize why he's frowning.

I blush and remember the times he spent the night with me. His arms around my body, and his whispers calming calming my nightmares. There were times when I aided in soothing his nightmares as well. So I tell him, "Yes, I injured my foot and tailbone climbing over the fence before we were sent back. You brought me cheese buns every day, stayed with me when I asked you too, and we finished the book that my father started."

"I remember drawing the plants. You wrote the descriptions and purposes."

I nod and swallow hard. The topic is light, so why am I having so much trouble talking about it? I know why. It's not hard for me to figure it out. That's the first time I remember being in love with Peeta. I watched his hands create delicate and beautiful drawings, the intense look on his face as he drew, and his blonde eyelashes.

It's Peeta's turn to blush as he says, "I remember you staring at me a lot."

I try to join him in laughing, but its awkward. So he did catch me. "So what herbs are you looking for?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

He lets me. "You know, rosemary, basil, thyme, dill, anything really. Shipments from 11 have been unpredictable lately."

I know what he means. I've seen the reports on the television talking about the lack of labor in the agriculture district. Since 11was one of the first districts to rebel, their population took a drastic him. Those that managed to survive the war didn't find the long, hot hours desirable and decided to build their homes elsewhere. District 12 has had the same problem. Although machines and devices are being created to combat this problem, there is a lot of controversy around it stealing people's jobs and income. But there has to be people to steal it from first.

"Well, you can borrow the book anytime. I wouldn't want you to cook something poisonous into the bread." My tone is joking, but the meaning underneath my words are not lost to either of us. I quickly glance at the man beside me and regret saying it.

Peeta catches my gaze and gives me a sad smile, remembering the time Foxface died eating the berries Peeta picked. "Wouldn't want to make that mistake when my life is finally going well."

I relax and look down at the stones beneath my feet. I can always count on Peeta to make me feel better about my own mistakes. After a few minutes of silence, I ask something that has been bothering me for a while. I can see the outline of the gate and can make a brisk escape if needed. "Peeta, in 13, you said you had a lot of memories on the train that you couldn't sort out..."

I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face, but I don't dare to look. "Don't worry. Dr. Aurelius and Haymitch have already sorted that and the baby situation out for me." There's a chuckle at the end, but it's not genuine.

The blood drains from my face, and I have no choice but to look at his face. I can see the pain in his eyes, a look I am familiar with causing. "Oh," is all I say.

"We did that too before the Quarter Quell. Real or not real?"

I want to bury my face in my hands at the embarrassment of his question. I almost feel guilty for my actions back then. We used each other to fend off the nightmares and were strangers during the day. But I couldn't risk opening up to him. I had too much on the line. I needed to keep him, my family, and Gale's family safe from Snow. I needed to keep him alive, and I needed to make it hurt less when he lost me.

"Real, but it was always just sleeping," I say, trying to make a point.

Peeta laughs a laugh that is so full of warmth that my stomach flutters. I could listen to that sound for the rest of my life. I feel another chunk of my invisible wall crumble within me. "I know, Katniss. It's okay."

I'm grateful for the sight of my home and the silence that surrounds us as we get closer. At the stairs of my porch, I tell him, "Goodnight, Peeta. I had fun."

He grins at me in the most handsome way, almost like the old Peeta did. "I did too. Its good to see you taking care of yourself, Katniss. Goodnight."

I slip into the safety that is my own home and analyze Peeta's words as I climb the stairs. I decide that he is referencing the first time he saw me when he came back. I was skinny from not eating or moving. I was a patchwork of pink and white skin, and my hair was still growing back. Today, my scars are all the same perky shade of pink, and my hair is all the same length. Greasy Sae's food has been coaxing my body back to a healthy weight. All I need to do is exercise and gain some muscle, and I will look like the girl from the Seam again.

That night, I have my first dream in a long time. There is no death or screaming. It's just me and Peeta. We're alone in my bed with his arms around me. His lips are on mine, and the feeling of his tongue is enough to light that fire again. The one that I felt on the beach. It pools in my stomach, and I want nothing more than Peeta to extinguish it.

He shifts so that he is hovering above me. His body between my legs, and his hands are wandering all over me. My own hands wander over parts of him that I haven't thought about touching since I nursed him back to health in the first games. Finally, his hand travels down my side and across my thigh. He finds the spot that is the source of this hunger, and I gasp when he touches it.

That same gasp pulls me from the dream. I sit up in my bed and look around to make sure no one is watching me, even though I know no one is around. I can feel the heat in my face, and I'm shocked that I am smiling.

It's very early in the morning. So early that sun is just beginning to rise. I immediately that I will not be able to go back to sleep, so I get up and dress. I find a pair of thin leggings designed by Cinna and a breathable t-shirt. My stylist knew me better than anyone. I braid my hair as I race down the stairs. I grab my leather bag and scribble a note to Greasy Sae telling her that I am going to the woods.