This chapter is set just after the previous one, it's still written in Peeta's POV.

I follow Haymitch's advice, and don't touch Katniss for a few days. Well, obviously I touch her, but not in a sexual way.

I think I need some time, too. The second night I have a horrible nightmare. I woke up screaming, and Katniss looked genuinely scared when I ran to the bathroom and threw up. She tentatively asked me about my nightmare afterwards, but I couldn't answer, couldn't tell.

There are some nightmares she can just never know about. Never.

I'm afraid she'd never even look at me again if she knew.

After the sleepless night, we take an afternoon nap, snuggling close, kissing lightly. Not hungrily like before, just lovingly and lazily. She massages my back, getting rid of all the tense knots. We fall asleep like that, she's lying behind me, holding me, our fingers intertwined.

When I wake up, I'm not sure if Katniss is already awake or not. She's still lying with her back towards me, I can feel her regular breath on the hand which is holding protectively around her. Her chest is rising and falling, but it's just fast enough to make me wonder if she's really awake, just trying to pretend to be asleep. "Katniss?" I whisper. I can tell that she's awake by how the frequency of her breathing increases almost imperceptibly. "Are you still in pain?"

She stiffens in my arms. I can tell she misunderstood. "No, no, not like that," I quickly assure her. "I'm not going to… I just really want to know. I still feel bad about hurting you.

She turns around now in my arms, lying on my arm. "Honestly?" she asks. I nod. "Okay… I'm much better. But I don't think I'm… ready for a repeat… performance quite yet." She blushes.

I kiss her forehead. "I didn't mean that, Katniss, I really didn't… I just worry about you." I can tell she doesn't like me worrying about her. But how can I not worry? The more I learn to know Katniss, the more intensely I grow to love her, the more I worry. In the arena, I was worried about her life, every single second of every single day. But now it's almost even worse. There isn't anyone around who's planning to break her neck or slit her stomach open at every opportunity – at least not that we know of – but the thought of losing her scares me more than I can ever tell her, and it's a common ingredient in my many nightmares. I'm afraid of scaring her away, that our combined burden of trauma will prove too much for her to handle.

Not that I could blame her.

"You don't have to worry about me," she answers, predictably. Katniss is more predictable than she is probably aware of herself. I know Haymitch takes advantage of that, and I guess I do, too. "I'm a big girl…"

I silence her with a kiss. "… woman now," I grin wickedly, and she smiles back.

"Okay… Woman." The word doesn't seem to come naturally from her lips quite yet. "Okay, so I'm a… big woman now, and you don't need to worry about me." She pauses, and wrinkles her nose. "That makes me sound fat, doesn't it?"

I am absolutely not stupid enough to answer that question. Not that her slender body, which has known so much hunger, could ever be called fat anyway.

"It makes you sound like you're my woman," I whisper huskily in her ear, and I'm unable to stop my body from pressing my arousal into her hip. She can't possibly miss it. She reaches between us, stroking my length through my jeans.

"I like the sound of that… Your woman," she whispers back. "Not the girl on fire…"

I shake my head. No, not the girl on fire. Not the Capitol's invention. Not the Mockingjay, the invention of the rebellion. "No. You're Katniss. All woman, all wonderful. You're just… You."

Katniss opens the button of my jeans and her narrow hand ventures inside. I catch my breath. I could come in ten seconds in my jeans if I allowed myself to. I desperately want her to continue, but force myself to remove her hand.

She looks surprised up at me, a bit hurt. "Why don't you…"

I kiss her on the lips. "Why don't we wait until you feel up to it," I say.

"Yes, but… You can still…"

"I want you to… You know, enjoy it, too. Along with me."

"I'd still enjoy it, just watching you, touching you…"

Damn you, Katniss, if you only knew how much you're tempting me. A man can only take so much. At least a man like me, with a warm and soft and inviting Katniss Everdeen in my bed.

"I still think it would be better if we wait a little while. We have all the time in the world, what's a few days?" My cock does not agree with me, it seems pretty persistent in its demands for a release, right now, but I force my brain to override the smaller head down there.

"I thought that... You would expect it?"

"You mean that... now that we're officially sleeping together, I'd expect you be at my service?" I ask, perhaps my tone is a bit too sarcastic, but I'm hurt she'd think that of me.

She seems to shrink away from me, even thoughs he doesn't move at all. "I didn't mean that, I mean... Perhaps I did... But not with those words. Isn't it... I mean, isn't it what a man expects from a woman?"

I'm starting to seriously question who her source of information on sex and relationships is, because I'd like to tell that person a few things myself. I lift her chin with one finger, forcing her to look into my eyes. "I don't 'expect' anything from you, Katniss. It's not so different from before, is it?" I start kissing her, nearly every word I say is followed by a light kiss. "We've touched each other... Loved each other... Climaxed, together or separately. No expectations, just because we both want to. Right?"

She nods.

"And it's the same now. Even though there is... penetration involved now," I blush as I say the word, "it doesn't change what's between us. You don't have to feel that you owe me something. I just want to sleep with you whenever you're ready, whenever it feels right. We don't have to... do anything... every night. There's no rush."

She nods, and looks relieved.

Her look confirms it - now is not the time. And in that moment, I promise myself to wait until she takes the initiative, all on her own, freely and without fear of pain or feeling that she has to please me.