Hey guys! Soooo, since the last Chapter was kind of short, I decided to update a little sooner with Chapter 4 from Peeta's POV. It's rainy outside and I'm stuck in the house being sick, so I was in the mood to write. I really wanted to experiment with how Peeta would feel if Katniss finally felt the same way about him after all this time, and so this was really interesting to write from his perspective. I hope you guys like it, and be sure to let me know if you want more from Peeta's POV in the future! I have lots of ideas for this story, but feel free to give me any feedback or comments you might haveJ Also, thanks to all the people who have reviewed! You make my day so much better. So, without further ado, Chapter 4 from Peeta's POV.

Fire, that's all I feel. All I've ever felt.

These past three years, with the Games and the Revolution and everything that's happened in between, fire has always been everywhere: in the features and memories of Katniss as we endured the hardships of the games, in my cell as I watched my memories sizzle with tainted fire away to nothing, and in the revolution as countless people died, fire swallowing them up whole. I guess most people would call it a sort of symbol of the rebellion, like the mockingjay bird, but for me, fire reminds me mostly of her.

I feel the fire right now. It feels so good, her lips against mine, so warm and soft and sweet. Her hair, matted with sleep, still feels silky as it brushes my face and drapes over my shoulders. I am on fire, but it takes me only a second to realize that I shouldn't be greeting this fire, or welcoming it. I should be stopping it.

My eyes are already wide open in shock, and they've stayed that way ever since Katniss, just a few seconds ago, leaned in to kiss me. Kiss me. Just the thought has my heart racing. I muster up all the strength I can and push her back just a little, her lips still breathing life into mine just an inch away. I can feel her fragile hands on my shoulders, gripping them tight. I shudder, remembering that I should be fair to her and let her know that she doesn't have to pretend for me. And even if she isn't pretending, she doesn't need this. I can comfort her, be there for her, and protect her, of course, but I just can't start kissing her every time she needs me. I have to learn how to be friends with his girl who has meant more to me over the course of my life than anyone else I've known. The sad part is that it's not for my own sake; it's for hers. Of course I would love to wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her silky lips, bury my face in her hair. But it doesn't feel right. Not when she's simply going along with it to appease her own mind and give me what I want. I won't make her settle for me. Not ever.

All this rushes through my mind within a few seconds, and when I look up to meet Katniss's eyes, they are confused, maybe even a little hurt.

I know I need to tell her what I'm feeling. But I'm suddenly so tired and muddled and confused that I don't even know where to begin. "Katniss… what are you-?" I lose my train of thought, staring into her startling, gray eyes. They look like storm clouds, fierce yet also vulnerable, moving with that delicate sense of purpose. I can see her face change, her eyes become determined. I've seen this look all too many times, and I steel myself for whatever she is about to say. She very rarely says exactly what's on her mind just because she's never really liked talking to people, which is more than fine with me. What she does say… it's always perfect somehow.

In the dark, I wait for her to begin. As the silence stretches on, her cheeks begin to burn with a rosy pink color and I desperately wonder what she's thinking. Maybe she will do the job for me and finally force the both of us to let go of whatever this relationship we have is. Maybe she will be the one to steer us gently yet solidly back into that easy, steady direction of friendship. Maybe she will finally let me know for sure that she just can't ever love me back the way I've always loved her. After all, I know that's what I should want. For her to move on, for me to move on, for us to be happy without all the complications. But the thought of losing the way I feel about her is almost unimaginable after everything we've been through. As the silence stretches on, we sit there, staring into each other's eyes. Mine probably reflecting hers, pools of fear and confusion. And I think mine probably still show a little bit of the shock I'm still feeling that Katniss was the one to lean in to kiss me. That's where the heart of this confusion lies.

We've kissed so many times on camera, but the only kiss I've ever felt I was actually kissing her, and not the tribute of the Capitol, was on the beach in the Quell. Even if the whole world was watching, I knew. And I've spent a great deal of nights ever since then wondering why that one was different. Maybe because we had finally both realized we were prepared to die for each other, or maybe simply because we thought we would never see each other again. It doesn't matter anyway. When I think about that night, it only confuses me. Just like I'm confused right now. Every single time Katniss has kissed me, without the Capitol's cameras recording every moment, I don't understand. She kissed me in the tunnel as we were fighting off those lizards, but that one wasn't hard to grasp. She kissed me so that we would all stay alive and because she had to bring me back. And all those nights on the train, nothing ever happened between us, except for the fact that we held each other's nightmares at bay. Tonight is the first kiss I've gotten from Katniss that I don't understand at all, besides that one the night before the Quell ended. I'm not sure what she's wanted all along. My friendship obviously, but with her, friendship has never seemed to be enough. After everything that's happened with the Games and the war, I'm not sure I can let her go so easily.

We continue to stare at each other, her eyes intensely boring into mine. Finally, I can't take it any longer and I say the first thoughts on my mind. "I…. don't understand."

That's the understatement of the century.

Her forehead creases, and I can tell she's concentrating hard. "What do you mean?" she asks softly.

Again, I say the first thing that comes to mind. I hadn't thought of it before, but now that I'm saying it, it seems right. "You don't want this, Katniss," I say simply, no hint of accusation or hurt in my tone. I realize the truth of my words as I say them. She wants me to be there for her when she's confused or lonely, and I don't blame her for it. If I could, I would let her use me for the rest of her life as a source of comfort, but that wouldn't be fair to either of us. I know she's confused, and that's probably why in the mess of all this, she eventually kissed me. And I'd be lying to say it didn't hurt. Of course it stung, recognizing the rejection and loss of the girl I'd loved for so long. But in the long run, I shouldn't be hurt, right? I always saw this coming.

It still doesn't stop that burning fire of pain from rising up in me. But after all this time, I'm pretty good at masking any signs of pain.

When I focus my thoughts on her again after I've composed myself, her face startles me. It's angry but also so sad in a way that makes me want to wrap my arms around her. She beats me there though, sliding her arms around my neck and breathing heavily. I close my eyes, feeling her warm body against mine. When the time comes, I'm not sure how I will let her go.

Suddenly, I am jolted back in time to that day in the rain, when I threw Katniss that bread. I made sure my mother didn't see me, but my brothers, who had been up in our room, witnessed everything, which I hadn't realized until later that day when I walked upstairs to clean up and saw them, perched on my bed, ready to make fun of me for giving our bread to the Seam girl.

"Katniss Everdeen…." Jeb had whistled, throwing his head back and laughing. "Are you an idiot? I'm surprised you didn't run out into the rain and kiss her, like some dramatic movie from the Capitol!"

I had been too embarrassed to say anything, but my other brother Ky, who had always been my favorite, just chuckled. "Man, Peeta, what're we gonna do with you?"

Jeb then interrupted, still cackling. "Don't worry, Ky. He'll get over her someday. And when he does, I'm already calling dibs on giving him hell for it."

Now, in Katniss's dark bedroom in the Victor's Village, that conversation seems a million miles away, a thousand days old. For a moment, my heart aches for my brothers, my father, even my cold-hearted mother. Now, Jeb's joke about letting Katniss go seems to be becoming an unwelcome reality for me. But even if I do eventually let go of what I feel for Katniss someday, he won't be there to laugh at me with his "I told you so". And strangely, after all those years of bickering with him, I wish he would be.

I'm just about to tell Katniss the same thing I repeated back when I returned. 'Let's be friends'. But before I have the chance to say so, she has her lips pressed to my ear, and now I'm distracted.

"Please, Peeta," she begs, and her voice sounds so small and scared that my heart aches for her. "Look at me."

"Katniss…" my voice sounds hoarse, "I—you don't have to do this."

"Just let me talk, please," she pleads, interrupting my thought process. I nod my head, preparing myself for whatever she has to say. I know I can handle it. Her storm cloud eyes wear a look of vulnerability that I've never seen before, and suddenly she's talking so fast, I have to strain to catch all of it.

"I know I've misled you, Peeta," she begins. "I know I've hurt you. I rejected you that day on the train and made you and I and everyone else around us believe that I felt nothing. That I used you just to get home to be with my family. I will admit I was so confused in those first Games. I had wanted to come up to you so many times and thank you for throwing that bread, enduring a beating for me, a Seam girl you didn't even know… But I just didn't. You had friends, you were well-liked—I even remember the day Olive Wright decided to tell you that she liked you and you stood there, so polite and understanding when you gently let her down. I knew nothing about you, besides the fact that you went to my school and were the baker's son. After that day in the rain though, I knew you weren't like some of your other friends. You were good. You cared about people, you knew what to say, you just knew somehow…. And you knew that day in the rain, what I needed. You saved my life, Peeta. Even before you did it in a more public way because of the Games, you saved me by giving me that hope. And I remember picking a dandelion the next day, and knowing my family and I were going to make it through. You made eye contact with me, but I never said anything. Until we were being prepped and primed to fight to the death against each other. I still regret that even now, with you here, in my arms. In the Games, I did put somewhat of an act on to keep us alive, but I wanted to be your friend. And in the cave, I wanted you to kiss me again before my head wound started to bleed. Throughout the Victory tour, I was so glad I had you as a friend that I forgot how much I'd hurt you. But when the Quell came around, I knew I cared about you. You were my friend, but I had chosen the rebellion and-" she winces the name, "Gale. But I wasn't stupid. I knew you were prepared to die for me. And I was just as prepared to die for you. Because even though I never told you, I wouldn't have made it on my own. I would have stayed locked up in that arena, miserable. I meant it when I said I needed you on the beach, and I meant it when I kissed you. I believed I was responsible for you getting captured. I still do. And it took me all that time, you being ripped out of my life, for me to finally realize how I really felt about you. Which was that I cared. I cared about you, my boy with the bread who always knew what to say and spoke to crowds for me, comforted me from all my bad dreams, kept me in one piece after almost everything I loved I lost. And it seemed so unfair, because then you were gone, hijacked. You finally saw me as who I was, and that broke me. I realized that I had never deserved you, because someone who didn't love me like you did would think the same things. That I'm a monster. I…. everybody knew but me, Peeta. And I'm sorry—I'm sorry that it took me so long to figure it out." She's out of breath after this speech, breathing heavily and staring at me with such a desperate look of sadness that I feel that fire again, slowly spreading throughout my body to the very tips of my being.

I don't know what to say or think. This speech, the one that actually tells me exactly how she's felt for all this time, is not the one I expected. And now, I'm stunned. I can't move as I sit there, trying to process her words without any luck. I don't know if I understand what she means. But I'm afraid that I might.

I now notice the tears trailing down her cheeks, her hands clumsily wiping them away. I stare at her, feeling helpless. I don't know what she wants from me, but I know what I want, so I tilt her chin up to finally say the words that are on my mind, the words that will let me know what I need to know. 'Do you love me'?

But when I meet her eyes, they are so confused and scared and open that I get the feeling she realizes this is the first time she has ever opened herself up to me so widely. I hesitate, touching her arm with a calloused finger, and when she doesn't flinch, I pull her against me softly, my chin resting on the top of her head. The world moves around us, but it feels as if we are frozen in time. I whisper to her, telling her everything will be all right, that I'm here. Her sobs begin to quiet as the tears soak through my shirt to my skin. They smell like her, a mix of salt and musk.

I just want to say one more thing before I let her go to sleep.

"It's okay, Katniss," I murmur. "I understand. Don't worry about me. I wouldn't be alive without you either. Please," my voice becomes softer now, pleading. "Don't feel like you owe me anything." And I mean this. I don't want her to pity me. I'll survive it, as long as she ends up happy.

She just sits there, conflicting emotions in her eyes. I think it will be better for her if I go home and give her the rest of the night to think in peace. I'm just about to disentangle myself when her hands grasp my shoulders vice-tight.

Her lips are on mine then, and I know I should stop her, but I can't. The first few times I try to argue with her, she won't let me breathe. Finally, I give in and wrap my arms around her waist, burying my face in her hair as her fingers tangle in my hair and our lips move against each other's. I feel a thrill rush through me as she whispers my name, and suddenly I'm on fire. She has never kissed me like this before, and I think of all the times as a child I watched her, wishing I could hold her hand and kiss her. Now, after all this time, it doesn't feel real that I'm suddenly doing exactly that.

Eventually, we have to break away for air, but she keeps her arms wrapped around my neck, her forehead pressed to mine. I kiss it softly, smoothing out the crinkled lines of her forehead with my lips. She relaxes into my touch, and I can't process the fact that she has finally let me in like this. For the past three years, ever since we spoke to each other for the first time on that train, I've loved her. Now, it doesn't seem real that she wants something like this. Nothing is shiny about this moment, but I'm abruptly terrified that this is not reality. That at any moment, Katniss will lunge at me and the Capitol's memories will take over. I grip that ledge I've found in my mind tightly, the one that separates reality from the lies, willing myself to not fall over it. Once I've recovered, I simply ask the question, not knowing how I will react to her answer. I'm not sure what she will say. But if she does respond the way I've dreamed about for so long, I'm not sure I will ever be able to hear any words but that one.

"You love me," I whisper, my voice suddenly younger and more vulnerable. "Real or not real?"

"Real," she tells me.

And because of that one word, I know I will be able to survive all the rest.