Seize Me

Chapter 8

"You've carried on so long,

You couldn't stop if you tried it.

You've built your wall so high,

That no one could climb it,

But I'm gonna try."

Labrinth-Beneath Your Beautiful

"No one can know about this," I say firmly to Peeta.

We're still standing up in the rafters of the stage, neither of us willing to leave and figure out how to maneuver what's just happened once we get back to the real world. Peeta's arms are around me, holding me close to his chest, and he's breathing in the scent of my hair. My eyes are closed and I'm focused on his even breathing, which is soothing in comparison to his racing heart. It had thrilled me so much, I'd leaned up to press another kiss to him lips.

Well, it had been soothing. But Peeta's sharp intake of breath startles me, and I pull my head back to look at him, surprised by his reaction. His eyes are wide and hurt as he says, "What do you mean?"

I take in his face, unnerved by how much my comment has blindsided him. Surely he didn't think we could just prance downstairs and announce to everyone, "Hey, we made out during the song. It was totally hot and I completely want to jump his bones."

Yeah. No.

"Peeta," I say, trying to chastise him while the fingers tracing circles on my back are making me shiver. "I'm not ready for this. I don't want the publicity of dating a celebrity. I don't want the boys to know about this. The girls either."

"To be fair, I never asked you to date me," Peeta says with a grin.

Well..shit. He's right, of course. I'm getting ahead of myself, assuming things I shouldn't. I'm inviting things I myself don't even want...do I?

"Of course," I say with a scowl. "You know what I meant."

"I guess I don't know what you mean," Peeta says soberly. "What does this mean for us?"

I sigh, pressing my forehead against his chest in exasperation. "I...don't know," I say dejectedly. "I guess we'll just figure that out as we go. It's just..." I turn my head and rub my cheek against the cotton of his shirt, trying to figure out how to say what I'm thinking. Which is hard, considering the rising wave of panic in my stomach. "I'm not a people-person," I confess finally.

I can feel the laugh building in his chest before I hear it. As it bubbles out and hits the air, I pull back and have to fight the urge to smack him. I can tell he's trying to hold it in from the miserable noises he's making, but he's failing terribly.

"You?" he laughs, rubbing his hands up and down my back as he says it. "Not you. You run with the unicorns and ponies."

"Very funny," I say with a scowl, pushing away from him and crossing my arms. "I'm serious, Peeta. No one can know about this."

Peeta gives a small groan and reaches for me, pulling me back up against him. I don't embrace him back; instead I keep my arms firmly crossed in front of me. Now that I've got the kissing thing out of the way, I feel like I can hate him a little more easily now. I'm almost sure of it until I raise my head and he brushes his nose along mine teasingly, taking my breath away.

"Okay," he says finally. "We'll try it your way. But what are we going to tell people?"

I try to muddle through my thoughts and remember what I'd been getting at with this whole conversation, but it's getting harder and harder the closer his lips hover near mine. I'm trying to remember all the arguments I'd been lining up in my head, listing the various problems with going public. The number one reason being that we don't even really know what's going on between us.

"We'll just tell them we're going to try being friends first," I gasp as he places a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. "Going to...uhn...take it slow?" The last bit comes off as more of a question than I want it to, probably because my body is doing everything it can to beg him to kiss me.

"That's going to be hard," Peeta whispers across the skin of my cheek. "Friends don't usually kiss."

"Maybe we just won't kiss," I say flatly. I'm determined to batten down the hatches, to force myself to take a step back and reassess the situation. I went from wanting to clock the guy to melting at his feet.

I place my hands firmly on his chest with every intent to push away from him and regain some breathing space. But instead I can feel the pounding of his heart beneath my right hand while my left hand picks up on his increased breathing. The warmth radiating from his chest scorches me, sending waves of heat straight from my hand to my chest, where it curls and settles into an unfamiliar sort of feeling I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with. The heat flares when Peeta's lips ghost against mine, a small teasing smile formed on them.

"Are you sure you could handle that?" he asks slyly. He doesn't pull back from my lips so every movement of his mouth is a brush against mine, and I can feel myself quite literally quake with the rush of it. "I didn't get the impression you wanted to stop."

Fuck.

"Well, we'll have to try," I manage to say, pulling my lips away from his. "This trip isn't about hooking up. It's about letting Prim have a fun summer."

Peeta gives a quick chortle then says, "You know Prim wouldn't care, right? She encouraged this."

I shake my head with a roll of the eyes as I push his body away from mine successfully this time, ignoring the charged heat that goes rolling through me again. "My sister thinks she knows what's best. But this isn't her summer to play matchmaker."

"I thought you said this was supposed to be a fun summer for her," Peeta says innocently. "What if she has fun seeing you actually let go and enjoy yourself around a guy?"

I'm not really sure how to respond to this, so I don't. Instead I wiggle past him on the platform, a span of space only wide enough for two people. I expect him to make a move to stop me, but he doesn't and I'm relieved. Now that I've managed to separate my body from his, my next step should be to distance myself from him as much as physically possible. The further he is from me, the less likely I'll be to walk right back into his arms.

"Come on," I call over my shoulder to him. "They'll be wondering where we are."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Johanna is in my face, her face horrified as her eyes flick back and forth between Peeta and me. "He writes you a song and you're not going to fuck him?"

My eyes are wide in horror as I turn to look at Peeta, terrified to see what his reaction is. I'm relieved to see his eyes are twinkling with laughter as he watches my mortified expression while Johanna continues to ream me out while the rest of our friends look on in astonishment. I try to beg him silently for help, to come to my rescue. But he doesn't, and I know this is his small revenge for not telling our friends about what happened up in the scaffolding over the stage. He'd made no secret of his reluctance at lying to our friends when we'd finally descended the stairs.

"I really don't see how it's any of your business," I say curtly, dropping my eyes to the floor. I'm not a fan of being lectured by Johanna Mason on any day, but the days when she'd dead wrong about it are even worse. My hard are fisted at my side, and I can feel the bite of my fingernails digging into my palms.

"Oh please," Johanna says with a roll of her eyes. "A famous guitar player writes a song for you and all you do is pat him on the head like a good little dog? Typical Everdeen. Have I mentioned how brainless you are?"

"Guys," Peeta says quietly. I think he's coming to my rescue when he says, "I'd rather not talk about this. Please."

This immediately shuts everyone up, all of them at a loss for words. I risk a quick glance in Peeta's direction to see his eyes are downcast now, acting every bit the rejected guy they think he is. I'm rankled by this for a minute, forgetting the secret had been my idea. I don't like the idea that Peeta's getting all they sympathy from this when I'd been the one ambushed without warning.

"Let's just go back to the hotel," Peeta says with a groan. "I just want this night to end."

Everyone shifts nervously as he says this, and I look up to see Gale giving me a quizzical look. I know that Gale will guess my game the moment our eyes meet so I quickly look back down before he has the opportunity. Rory curses, and at first I think he's directed it at me. I let out a loud sigh, and I'm about to ask them to just back the hell off of me when I look up and see Rory isn't looking at me. He's looking behind me. I whip around to see Operate Alive approaching us, spearheaded by the dark-haired girl I'd seen at the festival at the start of the tour.

"Cute stunt," she says in a voice that cuts. "I smell desperation."

"If you do, it's only yours," Gale retorts with a snap. "Following us, ladies?"

"Hardly," the girl says with a sniff. "Snow set this tour up. We just do what we're told."

"Probably trying to prove to you punks how much better the crowds like us." It's one of the boys who says this, the blond one with rippling muscles. Something about him makes my skin crawl, and I'm nearly nauseous for reasons I can't explain. I feel like I've seen this guy from somewhere before, the chill in his eyes sending shivers down my spine that fill me with déjà vu. He turns to Prim and asks, "Find another group of guys to buy drinks for you and your friends?"

Prim's eyes are wide as she asks quietly, "What are you talking about?"

I'm shocked when I realize where I know this guy from. I rack my brain for a name but only the one I'd made up that night comes to mind: Douche-Guy. He'd been at the club the night we'd met up with Gale's band for the first time. He'd tried to hit on me first, then Prim. Prim had unintentionally gotten him to pay for our drinks, after which Johanna had stomped in and pulled us away.

"You were at the club that night," I say in a horrified whisper. "You bought our drinks."

Douche-Guy gives me a wink as he says, "I'll be collecting on that too. I'm sure you'll find a way to pay me back somehow."

"You were in Panem?" Finnick asks with a smirk. "You guys are stalking us, aren't you?"

"Don't think you're so cute, Odair," the blonde girl says as she steps up and stabs Finnick in the chest with a perfectly manicured nail. "A few years from now you'll be mopping the floors at our shows. Snow's already said he's only keeping on one of us after this summer. And it's not going to be Misery's Fortune."

Johanna is at Finnick's side immediately, slapping away the blonde's hand. "Please," she says with an eye roll. "You guys look like a bunch of sullen teenagers, and you sound even worse. No decent record company would take more than a half-second's look at you before kicking you out of the building."

The dark-haired girl gives a cold laugh and says, "We'll see. Snow set us up at a few more of the venues on your tour. We'll know at the end of the summer who gets to stay and who has to go."

"You guys won't make it to the end of summer," Rory says with a laugh. "Not when Snow sees how well our tour's going."

The blonde rolls her eyes and turns to walk away from us, the others following suit. "We'll see who makes it to the end of the summer, losers."

And just as they're reaching the edge of earshot, the dark-haired girl turns around and calls, "And oh, Lover Boy? Good work with the song." Her smile is patronizing as she stares Peeta down. "I can tell it really wooed her."

Peeta's cheeks turn a brilliant shade of red, and Johanna says something nasty in reply, waving a middle finger at the departing group. Finnick laughs and shakes his head, surprising me when he reaches out and takes the hand she'd been waving at the group to give it a small kiss. Johanna is startled, staring at him as he lowers her hand from his lips but doesn't relinquish it.

"Have I ever told you that you really are something?" he asks with a twinkle in his eyes.

I'm shocked when Johanna blushes, and I cringe in anticipation of her saying something ridiculous and girly. But she surprises me again when she says, "I've been told that before," in her most Johanna-like way.

"Come on," Peeta says with a sigh, head low as he turns toward the doors leading outside. "Let's just go."

To say the ride back to the hotel is awkward is the understatement of the year. I'm physically exhausted by the emotional strain of ignoring the blatant stares of our fellow limo riders amidst the sexual pull I feel to Peeta. The feel of his tongue ring against my lips still plays across them like a ghost, haunting me the whole ride back. I'm relieved when we pull up to the hotel, and I'm the first one to bolt from the limo, rushing ahead of everyone to the lobby. Claiming an overabundance of energy, I escape from the group by taking the stairs rather than hopping on the elevator with them.

I stop once or twice on the way to compose myself. Not from physical exertion but from emotional trauma. I feel destroyed internally, laid bare at Peeta's feet. I manage to hold myself together for the majority of the climb, but I still have to take those breaks to pull back all the pieces of me. I don't do feelings with guys. Every pseudo-relationship I've ever had with a guy has been purely about physical needs, not emotional bonding. But something different started with Peeta tonight that's very different from every other kiss I've shared with anyone. I pray that this climb will have been long enough, that I won't encounter anyone when I reach our floor. And I'm lucky. By the time I trek up the thirteen flights of stairs, the boys are already in their separate room. I'm overcome with relief when I open our suite's door and see the door separating our suite from theirs is shut.

The door to the bedroom is too and I almost go inside, then think better of it. Sighing, I collapse on the couch, unwilling to face Johanna, Madge or Prim again just now. I seriously contemplate just sleeping out here, stripping down to my underwear and snoozing on the couch until I'm sure everyone's asleep. I know I'll still have to face them in the morning, but I just don't think I can handle it tonight in addition to everything else that's happened.

It hits me as I'm shrugging out of my jacket. I actually kissed Peeta tonight. Peeta wrote a song for me, and had all of the guys learn it so they could play it for me. He taught Finnick the words, told Finnick to make that announcement. It had been probably the most corny and romantic thing I'd ever witnessed in real life. And normally it would have just made me nauseous with disdain. But coming from Peeta, it was warm and sweet and completely something to be expected. And I'd not only avoided becoming nauseous, but I'd actually caved to it. And now that I know how his lips feel, how his tongue tastes, I can't stop thinking about it. I know I was right to put a gag-order on what transpired up in that scaffolding, but a part of me knows it's only going to make this tour more difficult.

I'm just slipping off my heels when the bedroom door opens and discharges Prim. I groan and lay back on the couch, throwing an arm over my eyes. I want to talk to Prim about this less than I do Johanna or Madge. I know she's going to question me with those wide blue eyes that don't miss a thing. She's going to find out what happened, and I don't want that. Not yet, at least.

"You don't have to sleep out here," Prim says softly. She's holding a pair of my pajamas in her hands and thrusts them out at me. I snatch them out of her hands, refusing to meet her eyes, and she says, "Madge and I made Johanna promise to leave you alone about it."

I roll my eyes as I stand up and wiggle out of the hot-shorts then quickly pull up the pajama bottoms, a set of red and gold flannel shorts. I turn my back to Prim and pull off the corset top then hastily pull on the red camisole she'd also given me. When I spin back around, Prim is giving me a quizzical look, her head tilted to the side in a way that would be comical if I wasn't so annoyed with all of them.

"Since when has Johanna ever kept a promise?" I ask, crossing my arms as I shake my head dejectedly. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

"We just don't understand," Prim says softly. "I know you. I've seen how you look at Peeta. I know you're interested. So why won't you just give in to it?"

I sigh and fall back on the couch, putting my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. "It's not so simple, Prim. And this trip is about you having fun, not me hooking up with some guy."

Prim lets out a twinkle of a laugh and says, "He's not some guy, Katniss. He's Peeta Mellark, the guy who adored you all through high school." She pauses for a minute contemplatively, then says, "And don't worry about me. It would make me happy to see you with Peeta, to see you happy."

"I'm not abandoning you to be alone on this trip," I groan through muffled fingers. Prim has a way of making everything seem like it makes sense in her own little world.

Prim's silent for a minute. Then mutters, "You're not going to be abandoning me, Katniss. I won't be alone. Rory is...nice. He'll keep me company."

This catches me completely off-guard. My head shoots up from my hands, and I stare down my sister, who is suddenly having a very hard time looking at me. "Rory?" I ask incredulously. "When did that happen?"

Prim rolls her eyes and shakes her head at me. "Everyone always said you were the least observant person in Twelve. But I didn't really think you were that bad."

I think back to holidays with the Hawthorne family; Prim and Rory always stuck together when Gale and I would disappear into our own world together. I'd always thought she'd hated holidays with them, hated being stuck with the second oldest Hawthorne as her only companion on those days. I'd never considered that she'd actually started to enjoy the company.

Groaning, I throw my head back and run my hands down my cheeks in exasperation. "It doesn't change anything, Prim."

I expect her to argue with me, to demand an explanation from me or something. But she doesn't. Instead I lift my head and find her walking toward the bedroom door, turning back to look at me as she says, "Are you coming to bed or not?"

Shaking my head I say, "No, I'm going to just sleep out here tonight."

"Suit yourself," she says in a clipped tone I've rarely ever heard her use and never has it been direct at me. "Sweet dreams."

Huffing in exasperation, I repeat, "Sweet dreams."

And just as Prim is closing the door behind her she turns around, head peeking from behind the door, and says, "Love isn't going to break you, Katniss. You're not mom." And then she closes the bedroom door without another word.

I sigh, falling back on the couch and saying to the closed door, "Sometimes, I'm not so sure I'm not."

I groan when the sharp trill of an alarm pierces my sleepy haze. A quick glance at the clock on the room's cable box tells me it's still only five a.m, too early for an alarm to be going off. I can't remember the exact time I'd set my phone to go off, but I'm sure it wasn't five-fucking-a.m. I fumble over my head, fingers searching for the cool, smooth surface of my phone. It takes me a few seconds to find it, and my the time I do, it's stopping its sounding of the alarm. Groaning, I tuck it under my pillow with my arm and flop my face back down, fully intending to go back to sleep.

That is, until the alarm starts sounding again.

Swearing in a whisper, I yank the phone back out from under my pillow and force myself to stare at the screen, determined to figure out why the infernal device is going off at all. The message on the screen surprises me.

Call from...Peeta Mellark.

I'm instantly wide awake, shooting upright on the couch. The blanket falls from my shoulders as I stare at the phone, still not quite comprehending what the screen says. I momentarily regret exchanging numbers with him and the rest of the boys one night in the event we ever got separated. I'd never anticipated him torturing me with an early morning wake-up call. Which brings me to my next thought. Why would Peeta being calling me so damn early?

I seriously think about not answering. It would be best to not answer. Surely someone else has heard the phone going off, will be listening to hear what's going on. But somehow my finger is sliding horizontally across the screen and I'm lifting the phone to my face.

"Hello?" I ask in a hushed tone.

"Hey, Katniss," Peeta says softly. It's not quite a whisper to match mine, but he's speaking in low, even tones. "Did I wake you?"

"Uh," I say, running a hand over my disheveled braid subconsciously. "Kind of. Why are you up?"

Peeta's answering chuckle is low and sultry, even through the phone. "Sorry, baker's son. Early rising is a habit learned early in the Mellark house." He's quiet for a second then says, "Can you come to the door?"

My head nearly falls off my shoulders as I whip around to stare at the door to our hotel room.

"Yeah," Peeta says in response to my sharp intake of breath. "Surprise..."

"Just..." I mumble, fumbling around for the shirt I'd discarded as I'd fallen asleep, too hot in the summer heat. "Just a second."

"No rush," he mumbles, and the line goes abruptly dead.

I find the shirt in the pile of blankets at the end of the couch and quickly yank it over my head, fighting back a yelp as it pulls my hair. Remembering the horrid state of my braid, I quickly redo it as I mutter to myself about sleep and people who interrupt it. All in all, it's a good three minutes after Peeta hung up that I manage to stumble to the door and yank it open.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss in low tones. "I thought we agreed-"

"Hey," Peeta says, bringing his hands up in defense, "I'm not breaking any rules. I haven't told anyone. And I doubt anyone else is going to be awake for a long time."

"Yes, Peeta," I growl, "that's because we got in at three. Meaning we've all only been asleep for two hours."

Peeta gives a nonchalant shrug as he says, "I haven't sle

pt at all if it's any consolation."

It's not, and he seems to know it.

"Just," he grumbles, "Just go change into something...not that," he says, gesturing at my pajamas. "I'll wait here."

"You certainly will not!" I exclaim in horror. "Someone could see you."

"Then let me in," he states, trying to step past me without a care at all, as if he's strolling into something as ordinary as a grocery store.

"No!" I yelp, pushing him back. "Just...wait out here."

"Fine," he says, taking advantage of the nearness of our bodies to lean down and brush his nose over mine. "But don't make me wait."

I groan but don't respond, stepping back with a pathetic glare and shutting the door in his face.

I scurry to the bedroom, careful not to wake the others. I use the flashlight of my phone to locate a simple pair of jeans and a Misery's Business t-shirt from my luggage. I hastily pull them on after discarding my pajamas, and I'm pleased to think I've managed all of this without waking anyone. But just as I'm picking my phone back up from where I'd left it on top of the dresser that I hear movement on one of the beds.

Prim.

"Katniss," she mumbles, rubbing her eyes to look up at me. "What are you doing?"

"I, uh," I say, fumbling for words as I shove my phone in my pocket and snag one of the room keys from the discarded pairs of pants on the ground. "I...can't sleep. Too much to think about."

"Peeta?" she asks softly, rising to sit upright.

"A lot of things," I say with a sigh. "I'm going on a walk. Go back to sleep."

"Don't go far," she says with a yawn. "I don't want to have to send Peeta after you."

If only she knew.

"Apparently you aren't the only one who likes to wake up so early," I say around a bite of bagel. "That was way more people than I'd expected to see up this early."

"Yeah," says Peeta, wiping a bit of cream cheese away from the corner of his mouth. "People are early risers here."

'Here' is the Garden of the Gods Lodge in Colorado Springs. The boys had performed in Denver last night, but they'd booked our reservations here instead of back in Denver. It was an hour and half drive, but the boys had insisted on taking a few days to explore the park before moving on to the next city. The Lodge is named for the national landmark "Garden of the Gods" that it's in. It's supposed to be on the most beautiful places in the country, but I hadn't been able to see much of it in the dark of night when we'd arrived. The Lodge itself is extravagant, like most of the places we've stayed at, but it manages to maintain a homey feel.

"I can't imagine what would justify waking up this early to anyone," I mutter, taking a sip of the dark coffee Peeta had snagged for me as we'd walked through the small dining area the staff had set up. It wasn't anything fancy right now, just cereal and bagels, but Peeta promised there'd be more in an hour or two when the rest of the hotel guests started to make their way down.

"They wake up this early for the same reason we did," Peeta says with a mischievous smile.

I crinkle up the napkin in my head anxiously as I ask, "What are we up so early for?"

Peeta's smile widens as he steps in front of me and pauses, effectively stopping me in my tracks.

"I'll show you," he says, "but you have to make me a promise."

"What's that?" I ask skeptically, not sure I'm going to like where this is going.

He reaches over and takes the empty Styrofoam cup out of my hand along with the napkin, stuffing the napkin inside the cup and tossing them into the trashcan a few feet away. It falls in successfully, and Peeta turns to give me a triumphant smile saying, "Pretty good shot, huh?"

"What am I promising?" I push, staring down his twinkling eyes.

"You have to keep your eyes closed until I say you can open them."

"No," I say flatly, fisting my hands at my sides. "No way."

"Hey," he says, reaching and taking my hands in his. "Please just...just trust me, okay?"

His eyes are wide and pleading and I find myself, without thinking, replying, "Fine."

Peeta's genuine smile is so brilliant I can't decide if it's irritating or soothing. "Great," he says, squeezing my hands in his. Then he steps to the side to clear the path in front of me, releasing my left hand but holding my right firmly in his hand.

"Close your eyes," he demands.

I obey, my spine stiffening automatically with nerves. I think to open my eyes right back up, unnerved by the loss of sight. But then Peeta's breath is on my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"No peeking," he whispers deliciously, the words sending heat across my neck and morphing into a shudder as it reaches the rest of my body. He presses a chaste kiss to the skin just below my ear, and I let out an involuntary gasp. I think to say something, but my tongue is so tied I can't manage to get anything out. And then Peeta's got me by the hand and he's pulling me toward wherever it is he's planning to take me.

He drags me along behind him for a good ten minutes, not speaking a word the whole time. I'm starting to wonder if this is all a big joke, his idea of revenge for embarrassing him in front of our friends last night. But then I hear the hiss of a door, and I can feel the fresh air as it hits my body, the smell of early morning air soothing to my lungs. It's a different sort of air than what I'd find back home in my woods, but it's clean and wonderful.

"We're just going around this corner," Peeta says, his hand firm around mine while his voice is gentle and soothing. He pulls me around the corner and we walk for a few more paces before he pulls me up to a stop.

"Here," he says, his voice lilting with satisfaction. "This is perfect."

"Perfect for what?" I ask. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Just a second," Peeta says and I can tell by the sound of his voice that he's stepped away from me. "Okay. Now."

I'm nearly blinded when I first open my eyes, the gentle rays of the sunrise before me shattering my sight for a moment. But then I adjust to the light, and I'm greeted by one of the most breathtaking sunrises I've ever seen. The mountains on the skyline are one long, continuous line against the rays of the sun. The rocks here are red in color, a sharp contrast to the grays and browns from back home in Panem. The way the red of the rising sun shines off of them makes them look like massive hot embers welded into the landscape.

"Pretty amazing, huh?" Peeta asks with a smile. "This is why people around here wake up so early. Not many things in life can beat a sunrise here."

"It's amazing," I breathe, my heart lifting as I see him smiling at me.

"You think that's good?" he asks with a smile. "Turn around."

I spin on my heels to look at the landscape that had previously been behind me and I'm blown away for the second time today. Directly in front of us is a cluster of the red rock formations, the sun on them setting them ablaze. And straight between the two largest clusters I can see Pike's Peak, regal and glowing in the morning sun. It looks like something that belongs on a postcard, not something that should ever exist in real life and certainly not something I'd ever imagined seeing for myself.

"Yeah," Peeta says, stepping up to stand behind me. "I prefer this view to actually looking at the sunrise straight-on. The sun lights things up that you'd never see during any other time of the day.

"Peeta," I gasp, "this is incredible."

"I thought you'd like it." Peeta bends down and places a kiss on the skin of my shoulder just where the fabric of my t-shirt starts. It sends a delicious crawl of heat through me, and suddenly the view isn't the most amazing thing that's happened to me so far today.

Peeta spends a few minutes pointing out the different rock formations in front of us that make up the Garden of the Gods. The biggest one in front of us is called the Cathedral, a sprawling line of red rock. The peaks of the rocks are perfectly fit with the name, looking like the spires of a church. He points out a few other formations, but only pieces of them are visible. He tells me they've planned out a segway tour for us to take through the whole park to see everything. He chuckles along with me at the mention of the segways, but promises they're the only way to really experience the Garden.

Peeta moves to stand in front of me, his smile suddenly shy as he looks me over. "Worth the early morning?"

"Definitely," I say with a smile, genuinely excited for the first time in as long as I can remember. "It's like something out of a story. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"You don't look so bad yourself," he says with a small frown. "With the sun shining at your back like that, you look like you're on fire."

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. "You don't look so bad yourself, with the sun shining on you like that. You look perfect in this lighting," I say teasingly.

"No," Peeta says, taking a step closer so we're nearly chest to chest. "You look like some kind of otherworldly creature. Like you'll burn me if I touch you."

I look away, unable to meet his eyes not as he says it. "You probably will get hurt if you stay with me," I say softly.

Peeta's fingers are suddenly at my cheek, drawing my attention back to him. His eyes are so pale in the morning sun, washed out like my favorite pair of blue-jeans. They're warm and soft as he looks at me, his other hand reaching for mine.

"I think I'll take that risk," he says softly, bending his face toward mine. His nose brushes my nose for the second time today, and I wonder if he's realized the chills it sends down my spine.

And then his lips meet mine unexpectedly.

It shouldn't have be so unexpected that he kisses me. And maybe it isn't the fact he kisses me that catches me off guard. Maybe it's just my nearly immediate response to the feel of his lips on mine, as if we've done this a thousand time before in a hundred different lifetimes. When his lips move one way, my lips seem to instinctually move in just the right way to be complementary. And when his tongue brushes over my lips, I open part them without thinking, his tongue teasing and tasting in all the right ways that make me shiver. My hands are fisted on him, one at his chest in his shirt and the other in his hair, running my fingers over and over through the silk of his hair. I catch accidentally at the hairs at the back of his neck, giving them a small pull. He groans unexpectedly and pulls me closer, our bodies flush together as his hands hold me to him at my waist and neck. His own hand slides up and into my hair, catching in the braid.

He tears his lips from mine and kisses his way across my cheeks to my neck, leaving a searing path in their wake. His hand moves from the hair at my neck and up to the base of my braid, following it down all the way to the tail. As he presses a kiss to the hollow of my neck, he grabs a hold of a part of the hair tie and pulls it out, loosening my braid.

I start to protest but his lips are suddenly sealed over mine, swallowing my words. And as our lips reunite, his fingers work to pull my braid apart until my hair falls free, unbound. I feel it all fall behind my neck now, tickling by back over my shirt.

"I like your hair better this way," Peeta says between breaths. "Loose, so I can put my fingers through it."

I sigh and press my lips more firmly to his, uncharacteristically unbothered by this meddling with my hair. It feels surprisingly freeing to have my hair be loose and in his fingers, to feel the small tug of my hair between them. It shoots little lines of heat straight to my core, catching me off guard by fully igniting the pressure I can feel building in my abdomen.

"Everyone will be awake soon," I mutter between kisses.

Peeta hums in agreement, but he's slow to pull away. When he finally does it's to murmur, "Do you really think they'll be up before noon?"

I let out a low laugh that's more throaty and deep than I'd anticipated it would be. "That's true, but I don't want to take any chances. And," I add as sternly as I can, "I'd like to get a little sleep."

"Okay," Peeta says regretfully, planting one last sweet kiss to my lips. "We'll go back up. But this would be a lot easier if we just told people and didn't have to sneak around."

I shake my head, annoyance bubbling. And I'm even more irritated that he's managed to damage my blissful mood. "I told you. I'm not ready to be your...well, whatever this is. See? We can't even define this."

"We'll figure it out with time," Peeta says, pulling me in close for a hug. "It'd also be a lot easier to figure out if we didn't have to pretend like you completely embarrassed me last night."

"We don't have to say that," I say dejectedly. "We could just say we agreed to be friends and let things progress on their own."

"Yeah," Peeta groans. "Because that totally doesn't sound like a rejection."

"Well," I say teasingly. "Maybe you were a blubbering fool up in the scaffolding last night. Maybe you choked."

He gives me a skeptical look and I know we're both thinking the same thing: Peeta Mellark doesn't get tongue-tied.

"Whatever you say, Fire-Girl," he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "As long as I get moments like this, I don't care if anyone else knows or not."

"I'm glad," I say, pulling away. I know if I don't start to extract myself from this situation soon I'm going to get sucked back into those eyes and end up lip-locked again in a matter of minutes. "Because I really don't do relationships."

"We'll just see how everything goes, I guess," Peeta says. He almost sounds a little put-off again and I have to fight a groan.

"It's not a never," I say softly. "Just a 'not now' sort of thing."

"Because of Prim?" he asks in a low, smooth voice.

"Because of a lot of things," I sigh. I reach out and give his hand a quick squeeze, then promptly let it go.

"Alright," Peeta says in a tone that I know means he's giving up for now.

He starts heading back to a pair of sliding glass doors, which are now expelling large amounts of people. They all stare at me curiously, and I wonder suddenly if Peeta reserved this spot for a while so he and I could have it to ourselves. It's both sweet and annoying, and I shoot him an exasperated look which he returns with a simple shrug.

"Come on," he says, gesturing at the doors leading back into the lodge. "Let's get you back in bed before you scratch my face off."

I tilt my head to the side, confused. It still surprises me from time to time when he picks up on stuff like this. I try to remember if I've mentioned my desperate love for sleep before. I think I probably have, it surprises me how much he remembers about what I say.

"I saw you after Gale dragged you to all those parties when you visited." he says as he chuckles. "A sleepy Katniss is a dangerous Katniss."

"You haven't seen anything yet," I mutter under my breath.

Peeta lets out a bark of a laugh and reaches for my hand, pulling me along behind him back into the Lodge. "Whatever you say, Fire-Girl. I'm just along for the ride."

Hey guys! I know this isn't really that early of an update since it's only a day early, but I figured you'd appreciate it all the same :)

I can say for certain the next update will not come until Friday. I have to get caught up on some betaing for three people and, if I'm being honest, I haven't even gotten Chapter 9 to Court-my beta-yet. Sorry to everyone who will be awaiting the update, but I promise it will come no later than Friday the 9th!

In addition to this story I will be reposted my previous fic "Kindled Ember" on August 15th for the Fifteen Days to Finish Your Fic challege on THG Abandoned Fic page on Tumblr. Keep an eye out for it and any encouragements would be welcome, it's going to be a race to the finish line! If you have your own abandoned fic and you want to participate in the challenge sign up on Tumblr at THG Abandoned Fic's page.

Follow me on tumblr for updates and excepts from coming chapters. Also, just come talk to me, yo. I'd love to hear from all of you and I'm here to talk about everything and anything. I'll also have a few drabbles that will be going up as I finish them. You can find me over there as simplyabbeycat.

Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and I'll respond to each and every one of them! (If you're a guest, see my response to your review on my tumblr "anon answers and reviews" page!)