I found this on Youtube and is makes my little fangirl heart flutter. enjoy! watch?v=B3Z2-LPHELU

KATNISS

The grass beneath my feet is soft and cool. I wiggle my toes into the blades and unfurrow a quilt under the branches of a large oak tree. Sun dabbles the multi-colored squares and a breeze blows cooling my skin of the early summer heat. It's a perfect June day. I drop down onto the blanket and flop onto my back. The leaves above me sway in the breeze moving the light and shadows with each gust.
"Will you paint this for me?" I ask.

I feel the blanket shift next to me. "It is beautiful," he agrees, "and I can try, but I don't know if I'll be able to catch the changing of the light," he sighs.

I turn my head to look at him and find his blue eye's looking back at me. I smile. "You underestimate yourself Mr. Mellark."

His smile is brilliant. "Maybe you're just easy to please," he teases, poking me in the side.

I tense and laugh; this is my ticklish spot. I roll over onto my stomach and give him a faux evil eye.

This only seems to encourage him. He reaches over and begins poking and ticking my sides with a relentless fervor. "Katniss you have ants all over you!" he exclaims, laughing loudly at my squeals. I wiggle away and flop onto my back only to find him hovering over me and looking very pleased with himself. I stick my fingers into the hard muscles of his stomach, but he doesn't flinch. He shakes his head, "I'm not ticklish," he grins with satisfaction.

I raise an eyebrow, "Oh I don't know about that," I coo. I move my right hand to the back of his neck and let my fingertips brush to sensitive baby hairs at the nape of his neck. He shivers. "Not ticklish hu?" I tease playfully. When he doesn't respond I look into his eyes and find his pupils have nearly takeover the cerulean blue of his irises. His breath hitches as he speaks. "Still not ticklish," he says, his voice deeper than a moment ago.

My stomach flops. "No? What would you call it then?" I ask, suddenly unable to catch my breath.

He shakes his head. "Let me show you," he whispers huskily. I'm paralyzed with the feeling of anxiety mixed excitement. Slowing lowers his head between my head and right shoulder his warm breath blows across the delicate skin of my neck sending a shiver runs down my spine. His hooded eyes return to mine, Ticklish?" he asks, the single word laced with many meanings.

I want to speak but words don't form. Even if they did I don't know that I could force them past my lips, so I just shake my head. As we stare at one another, the small space between us fills up with the scent of cinnamon and dill that seems to accompany Peeta where ever he goes, it's intoxicating. My heart is thumping so hard I'm certain he can feel it where our chests connect. He gazes down at me for what feels like hours, then smiles slow and sultry. "Tell me to stop," he breathes as his lips move toward my own. My every nerve ending is firing as I send tingling fingers into his curls.

Suddenly I'm not on the ground under the weight of Peeta's body but floating above the scene. Disorientated, I blink a few times trying to focus my eyes on the blanket beneath me. When they spot a spray of sunset hair spread out across the patchwork quilt my throat tightens and a scream escapes my lips.

I wake with my district partner's name on my lips and sitting straight up in bed. My hands ache where they clench at the bedsheets. My heart pounding, I look wildly around the room. Early morning sunlight has just started to filter through the curtains casting long shadows around the room.

I swallow thickly. "It was a dream," I whisper still trying to catch my breath.

I pry my fingers from the bedsheets and raise a hand to push away a sweaty strand of hair from my face. "Just a dream," I repeat. Or was it? An annoying voice in the back of my head asks. Haymitch's warnings from yesterday replay in my ears. I had refused to even consider his thoughts at the time, feeling self-justified in my anger, but now with the dream so fresh, his words come unbidden. "He's not going to be available forever. Other people are going to see how special he is."

The image of dream Peeta kissing Tova punches at the back of my brain so I try to focus on the first part of the dream instead. It had felt like any other day back home in twelve…that is until it wasn't. It's the "until it wasn't" part that has me a bit baffled. Nothing like that has ever happened between Peeta and I. The days in the cave during our first games and night I kissed him on the beach in the quell quickly surface in my memory and I can't deny that how I felt this is how I felt about dream Peeta. I liked touching him, craved it even. I've always dismissed what happened between us in our games, chalking them up to my reaction to life-threatening situations, but faced with the dream I can deny that those feels are maybe not resolved as I thought they were. This revelation makes my head spin. I rub at my eyes and try to stop feeling overwhelmed.

"It was a dream. A dream," I say, attempting to convince myself with the mantra. Haymitch's is once again in my head, "You just have to be brave enough to decide what you want. If you don't want him, you need to let him go. He deserves to be happy."

The need to escapes this room, my chaotic thoughts and see Peeta land on me like a tilde wave. I throw off my covers. As my feet hit the carpet I can't begin to unravel what is I'm after exactly, but the one thing I am certain of is that I want Peeta to know I'll be here at 1 o'clock to talk.

I quickly pad down the hall to his door but find it standing open the bed made. Turning on my heels I dash to the kitchen. Shoving open the door I stumble to a halt when I find only Effie and Haymitch reading the paper and eating pastries. "Where's Peeta?" I ask abruptly.

Effie looks up over her cup, "He's already left dear," she smiles. "But he left something for you on the counter," she says pointing to a plate covered by a tea towel. I walk over and lift the towel revealing two perfect cheese buns. These aren't the ones I "helped" with yesterday, these are perfectly stuffed and golden brown, my eyes tear up unexpectantly. Next plate I find a note. "1 pm, please be here," it reads. I brush the tears on my lashes away and shove the note in my pocket before scooping up a roll. Dropping down in a chair across from Haymitch, I begin picking at my food. "When did he leave," I ask, trying to sound casual.

Haymitch looks over his paper at me, one eyebrow cocked up at me. "Since when are you his keeper?" he asks.

Effie swats his arm. "Just answer the girl Haymitch!" she states exasperated.

"About 7:45," he mumbles, rising the newspaper up to cover his face.

I pick at the bun for a second, before the statement sinks in. "Wait, what time is it now?" I ask, frantically looking around the kitchen for a clock.
Effie lifts her arm and glances at her watch, "Quarter after eight," she says.

Dropping my breakfast, I jump up. "Shit, I need to get ready!" I yell and run for the door. As I race down the hall, Effie's voice trails after me, "Young lady, language!"

PEETA

Armed with a map and a route highlighted in yellow, I'm making my way on foot to Tova's. Its around-about path for sure, but Effie has ensured me it should be free of gossip reporters. I could have taken a car of course, but the speed at which life moves in the Capitol has had me missing the time I'm afforded when forced to walk everywhere back home. A round-trip walk into town in twelve always gives you at least an hour to pounder life. When I set off this morning I knew I needed a good long walk to work out the past few days but here I am, nearly ten blocks gone and not one thing has been sorted. I sigh in frustration and start the circular thought pattern I've found myself in over again. I need to sort something out or I'm going to drive myself insane.

I start at the top: I chose to kiss Tova yesterday. I had been surprised by her kiss on the porch the night of the party, I made a choice to kiss her yesterday as a means to investigate the feelings she stirred up with the peck. The problem is, I'm still not clear on what the investigation solved. What am I feeling? Attraction? There is no denying that Tova is beautiful, but there are plenty of beautiful people in the world and I'm not locking lips with all of them. Then again I shouldn't discount attraction, it plays a real part in developing feelings for someone. Is how I'm currently feeling about her different than how I felt about her as my friend? Did I even like the kiss? I reflect honestly for a second, I did like it, but I've enjoyed kissed other girls in the past and didn't honestly have feelings for them. Hmmm… apparently the memories of my upper school years were of no interest to Snow's men, these memories are pristine. I had two girlfriends in grade 10, even went as far as "second base" with them, according to older brother Flynn, but I didn't really have feelings for either of them. That brings me to the one true comparison I might have, kissing Katniss. Those memories that tell me that those kisses went together with my feelings but thanks to my very best buddies in the Capitol torture center can't completely trust them. I've of course seen the real footage of our games and videos of us from Victory Tour, but most often I just feel like that happened to someone else, my version of these events feels far more sinister. I wonder, even now, if I'll ever get back what really happened. Then again, maybe it's best I don't?, I don't know what the right answer is. In the year and a half since my treatment started, my relationship with Katniss has turned into my most cherished friendship. It is what our life together is now and it isn't romantic. And here is the hitch in this whole circle of thinking: if Katniss is only a friend to me then why do I feel guilty about Tova? What was that whole countertop thing the other day and what about how I felt waking up with her yesterday morning?

And this is where my thoughts end up every time. I have a few theories as to why, but I'm not sure any of them are helpful in solving my conundrum. But here they are. One: I'm feeling guilty because I will end up going back to Twelve in a couple of weeks and I don't know if I can manage a long-distance relationship with Tova. Two: My therapy is holding me back. A romantic relationship hasn't been the main focus of my counseling and training. Sex I think about, romance, no...and this is a lie, isn't it? Yes, yes it is. You took the time to ask the doc about the whole touching Katniss thing, haven't you? And ladies and gentlemen there you have it, the number one question of the day: Why?

I groan and check my map. FOCUS! There are bigger more pressing questions to solve aren't there! Katniss's face the morning on the counter flashes in my brain.

Fuck it, on to number 3: If I still don't really know what Snow's BFF's were tinkering around with inside my head, is it even possible for me to fall in love? While I can't feel what I did for Katniss back before I was hijacked, I do know that what I said and did was real. The old Peeta did care for her, deeply. It stands to reason that if Snow was in there messing with the memories I had of loving someone, did he screw up my entire ability to feel romantic love again? The team of doctors I've seen don't seem to have an answer to this question. They've told me, "You'll know if it happens." Not very reassuring or helpful but it's all I got to go on. I'm totally screwed.

My mind spins and starts off towards the instant replay game again. I sigh and give my head a shake. I can't start over again, it's getting me nowhere and based on my map, I'm only four blocks away from my destination. "Focus Mellark," I mutter as I cross the street.

What makes this thing with Tova different. I pose to myself. Well to start with, she isn't a high school girl you're taking to kiss behind the slag heap, is she? She's told you she has real feelings. The realization causes me to stop in my tracks. Of course, I realize she's not a high school girl. Have I taken advantage of her as if she is one? My thoughts go Katniss. Wasn't she the reason none of the others ever ended up working out? Because I had feelings for her and not the others? Is this even the same situation? . My thoughts spin over the last few days and get caught up once again on our morning cheese bun making session and to our dance at the party. My heart begins to pound and a headache creeps up the back of my neck. Absently I rub at a temple. End Game Mellark. You've arrived.

As I approach the back of Tova's apartment building and quickly spot a long pair of legs stretched out along the stairs. My eyes trail up the firm and tan limbs, to a short floral sundress, then to a beautiful smile and finally settle on the brightest set of sparkling green eyes I've ever seen. What the hell am I'm going to do?