After opening up to Peeta, I feel something that I have rarely felt before. A feeling that only Peeta has ever ignited in me. I want him. I want all of him, and I want to give myself to him. Deep down, I know that it is my vulnerability. Its the fact that I've never felt so close to someone before, and I know that we are too delicate for this. We should stop. Yet, when his lips press against mine, I do nothing to stop it.

My hands find their way to Peeta's chest, and I give it a light push. That breaks our spell instantly. "Katniss," he moans as he pulls back. "Not like this."

I frown at him. His previous rejection is still fresh in my mind. "Oh," I say quietly.

"It's not that I don't want to..." He starts to say but gets lost in his own mind. "I do, but I don't want you to regret anything. The last time we talked, I was kind of a jerk."

I give him a simple nod. I understand, and my day has been filled with various emotions. Before I can even think of a reply, I yawn. Fatigue washes over me, and I give Peeta a sheepish look. "Stay with me?" I ask, remembering when I asked him to hang out with me all those days ago.

Without any hesitation, Peeta makes himself comfortable on my bed. He opens his arms for me to slide in. When I do, I am not disappointed. It doesn't take long for sleep to find me. I don't know if I imagine it or if he really says it, but I hear his voice say, "Always" before I succumb to a land of haunting dreams.

I wake with a start. Peeta is shaking my shoulder and calling out my name. I can only hear him a bit over the sound of my racing heart. Gasping for air, I remember identifying the bodies of my dead father and sister. I remember the smell, the color of their dead flesh, and the t shirts that read "Katniss's biggest fans."

"Katniss, are you okay?" He asks, and I finally hear it.

I cough a few times to clear my throat. Its sore from all of the screaming I must have done. Peeta has heard my nightmares through the walls, but the look on his face tells me that a front row seat is terrifying. "I'm fine," I rasp out.

Peeta studies me for several moments. Its like he is trying to decide if he wants to press me about it, or if he is trying to make sure that I am actually okay. He must make up his mind because he lays back down and pulls my into his warm chest.

Embarrassed tears sting my eyes, but I push that thought out of my mind. I have to or else I will spend the rest of the night thinking about it.

With a sudden surge of confidence, I make the first move again. I look up to find his blue eyes watching me. I lean in and press my lips to his. Its a hungry kiss on both of our ends. Me wanting intimacy, and him wanting to protect me.

This time, Peeta does not protest when I push him onto his back and crawl on top of him. In an instant, I can feel how hard and ready he is for me. His hands travel from my hair down to my hips. He takes me by surprise when he wraps his arms around my waist and flips us over so he is on top. He fits perfectly between my legs.

We take our time and explore each other. He finds a spot on my neck that makes me moan, and I find a spot on his left hip that tickles. I discover a tattoo of a bird with a long beak and spread wings on the inside of his hip. Its an odd tattoo in an odd location, and I make a mental note to ask him about it later since his hand is traveling to new territory. The feeling of him touching me is more intense that it is when I touch myself. Its a good feeling, and I don't want it to stop. I never want this to end.

Being naked before Peeta feels familiar, and I'm not half as embarrassed as I thought I would be. Everything about Peeta has felt comfortable, and I know that I would trust him with my life. Despite our shitty situation, I know that he cares for me, and I know that I'd be perfectly okay with spending the rest of my life for him. This thought is exactly when I tell him to open the condom that he has produced from his wallet.

There's no time to think about the rest of our lives or how I can to convince him to take our relationship public. In fact, I don't even want to think about. All I want is Peeta Mellark... anyway that I can get him, which means a lot coming from me.

When he enters me, I feel a slight discomfort. I wince at the feelings, but it is not as painful as I expected losing my virginity to be. Something must tip Peeta off because he freezes inside of me. His face turns red, and his eyes grow wider. His mouth opens and closes several times as if he can't find the words.

Sure, its something we probably should have discussed. I should have told him that I was still a virgin at twenty-two, but I really didn't think it would make a difference. I didn't think he would notice, and I especially didn't think it would happen so fast... or at all.

Peeta finds his voice and asks, "Katniss, are you a virgin?"

Peeta has a way of making everything sound nice. Its like he paints a picture with his words, and his voice radiates confidence when he says it. He could make you fall in love with something you hate. He could make you rethink everything you have ever known. Its the voice that starts revolutions and wins wars.

So when he asks that question and makes it sound dirty, I know that I've fucked up. His voice is laced with a slow killing venom. It makes my cheeks heat up more than the already are. It makes me want to cover myself up and hide in my room for the rest of my life. I have never been an extremely confident person, but I don't feel a single drop of confidence in this moment.

I feel like a disgrace. I feel ashamed of my lack of experience, and my mouth is dry when I reply, "Yes."

I haven't quiet figured out what makes Peeta tick. I know his common characteristics like fact that he enjoys cooking, is an amazing baker, and he double knots his shoe laces. He sweats when he sleeps, and he is an annoyingly slow driver. He loves his little brother, and he would do anything to protect him, including sacrificing his own happiness.

I've seen the look he has on his face now once before. It happened when he told me about his family. His mother that believed in physically punishing her sons, and his father that was too much of a coward to stop it. The same family that made his love for his brother as strong as it is today.

Suddenly and painfully, Peeta pulls out of me. I'm left confused and cold when he jumps off me and my bed without a word. He gathers his clothes in his hands and mutters out a "I can't do this" before rushing out of my room.

I'm mortified. I sit in silence and the cold of my room for several moments, too in shock to even pull a blanket over my exposed form. When I do, I turn onto my side and curl into a ball. I have never felt more hamulated in my life. Not when the star quarterback asked me to prom as a pity date. Not when my mother forgot to mother me and my teachers found out. Not even when I fall flat on my ass in public because I can't handle the stupid Indiana snow.

I don't know how I have any tears left in me, but they manage to make their way out of my eyes and onto my pillowcase. The pillow smells like Peeta, and it makes the situation that just occurred feel even more real. Technically, I am no longer a virgin. Technically, I haven't had sex either.

Part of me expects Peeta to come back. To take me in his arms and hold me. To tell me that he is sorry and that everything will be alright. But he doesn't. I watch the hours pass by on the clock beside my bed. Morning comes, and I don't get up. I don't answer any calls or texts from my friends. I hear someone rummaging in the kitchen, but I can't imagine eating. I can't imagine running into Peeta when I need to eat or use the restroom. So, I hold it in, which isn't hard since I feel so numb. That's a bridge to cross when I get there.

Its early afternoon when I finally emerge from the safety of my bed. My bladder is ready to explode, and I need out of this house. I gather all of my things to head to the pool. The water always clears my mind, and I need some form of sanity right now. I'm lucky when I check the hall and when I make my way into the bathroom. Last night's make up is smeared across my face. There's probably more of it on my pillow than on my face. I clean myself up and head out.

Like I said, I need out of this house. Now.

I'm not lucky when I try to escape out of the house. Rye and Peeta are watching something on the television when I ungraciously stumble through the living room. I'm like a hurricane leaving destruction in my wake. Peeta looks like he is about to get sick, and his face pales the second he sees me. Rye looks unusually cheerful when he asks me to join them.

I don't even pause to answer them. With my hand on the doorknob, I say, "I've got plans."