Daybreak

It was only daybreak when he came to the hallway of my apartment, knocking on my front door. I could hear his fingers tapping nervously on the wood, waiting for somebody to answer. I stood there, staring hard enough to contemplate whether I should even open the door or not. Do I even have the strength to hear what he has to say?

"Katniss?..." He knocked again. "I know you're in there."

I gnawed on my lower lip, leaning my weight against the wall before I could stumble over. Just the sound of his voice made me grow numb and shiver down to my toes.

I don't like it, not being able to have control of myself.

I ran again. From him. It was my defense mechanism and I was never proud of it – I loathed myself for it. Every time I finally had the courage, I would stare back at his intense gaze, filled with emotion and trust, and I would just lose it. I'd open my mouth but no words would come out. Instead I shrunk, looking away and finding another topic to talk about.

"You can't keep pushing me away Katniss. And you know I won't leave."

His soothing voice broke my train of thought. Listening to him calms my heart – brings a peace that I could never fathom I ever experience; a peace that was both heart-wrenching and thrilling at the same time. It made my heart skip multiple beats or stop whenever he wanted to. He always knew what to say to me, what to do to me. He just didn't know how much it affected me. Just the sight of his dancing blue eyes can make my legs quiver.

If I can tell myself all of this why the hell have I been hiding? Running?

I'm a coward and I know it. People tell me I'm strong, being able to raise my sister Prim alone, taking multiple jobs just so we could have a normal life. They tell me I'm brave, with the way I grew up a little too fast at the age of fourteen, learning how to become an adult, a sister, and a mother to my sister. With our parents gone, someone had to step in to be there for Prim, and I had to be both. I had to always put up a cold front – one where no one could enter unless you were caring enough, passionate enough, stubborn enough.

Peeta was exactly that – stubborn, caring, passionate. And even more.

Finally when someone was able to break my walls, I crashed and burned. I built my walls higher from the kindness he showed me, from the comfort that he enveloped me in. I was so afraid of this foreign feeling that I ran, and now I'm back to where I started, staring at my front door and the man I love beyond it.

That's right, I love him. And it absolutely scares the shit out of me.

I sighed heavily and sunk to the floor, wishing that maybe my burdens would just flush out of me-but it didn't. I knew I had to open that door sometime but I can't even find a grasp of myself to even get to talk to him.

"You do know I have a spare key right? Remember last Christmas?"

I laughed a little at the memory, remembering the time he overreacted; using his golden tongue to coax me to give him a spare key to my house, complaining of my inability to cook - more on the fact that I never had any time and just resorted to packed lunches and frozen foods which made his 'gourmet' nose scrunch up - and instead invited himself over to the house to personally cook literally anything he put his mind into.

"Alright, I heard you. I'm coming in."

Well shit. My hand flew to my mouth, but it was already too late. I shouldn't have done that.

I panicked as I heard the fumble of keys and the doorknob turning. Tripping on my own feet, I struggled to stand up and lunged at the door and maybe, just maybe I'd get to the door before he did. But I didn't. My hands found his broad chest, stopping my fall as I gripped unto him.

He grunted from the weight of me, but his arms immediately found their way to my waist, keeping me steady, giving me warmth. All I wanted to do was melt into his arms, just accept what was happening, but my brain just wouldn't let me. I stiffened at his hold as he dipped his head down to rest his lips on the top of my hair. It made my heart burst. It made me crazy.

"Well I didn't expect this sort of welcome," I could feel him grin as his arms tighten around me. "but I definitely don't mind it."

I tell myself I need to pull away, to run again, but I just didn't have the strength anymore. He wouldn't let me anyway. I gripped onto his shirt, resting my forehead on his chest. His shirt crumpled in between my fingers from my grip, fearing he might suddenly disappear.

A little bit hypocritical of me since I was the one who ran away.

He nudged me softly to get me to talk, to move, to do anything at all, but I stood my ground. I looked down onto our feet, not daring to look at him and inhaled his scent – cinnamon, bread, and just him.

He smells like home.

He rubbed my back in soft circles, gentle and calming as if trying to soothe a terrified animal.

"Katniss." He whispered, and I shivered. I love it when he says my name, it's literally music to my ears.

"Look at me, Katniss."

His hand slid from my back to my arm, caressing softly before cupping it to my face as his thumb gently stroked back and forth across my cheek. I leaned into his touch unconsciously, closing my eyes at the feel of his calloused hands that eased me to his warmth. I've never felt so strongly for someone, and just him doing these little things does nothing but strengthen that thought.

I slowly looked up to his cerulean eyes, so bright and blue, so filled with both comfort and love. Love. His blonde unruly hair is disheveled, a few locks falling unto his face, and all I could think was how absolutely beautiful he was. Absolutely perfect.

He smiled, and I broke. He didn't even need to tell me anything, because his actions showed me just what he wanted to tell me. His arms remained encircled around me, embracing me into him as his fingers caress into a sort of rhythm – back and forth, circling, soft, trickling. My vision turned glassy at the sight of him, and he must have noticed as his smile wavered, sadly looking at me.

He pushed the both of us softly inside my house, closing the front door and leaned back against it. Now with no noise from the streets, from my neighbors on their lawns,

we were alone.

Alone in this moment.

"Alright." He brushed stray strands from my face, tucking it behind my ear as he spoke again. "I'll start talking, and this time I've got you hostage."

His hand found my way to mine, slowly tugging my fingers one by one off his shirt so he could intertwine it with his. He stared at our linked hands and I followed suit, his thumb brushing through my palm as he took another deep breath.

"I know you speak with your actions. And by the way, you scowl regardless if you were mad or utterly happy."

He had a mischievous smirk planted on his face and I scoffed at him, jabbing at his chest. He was teasing, but we both know it was true.

Making tacky jokes when I've done nothing but trample on his feelings just screams that I don't deserve him – with the way I've acted towards him the past few hours aren't exactly award-winning kind. Far from it actually.

"And I know you didn't mean anything you said last night."

I froze.

I looked at him in horror. I didn't want my apology to be like this, where I didn't even show him how sorry I was. He is so kind and so giving that he's just willing to forgive me for all the horrible things I've said.

"I know you pushed me away not because you hated me either..."

His hand on mine started trembling now, squeezing a little softly as he probably reminisced about our conversation last night. I am a horrible person, telling him hurtful things like he didn't matter to me. I squeezed his hand back in reassurance and slowly brought my free hand up to his cheek, softly tracing his jawline and the unshaven stubble that tickled me whenever he kissed me.

His lashes fluttered slowly, letting his blues stare back into my grays. I could feel dampness on my cheeks, and his thumb slowly wiped those stray tears away, as if to try and pass the ache I felt to him. He gave me a small smile to try and calm my emotions down but it only makes me feel worse.

I've hurt him.

My hand brushed the soft blonde curls on the base of his neck and pressed my palm slowly, inviting him to dip his head lower. I let our foreheads rest against each other, never breaking our gaze.

"I'm sorry." My voice was soft as the wind, choking on the words at the back of my throat as they came crashing down. "I didn't mean to- I didn't mean anyth- I-"

"Sshh." He sealed my lips with mine, barely touching. A hanging, tingling feeling at the tip of our lips. "It's okay, it's okay."

I shook my head, but only ended up in what looked like shivers. "It's not. It's not and you know it Peeta. You didn't deserve anything I said. You deserve so much more than that. So much more than just me."

"And you deserve much more. I love you Katniss," Another peck, another breath, each mingling into the wind. He continued, "And you can't stop me from loving you. I'll always be here for you, as long as you'll allow me to."

"I-I just don't know how to say what I want to say. I haven't allowed myself to- to feel in so long..."

His fingers on my waist sunk a little deeper as he spoke. "I know."

It's been his favorite line the past few minutes. Just goes to show how much he knew me more than I did.

He spoke again, his voice soft and soothing into my ears. "You need time, Katniss. And I'll give you as long as you want." He gave me a sad smile, and it just tore something inside me.

"When you're ready, let me know." His eyes pierced into my very soul, how much emotion he could show me with just his gaze. "But let me love you. Please."

It just happened. As he always told me, I let my actions do the talking, and so I did. I kissed him. Softly at first, like small, soft-spoken words that could maybe just tell him how I truly felt. But the intensity was too much - the emotions, the pent-up feelings for one another - and it broke the dam. It wasn't like any of our other kisses. It was more than just desire.

It was hunger, longing, a craving.

My mouth parted in his invitation and our tongues melded together. Swirling, prodding - as if it was our first time exploring each other. I could hear him groan, his hand on my waist pulling our bodies closer while his fingers tangled on my hair. He knew where to pick and pry, how to make me moan senseless, but that wasn't what he wanted.

We parted hesitantly, and I swore time slowed as we stared into each other's eyes.

I could feel his breath,

his gaze,

his touch,

and they all made me burn and curl at the same time.

Oh this man was just my dandelion in the spring. My new beginning, my new love.

I didn't even realize I had the biggest smile on my face until he grinned back. His chuckle was a melody I would never get tired of. We stood there for a few moments before completely pulling back, his hands now trailing to my arms, rubbing up and down.

"Now that's done, how about I make us some breakfast?" As I nodded, his eyes sparkled and kissed my forehead once again before striding into my apartment.

I watched him earnestly - his broad chest that did nothing but offer comfort, his strong arms that held me delicately despite his strength, his supple pink lips that not only sung praises of me, but even forgave me for my snarky attitude.

I'm an idiot. What the hell am I even waiting for?

"Peeta?"

When he returned his gaze to me and I met his blues, I felt it - the shivers and the tingling feeling that would reach to my toes were a sign - I knew.

"Hmm?" He responded, smiling ever so sweetly. Oh his voice.

I knew.

"I love you."

No more running.

Not from the man that showed me there was always a spring after a long-cold winter.

My love was just beginning.

Just a spur of the moment oneshot.

I wanted a story where Katniss would finally stop running from everything she found foreign to her.

Just had to put that in writing, and hope you enjoyed.