The boy with the bread, the boy who saved my life; the only person who can save me now. I hold on to him as if I was holding to life itself, and in those few seconds, I see clearly what I've been denying to myself. I don't want to feel sad anymore, I don't want to cry or think about the past. I want to be right here, right now, with him. I want to make new memories of us, because beyond wanting him or giving in to the fire that burns me inside; there is a need to move on, to heal. Suddenly, as s if the answer had always been there, I know what I have to do for me, for both if us.

I feel overwhelmed, scared. It's easier to run away than to face what lies ahead, but I close my eyes and vow to be strong. I owe this much to Peeta, I owe him the truth. I put my hands at each side of his face and look into his eyes. He puts his hands on my wrists, and I can see he is concerned. I wonder how my face looks right now. Can he see what I'm feeling? Does he know that I rather run away and tell him how I feel?

"What's wrong Katniss? Talk to me, please" He says almost in a whisper. He is worried about me.

This frustrates me. "Why can't I just let go?" I think as I close my eyes, and press my forehead against his, trying to clear my head.

"Katniss?" He says my name, and I wonder if I'm scaring him. Everything I do or say seems to have the opposite effect on him.

"Peeta" I say his name, but my voice breaks and it makes things worse. "Katniss please don't cry. Please." He says, taking my face in his hands.

I look at him again, into the same eyes that looked into mine when he said he loved me, and I tell myself I have nothing to fear. I shut down the panic inside me, and lean forward to kiss him. He backs away. I can see his body tense as his hands hold my wrists again. He's not expecting this, and I try not to feel hurt by his reaction. He studies my face, probably looking for something that might explain my actions.

I remember his words "Is there is something I should know? Something you want me to know? If there is, then you'll have to tell me." I close my eyes and swallow hard. I have to speak.

I move closer, his hands still holding my wrists, but he looks at them, as if he had forgotten he was holding them and lets me go. I take his face in my hands once more and kiss him lightly on the lips. I move my body closer to his, trying not to scare him away.

"Katniss…what are you doing? Why are you doing this?" He says. I can tell he is confused.

I kiss him again, this time harder, less afraid. I can feel my courage growing. This time he responds to my kiss, and I feel his body relax. I move on top of him, straddling, kissing him hard; I am in control. His arms circle my waist and he pulls me closer.

He rests his head on my breasts and asks once more "Why are you doing this?" I sense sadness in his voice, and maybe pain. I can't stand the thought of hurting Peeta, and I'm scared again. I put my arms around his neck, holding him tight. I kiss his hair, his neck; moving slowly to his cheeks, making my way to his lips.

"Can't you see? I say as I kiss him. I take his hand and put it over my heart.

"Can you feel this?" I press his hand against my chest, desperately wanting him to feel my heartbeat, fast, my heart racing as if it couldn't take this anymore.

"Can you feel this Peeta? This is you. This is all you." I whisper in his ear, my hand still over his, asking myself if he understands what I'm trying to say.

"I need you so much." My voice breaks again, and I feel like I'm going to burst into tears. "Why can't I just say it?" I scream inside my head. I know this is not what he wants to hear. I know I should say so much more, that I feel so much more, but that's all I can manage to say.

"I…" The word never gets out. Peeta's lips are on mine. He pulls me closer, his lips move to my neck, the hollow of my throat and his hands circle my waist. I run my hands through his hair; I can feel my skin burning where our bodies touch; we are so close...

I move my hands down his back and dig my nails in. He moans softly, and my body trembles at the sound. His mouth moves over mine. He bites my bottom lip, and I moan at the pain. His breathing is ragged, his kisses are desperate, hungry; and I realize he is holding on to life, too.

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