Chapter Twenty-One: The First Date (Part One)

"The flood waters will recede, the famine will end, the sun will shine tomorrow, and I will always be here to take care of you." —Charlie Brown

I tuck Mom safely into bed, managing to get her to eat a couple of cheese buns and drink a glass of water, before making my way to comfort Prim.

After the initial shock and heartbreak of hearing such hateful words from her, I quickly regained my composure and wiped the tears away. It'll do no good for me to take her misdirected anger personally. I know that she really didn't mean anything that she said and was merely lashing out due to the hopelessness of the situation.

I can't blame her for feeling the way she does. I remember being her age. I remember the desperation I felt as Mom was gradually slipping away from me—along with the increasing amounts of abuse from Snow, and the constant hunger.

But Prim has never known, or at least can't remember, a life that's different than this. She can't recall the comforting love of a mother and father, true security, or a happy home. I'm all she's ever had for emotional support while growing up, and even though I've tried, I know I'm not the most affectionate person at times. I'm not perfect. And I suppose the taste of normalcy she's been experiencing lately—the safety of the bakery and the kindness of the Mellarks—makes her resentful of our horrible circumstances. I can't say that I blame her for it. I feel the same way, but I also know there isn't a quick fix for it all.

I walk into our bedroom and make my way over to the side of her cot. She has the covers pulled up over her head, but I can see her tiny body shaking beneath them and hear her muffled sobs. I kneel down next to her and gently pull the blanket down to see her face. She attempts to pull it back up, but I grip the fabric tightly in my hands. Giving up, she flips over onto her other side to avoid me. I heave a sigh and rub her back as she continues to cry.

"Prim… please look at me?"

"No." She gasps for air between sobs, and her voice is hoarse and weak. "Just leave me alone, Katniss."

I shake my head and run my hand down one of her unkempt braids.

"You know I'm not going to do that," I tell her. "I'd like to leave here just as much as you, but you know why we can't, and it has nothing to do with Mom. Look, I know you're upset and you just want things to get better. I do, too. We're going to find a way out of this, I promise you. It might not be tomorrow, or even next week… but it will happen, all right? Don't think I'm staying around here because I like it. You know I hate it as much as you do. Things are just really messed up and we're stuck for now. And getting Peeta involved would only put him in danger. I don't want him to get hurt."

She doesn't say anything, but sniffles loudly.

Prim isn't ignorant of our circumstances. She knows exactly why we can't leave or say anything to anyone. She hears the threats Snow makes. She's fully aware of Coin's corruption, too. I try to shelter her from as much as I can to protect whatever innocence she has, but there's only so much I can do. There isn't a whole lot I can really hide from her, and besides, hiding things would only make the situation a lot more dangerous for us.

I stand up and move around to the other side of the cot in an attempt to face her again. I bring my hand to her cheek and wipe some of the tears away. She doesn't open her eyes, though, but seems to cry harder. I kiss her softly on the forehead, and lightly lean my own onto hers.

"I love you more than anything in this world, Prim," I try to console her. "And I also know you really don't hate me. Mom also loves you, too, whether you want to believe it or not."

"No, she doesn't," she answers weakly.

"Yes, she does," I counter confidently. "At one time, before all of this, you were the apple of her eye. She used to carry you around everywhere with her. I actually used to get a little jealous because of it." I kiss her cheek and lean back. I smooth some tear-drenched tendrils away from her eyes. "Little Duck, you know she can't help the way she is."

"I don't care," she mumbles, bringing an arm up to cover her face.

I look around the room, not sure of what else to say or do, and release a long breath. I've never been very good at this sort of thing. I don't know how to comfort people when I know that their feelings are completely valid. Hell, I'm not good at comforting people at all, period. Still, I don't like seeing Prim so heartbroken, and I want to make her smile again.

Something quickly dawns on me that I know will probably make her perk up in a split second. Besides, I'm going to have to tell her by tomorrow anyway. She's going to wonder why I'm dropping her off at the bakery with Mr. Mellark for a few hours by herself, after all. I only hope she doesn't say anything to embarrass me. Right now, though, that's the last thing on my mind. I just want her to stop crying.

"Look, I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to go blabbing or make a big deal out of it," I say in my best attempt at a cheerful voice. This seems to get her attention. She slowly brings her arm down from her face and opens her bloodshot eyes, glancing over at me suspiciously and curiously.

"What is it?" she whispers.

I lean down closer to her and give a slight smile.

"Peeta asked me to be his girlfriend last night," I quietly tell her with a shrug, my cheeks warming up. "And… I told him yes."

In an instant, Prim sits up and throws her arms around my neck in a tight hug.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so happy for you!" She pulls back to look at me, her eyes beaming with excitement. The frown and tears have stopped, though her face is still red and wet. She grins widely and continues, "So that's why you both were acting so weird this morning!"

I can't exactly tell her the real reason why Peeta and I were acting oddly, so I simply nod in reply.

"He's so nice and cute and sweet! You must feel like the luckiest girl ever! I know I would," Prim gushes enthusiastically. She hugs me again and kisses my cheek. "I can't believe Peeta's your boyfriend now! That's so great, Katniss!"

"I don't know how I feel about it all just yet," I admit. "He makes me feel like a totally different person sometimes, but in a good way. It… it scares me a little." I fiddle with a frayed end of the blanket and avoid her eyes. "I do like him, though…." I feel a bit silly for telling all of this to Prim. She's basically still a child, after all, and I know she can't really give me any serious advice on how I should feel or what to do. Still, she's the only girl I can talk to about any of this, and I just feel like I need to tell someone.

"Why? Don't be scared. Be happy!" Prim states. "Peeta really likes you, too. And I know he'd never treat you bad."

"I know he wouldn't." I bite the inside of my lip and shrug. "I think that's what scares me, actually. I expect him to… to treat me bad, like other people. But he only gets sweeter. I don't know why."

"Because that's who he is," Prim replies. "He's just like that. You shouldn't be scared of Peeta being nice to you." A sudden mischievous grin takes over her face. "Instead, you should kiss him!"

"Prim!" I laugh and shake my head.

"What? You should!" she insists in a dreamy tone. "A lot! If he was my boyfriend, I'd kiss him all the time, every chance I could get."

My mouth drops open and I'm speechless for a moment. I know my little sister is growing up, but I'll never get used to her talking about boys like this; even if I know she's only joking.

"Geez! Getting a tad boy crazy, aren't you?" I tease, arching an eyebrow. "Keep your lips away from my boyfriend, Primrose Everdeen! He's too old for you."

"I know, I know. But I still think he's great and I still think you should kiss him a lot," she grins.

I blush just thinking about it, but I find myself remembering what happened between us this morning, and really wanting to take Prim's advice.

I wake up the next morning with butterflies swarming in my stomach.

I look at the phone that Peeta had given me yesterday and notice that there are two messages—one from last night and one from this morning. The one from last night says: 'Hope all is well. Thinking of you! Can't wait for tomorrow. Sweet dreams.' And the one from this morning says: 'Good morning. Are we still on for this evening?'. It takes me a moment to figure out how, but I send a quick reply of 'Yes' back to him. He instantly answers: 'Great! See you later. I'll text to you when ready.' I tell him 'OK.'

Of course, this exchange was done with Prim looking over my shoulder the whole time, practically bouncing and unable to contain her excitement. When I finally told her about Peeta and me going on a date, I didn't think she'd ever shut up about it. Needless to say, she was more than cooperative when I asked if she'd be okay with staying at the bakery a few hours with Mr. Mellark.

We bathe ourselves in the lake, which is getting colder by the day as the end of September approaches. I also shave my legs and underarms with an old disposable razor. I usually shave once every two weeks, sparing the few disposable razors I have and trying to make them last as long as I can. Prim hasn't started going through puberty yet and has pale hair anyway, so thankfully I haven't had to share. Now that I have money, though, I'll be able to buy new ones and I can use them more frequently.

Before I know it, evening comes and Peeta texts me to see if I'm ready to meet him at the end of the driveway. I tell him yes, feeling anxiety flood every part of my body. My mind and heart are racing, and I feel jittery all over. Luckily, Snow hasn't come home yet, so I don't have to explain anything to him. Prim keeps hugging and encouraging me, cheerfully reassuring that everything will be all right and not to worry.

I don't exactly have fancy clothes, so I settle on wearing a medium-sized blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans that have the least amount of holes in them. Prim also insists that I wear my hair down for the date, stating that Peeta will like it. I take her advice, but feel self-conscious about it. I know she's right, though. He did seem to like my hair down the last time he saw it that way.

I make sure to tell Prim not to say anything to Mr. Mellark about the way we live, about Snow, Mom's condition, or that Peeta and I are dating. She promises me that she'll stay quiet about everything and be on her best behavior. I don't doubt this, either. She may act up a little around me, but she's typically very quiet and well-mannered around grown-ups and people she barely knows.

When Peeta shows up, I nervously hold my breath as I get into the front seat of his car. He's wearing a pair of tan khakis and a dark green sweater. I can't help but wonder if he chose the color by mere coincidence or because it happens to be my favorite. He smiles brightly over at me, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement. I can tell he wants to kiss me, but he's refraining because of Prim.

I smile shyly back at him and manage a meek, "Hi…"

"Hey," he replies a little breathlessly, and I notice his eyes are drawn to my hair.

"Oh, just kiss already!" Prim teases with a giggle from the backseat.

I turn around, raise my eyebrows, and shake my head in warning. She grins like a little imp, and I look over to see Peeta biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

With a little more lighthearted razzing from Prim along the way, we finally arrive at the bakery. I remind her to be on her best behavior and she says that she will be. Mr. Mellark looks rather knowing about the whole situation, but he doesn't say anything or ask about it. He simply reassures me not to worry about Prim, and that she's not a bother at all. After some brief small talk, and awkward silence on my part, we eventually leave with Mr. Mellark telling us to be safe in a rather serious tone. I assure him that we will be, but Peeta just goes red and gives his dad a weird look. The whole exchange confuses me, but I don't ask about it.

Once we're both inside the car, Peeta leans over and captures my lips with his, bringing his hands to rest gently on both sides of my neck. After a second of hesitation, I bring my own hands to his shoulders and kiss him back.

When we part, he touches his forehead to mine and says, "I've wanted to do that since I first saw you this evening." I don't know what to say so I just smile and look out the window as he starts the car.

"I see you wore your hair down," Peeta says after a few minutes on the road. I shrug and keep my gaze focused on the passing scenery; I notice we're going the opposite way from town.

"Prim said you might like it," I answer quietly.

"Well, she was right." His hand suddenly covers mine and gives it a small squeeze. He entwines our fingers together, and I feel my heart thump wildly against my ribcage. Giving me a timid, sweet smile, he asks, "So… you care what I like?"

"I guess I should, shouldn't I?" I reply. "Since I'm your girlfriend now?"

"Say that again?"

"Say what again?"

"That you're my girlfriend."

"I'm your girlfriend now," I repeat, and my stomach does a flip.

It feels like I'm dreaming and that I'll wake up at any moment. There's no way this is my life. There's no way I'm Peeta Mellark's girlfriend, or that I'm actually going on a date. These things don't happen to me. They don't… but they are. And I'm worried about how I'll pay for it all later.

"Where are we going?" I ask in confusion as Peeta turns onto the gravel road that we both live on. "Are you taking me back home?"

He smiles over at me and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "No. We're going to my house."

"We are? Why?"

He shrugs. "I know you hate public places and the thought of people looking at you. I want you to feel comfortable and happy on our first date. I also just want to spend time with only you, with no one else around. Mom's gone for the rest of the weekend, and Proja's out of town for a game. We'll have the whole place to ourselves."

I'm relieved that our date will be a rather private one. He's right; I'm not much for crowds or public places. I'd be too worried and self-conscious about others looking at me and judging me that I probably wouldn't enjoy anything. Also, with the way Coin ran into us at the pizza place yesterday, I don't feel very safe with having a date in public altogether. I don't need it getting back to Snow, if it hasn't already.

Still, it also makes me feel overwhelmingly nervous and awkward to think that we're going to be completely alone with each other for the first time; especially in his house.

When we finally arrive at the Mellarks' home and walk into the kitchen, I'm completely taken by surprise.

He has the dining room table elegantly set up with two sets of plates, silverware, and glasses. In the center is a crystal vase full of an assortment of wildflowers, and on both sides of it stand two long, red candles in silver holders. There's food already placed everywhere on the surface— though it's all covered with lids. The aroma is intoxicating, and my stomach growls in anticipation.

I'm unable to think of a proper response. I didn't expect this. I didn't expect anything at all. Why would he do this for me? Why does he think I'm worth all of this? I will never understand.

I'm suddenly snapped out of my thoughts as Peeta brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. My skin tingles pleasantly in the spot where his soft. warm lips make contact, and the butterflies in my stomach rush around in a frenzy as his eyes lock onto mine. I can feel the curve of his lips on my skin as he smiles up at me. I attempt to smile back, but I feel my mouth anxiously jerk and shake when I try to.

He moves his lips from my hand and continues to plant small kisses up the length of my arm. I'm flabbergasted by his bold and intimate display of affection, and I don't know how to react to it.

"Peeta…" I whisper without really knowing what to say next. Things are way too silent and intense at the moment, and it's strange for me; strange, yet wonderful. I've never experienced anything like it before, and I'm not really sure how to process it all.

He doesn't stop or say anything in reply, however. His lips reach my shoulder and move to place one gentle lingering kiss on the side of my neck. It sends delightful tremors down my entire body, causing me to give a sudden gasp of surprise; as I do so, he takes the opportunity to kiss my open mouth. I close my eyes tightly and begin to move my lips with his.

He brings his arms around my waist and pulls me close against his chest. I rest my hands between his shoulder and neck, and allow my body to relax. This is all so foreign to me, so unreal, and yet when I'm like this with Peeta—when we kiss and when he holds me close to him— it seems like the most natural thing in the world. I don't fully understand it, but I won't question it either.

When our lips eventually part, he leans his forehead onto mine and says quietly, "I'd really love to spend the whole night kissing you, but we should probably eat dinner before it gets too cold. I'm sure you're hungry, right?"

I look down to see his mouth curve up into a half smile. I shrug and nod once, not wanting to appear overly eager, but he's right; I haven't eaten anything all day and I'm famished, especially with the delicious aromas wafting in the air all around me.

He releases me and walks to the table, gesturing for me to follow him. I slowly make my way over, watching in silence as he lifts the lids off of all the food. Steam rises into the air as I take in the wondrous sight of the feast that Peeta has so thoughtfully made for the occasion.

"I can't believe you did all this," I manage, in awe. "You really didn't have to." I sit down and simply stare in amazement of it all.

He comes over to me and kisses the top of my head.

"Yes, I did. What's a date without dinner?" he asks brightly. "I hope you like steak. I wasn't really sure what kind of food you'd want, and I didn't want to ruin the surprise. I tried to ask Prim about it, but she said that she didn't really know—"

"It's good, Peeta. Everything's amazing," I reassure him. I also find myself thinking, 'You're amazing, too' – which is true, but I don't say it out loud. I'm sure he's aware of just how wonderful he is anyway.

He places a huge steak onto my plate— covering it with brown mushroom gravy, along with mashed potatoes topped with melted butter, shredded cheese, and chopped green onions. He then adds some green beans— which I notice are flavored with pieces of bacon, and a few bread rolls on the side. I can feel my mouth water in anticipation of tasting it all.

"That's just to get you started. If you don't like something, it won't hurt my feelings if you decide not to eat it. As you can see, there's a lot more here, but it can't all fit on your plate at once. Please help yourself to as much as you want; that's what I made it for." He winks at me with an encouraging grin. "The more you eat, the more accomplished I'll feel."

There are a lot of scrumptious looking things on the table, and I feel like sampling them all. I don't even have to taste anything yet to know it'll all be delicious. He tells me to start eating as soon as I want to, and I waste no time in doing so. I was totally correct in assuming it'd be amazing. In fact, amazing would be a complete understatement.

"How in the world did you learn to cook so well?" I ask. "This is just… wow. I can't believe you did all of this…." He smiles humbly as he finishes filling his plate, and glances over at me with a casual shrug.

"Mom was never quite the cooking kind, and I've always liked to experiment in the kitchen."

I take a huge bite out of the mushroom gravy covered steak, and it's so good that I don't feel even slightly self-conscious about it. He proceeds to light the candles in the center of the table, and I want to tell him it's unnecessary, but he seems to have gone to great lengths to create a certain atmosphere for our date. I watch in silent curiosity as he goes over to the wall and turns off the lights.

The only thing lighting the dining room are the candles on the table. I'm not sure how or even why, but the simple ambiance changes the mood of everything entirely. My heart quickens and I take in a slow, deep breath to relax. We're only eating dinner, after all, and I have no reason to feel overwhelmed by it.

But there's just something about seeing each other in the candlelight, surrounded by darkness, that makes me feel utterly exposed. I've always felt more comfortable and at ease in the dark, but I'm not used to being with someone else, besides Prim, when I'm in it.

I look over at him every so often during dinner and catch him studying me rather intently. The flickering shadow of the candlelight's flames dance across his face, in his eyes, on his lips, and I feel a different sort of fire burning deep inside of me. Once again, I find my thoughts going back to yesterday morning, remembering the desire I felt as our lips and tongues met, how my body reacted to his simple touch, and how my breasts had ached with a need to be touched by him. Just thinking about it causes my lower body to react again. I bring my legs tightly together, hoping the sudden gush of warmth and the slight throbbing sensation will go away soon. I'm just very thankful that Peeta can't see the redness of my cheeks. I feel embarrassed and silly for even having these thoughts and feelings, but I can't seem to stop them.

I avert my eyes back to my plate of food, and try not to look over at him again.

"So what was the deal with the cop yesterday?" he asks, breaking the silence all of a sudden. I quickly look up at him, feeling rather surprised he'd spring such a serious and unpleasant question on me during a moment like this. "I got the impression that he wasn't exactly an old family friend."

I bite my lip and look down at my plate. I seem to have lost my appetite, though.

"It's a really long story, Peeta," I answer quietly with a shrug. "It's not a nice one, either. Let's not ruin a perfectly good evening, okay?" I glance over at him and give a feeble attempt at a smile.

"We have plenty of time. It won't ruin anything," he replies tenderly. He looks serious and questioning, but also very sincere. My body is starting to tremble with anxiety. I'm aware that I'm going to have to explain this to him somehow, but I don't really know where to start. I also feel scared to even get him involved. "Katniss, I'm not going to judge you, and it's impossible for you to scare me off. You should know that by now. I just want— need— to know these things, no matter how bad they are, because I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. Don't you think I should have some clue of what's going on?"

"I guess." I aimlessly move some food around my plate with a fork. I sigh and continue with uncertainty, "But… I don't know. I feel bad telling you. I don't want you to get mixed up in all of this, and I don't want you feeling sorry for me. I don't want you to date me out of pity."

"Are you serious? Dating you has nothing to do with pity, and it never will," Peeta says incredulously. "I want to know so I can be there for you and try to help in any way I can. Please tell me? I won't tell anyone else. I just want to know why you were so scared and upset."

"You promise you won't tell?" I close my eyes and hold my breath. What in the world am I getting myself into?

"I promise."

I release the air from my lungs, and before I lose my courage, I blurt, "The cop you saw… he's not a good one. In fact, he's probably worse than most of the criminals he arrests."

I slowly open my eyes to see his reaction. He doesn't appear too surprised, as I'm sure he already knew Coin wasn't exactly a stand-up guy, but he looks like he has a lot of questions that he wants to ask. "What do you mean? What has he done?"

I place the fork down with a sigh and sit all the way back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest and avoiding Peeta's intent gaze. I know I shouldn't be telling him any of this, but I also can't seem to lie to him, either. Somehow I know that when he says he'll be there for me, that he's not going to go anywhere and he'll help me, he means it. After the run-in with Coin, and his comments about visiting the bakery, Peeta needs to know all of this anyway, for his own safety. I don't want to constantly worry that he'll say the wrong thing, not knowing it's the wrong thing, and put us all in danger. He also needs to know why I could never go to the police about Snow.

I continue to explain nervously, "My stepdad, Snow, was partly raised by him. I don't know all the details, but I do know that Snow's real parents died when he was young and he was moved from foster home to foster home. Eventually, Coin adopted him when he was around fourteen, but I highly doubt that it was out of love or compassion."

"Why'd he adopt him, then? Do you know?"

"I was never really told why. Snow and I don't really have a lot of heart-to-hearts," I answer. "But I do know they make drugs together and sell them, and have for years. I guess that's their idea of family bonding. Anyway, Snow knows the power he holds, and he takes full advantage of it. He knows too much, does too much, and Coin will get him out of anything."

"Are you serious?" Peeta asks indignantly, his eyebrows drawn together in disgust. I bite my lip and nod, not knowing what else to really say. "Do the other police officers know? You should turn him in, Katniss! End it all. The guy needs to be put behind bars… both of them do!"

"They all know; they're all corrupt. Coin basically runs this entire town on blackmail and bribes," I answer bitterly with a roll of my eyes. "If I ever told anyone, you can count on me suddenly disappearing, make no mistake. That's why you can never tell anyone what I'm telling you. I'm trusting you more than you realize with this."

Peeta nods in understanding, and without a word, stands up and moves a chair right next to mine. He sits back down and wraps his arms around me, bringing me into an embrace. I rest my head on his shoulder and hug him back.

"You can trust me," he says near my ear.

"I know," I whisper back.

I close my eyes and melt into him. If I had a choice, I'd spend the whole night just like this. I feel unbelievably safe and secure in his arms. It's a nice feeling, not one that I experience very often, and I don't want it to end.

"I promise I'm going to get you away from there, Katniss," he quietly reassures as he rubs my back. "You, your sister, and your mom."

He makes me feel hopeful with his empty words, but I also know that's exactly what they are — empty words. I won't hold him to his promises. I know that he's simply trying to comfort me and I appreciate that, but I also know that there's little he can really do to change anything. After all, if there was a simple fix, I would have thought of it by now.

"Peeta, that's sweet, but you can't. I appreciate the thought, but there's really nothing you can do."

His hand steadies on my back and I feel him hesitate for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he asks in a nervous rush, "You can come live with me? When I turn eighteen in November…."

I lean back and look at him in surprise. I know his heart is in the right place, but now he's just throwing out silly suggestions. There's no way Mrs. Mellark would be okay with me, my sister, and especially my mom, coming to live in their house. Peeta seems completely serious, though. Surely he must see the absurdity in his idea?

I shake my head and give a small laugh. "Again, very sweet. But I really don't think your mom would approve of—"

"I'm moving out on my birthday," he quickly begins to explain. "My dad knows all about it— he's been helping, talking to the landlord of the place, getting everything set up for an easy move. A lot of things will be changing on that day."

"Like what?"

"When I turn eighteen, the bakery becomes mine. My dad's currently going through the process of getting ownership transferred to me on the very day of my birthday. It sounds easy enough, but it's actually pretty complicated and expensive—"

"That's wonderful, Peeta!" I hug him enthusiastically and kiss his cheek; I'm a little embarrassed for doing it, but I just feel so happy for him that I have to express it. He looks at me with a surprised smile, and gives me a quick peck on the lips. My thoughts suddenly go to Mr. Mellark and what he'll do when this happens; the bakery is his livelihood, after all.

"What about your dad, though? Is he retiring or something?"

"No," Peeta answers as he runs a hand down the length of my hair. "Things will still be ran as they normally would, at least until I'm done with school; I'll take over then. The main reason he's doing this now is so that when he divorces my mom, she can't take the bakery. He doesn't care if she takes the house or the car, or anything else; but when I turn eighteen, she can't take his children or the bakery anymore. He's also transferring a huge chunk of money into my account so she can't take that, either. It's been a long time coming, Katniss."

"Wait. Your dad's divorcing your mom?" I ask in wide-eyed disbelief. Peeta smiles and slowly nods. He looks so genuinely relieved and happy by this; I can't help it—I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly again. His hands rest on the sides of my waist without hesitation, and I feel his lips gently brush my neck. "I'm so happy for you."

"I'm happy, too. Very nervous about how it's going to go down, though. Hard telling how she'll react to it all. It won't be very pretty, I know that much," he mumbles against my neck. As it always does, the vibration of his voice causes me to shiver. He notices this and gives a small laugh, but doesn't mention it. He pulls back to look at me, raising his eyebrows in question. "But anyway… will you?"

I narrow my eyes in confusion, my hands still clasped together at his nape. "Will I what?"

Peeta gives a small half smile and answers quietly, "Come live with me?"

He bites his bottom lip and looks at me expectantly for an answer. I don't know what to say, though. What can I say? I really didn't expect such an offer. There's so much that can go wrong with it, and I really don't think he understands just how much danger it'd put us in.

I avoid his eyes and his question, replying in a joking manner, "It's a bit soon to be thinking about things like that, isn't it?"

He shakes his head, not looking deterred in the slightest. If anything, he appears more emboldened in his plan.

"Not really. I mean, it'll be almost two months from now. Even if you decide you don't want to date me by then, I'd rather you still live with me—your sister and mom, too—instead of where you are now, getting hurt and fearing for your life." I shrug and remain silent, purposefully casting my eyes to the side to avoid his gaze. He brings a hand gently to my chin to direct my face towards him. I reluctantly meet his eyes; they seem so kind and reassuring—and intense in the candlelight— that I find myself unable to look away from them again. Even if I didn't believe the words that came from his mouth, I can't help but trust the sincerity and promise in his eyes. He finishes jokingly with, "Please don't say that I'm a worse alternative than your asshole stepdad?"

"Of course not," I answer with a shake of my head. My mind is racing and my heart is pounding. Peeta is causing me to daydream about the possibility of escape, of the idea of a happily ever after, and it feels euphoric. However, another part of me can't help but be a realist and think it's all too good to be true; it won't work. Something will stop it, and I'll wind up worse off than before, or dead. It can't be that simple. Nothing ever is. "I just don't know. It's a big change, and a lot to think about. Snow's not a forgiving man, and he'll think of a way to make me pay for leaving. Like getting us charged for kidnapping or something—"

Peeta tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and continues to run his fingers soothingly through my hair. I watch as his eyes drink in every detail of my face. It makes me feel self-conscious, but with the admiring way he's looking at me, I know he's not thinking bad things at all. But it does make me wonder exactly what his thoughts are.

"If your mom is with you, he can't get anyone for kidnapping, right? And when you turn eighteen, maybe you can try to gain custody of Prim. I'd help you the whole way, with anything and everything," he states. "I know it's a lot to consider, and I don't expect you to give an immediate answer. You have all the way until November, so just think it over?" I avert my gaze downward, focusing on the movement of his mouth as he continues in a near whisper. "I'll take care of you, Katniss, in every way. You won't want or need for anything; I promise you that. I'd never let anyone hurt you again."

I feel overwhelmed. I don't know what to think or feel. I want to tell him yes, but I'm scared. I don't want to make the wrong choice. I don't know what to say.

"I'll… I'll have to think about it, okay?"

"That's all I ask." He kisses my forehead and smiles sweetly at me.

"Thank you," I reply quietly, my mind going in a million different directions.

"Enough with all this serious talk. Let's enjoy the rest of our date, shall we?" Peeta suddenly changes the subject, his voice full of cheer. He grins as he asks, "Ready to go watch a movie?"

His eyes twinkle knowingly, and I instantly wonder what he knows that I don't. "Sure…" I answer with uncertainty. "What are we watching?"

Whatever it is, I'm sure I haven't seen it anyway. The last time I saw a movie, besides the occasional one here and there at school, was when I was eleven.

"It's a surprise!" he answers with a wink.

He leads me downstairs to the basement… only it doesn't look like a typical one. It's not musty or covered in concrete and spiders like I'd imagine. Instead, it's much like a regular room in any other part of the house. There's paneling on the walls, a drop ceiling above my head, and carpet on the floors.

Peeta might be treated shabby by his mom and brothers, but he definitely doesn't live shabby at all. I'm a little intimidated. I know his family is far from poor, but seeing just how well-off they really are—and how much he has—I know he could never truly understand where I'm coming from or how I live. He might think he does, or even be sympathetic, but he'll never have a clue.

My eyes dart around the room, noticing all sorts of things—a painting easel, dressers, a big flat-screen TV on the wall, beautifully realistic paintings hanging here and there, a bookshelf covered from top to bottom, a desk… and also a queen-sized bed.

My eyes go wide with realization and my mouth goes dry.

We're going to be watching a movie in Peeta's room, in the dark, and I'm assuming—since the TV faces directly towards it—on his bed.

And we're completely alone together.

My mind once again goes back to yesterday morning and how I couldn't think of anything other than how good he was making me feel, how amazing it was, how I wanted him to be closer, and how I needed more. I think of his delicious scent, how every inch of my body ached to be touched, and how his slow, passionate kisses matched mine perfectly.

I didn't want it to stop.

I find myself wondering how far things would have carried on had Prim not interrupted us when she did, or if we had been alone like we are now. Would I have stopped? Would he have? Would we have been ready for more? Does anyone ever even know when they're ready?

I gulp rather loudly and my face must be deep red. I suddenly feel very, very awkward. Sure, I've been in Gale's room and in his bed more times than I can count, but that was completely different than this. Gale is like a big brother, a best friend… not a boyfriend. I've never had romantic feelings for him; I've never kissed him passionately or had embarrassing bodily reactions to his touch. With Peeta, however, it's the exact opposite.

This intrigues me and also terrifies the hell out of me.

"So this is where I spend most of my time when I'm not at the bakery or school," Peeta casually explains, evidently not realizing how suggestive it is to bring a girl to his bedroom for a date. He kisses me on the cheek and smiles in a very innocent way that makes me feel ashamed of myself for thinking he might have a less than gentlemanly ulterior motive.

"It's…" My voice cracks from sheer nervousness. I clear my throat and carry on, trying to keep my tone steady, "It's nice."

"Thanks," he says brightly. I don't move a muscle as he grabs a remote and turns the TV on. He then turns off the lights, letting the blue light from the TV flood the room. Suddenly, the butterflies in my stomach develop claws.

He sits down on the bed, against the headboard, and gestures for me to join him. I remain firmly planted where I stand and shake my head.

He appears to be confused for a moment, but then a mischievous, knowing grin comes to his face.

"Katniss," he starts, and I can hear the laughter bubbling behind his voice, "if you don't come sit by me, we can't have sex."

"What…?" My eyes go wide and my mouth drops open in shock. "Peeta!"

He starts to laugh rather heartily at my surprise, and I can tell he was only joking. But still.

"Relax!" he replies, looking extremely amused. "I promise I won't jump your bones or anything, okay? I'll try to restrain myself and be a good boy. Unless you'd rather me not—"

"Shut up," I mumble and cross my arms. "You're not being funny, you know."

He snorts and grins a little wider. "Just get over here and watch the movie? Please?"

I roll my eyes and reluctantly make my way over to the bed. I sit down next to him, keeping my arms crossed. He brings an arm around my shoulders and lightly nudges my side. I look over at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes; he bites his lip to keep from laughing and shakes his head.

"I wish I knew what was going on in your head right now. I never imagined you had such a dirty mind."

"I don't!" I retort and look away from him. He laughs again, but I am not seeing the humor. "You're the one talking about… things. And you should know it's inappropriate to have a date on your bed."

"It's only a bed," he replies, then leans down next to my ear, "not an automatic sex cushion. We can sit on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable?"

I shake my head, but remain silent. I feel so nervous I can barely breathe let alone talk. He kisses my cheek and gives my shoulders a squeeze.

"I'm sorry if you feel weird being in my bed, okay?" he says in a suddenly sincere and timid voice. "I never actually thought about how you might take it. It's just… we don't have a DVD player in the living room, my TV is better, and I never really spend time in there anyway. And I'm only joking with you, Katniss. I'm not expecting anything more out of you, so please don't think I have bad intentions—"

"I don't," I quickly reply.

"You obviously did—"

"Can we just watch the movie now?" I cut him off. "Please?"

"Yes. That sounds like a great idea," he answers with a smile. He kisses my temple and presses play on the remote. As soon as the sepia picture comes into view and the music starts, I know exactly what movie it is.

"This…" I start in breathless surprise. "This isn't…?"

"It is." He nods and looks rather pleased with himself.

I feel overwhelmingly nostalgic and amazed that Peeta would even pick this one out of all he could have chosen.

It's my all-time favorite movie.