A/N: Hi guys.

I am not going to waste your time with excuses for why this story has been left for such an atrocious amount of time. All I can do is apologize. There aren't enough "really's" to cover how sorry I am. I am really, really, sorry. I truly am. But I do intend to finish this story. I want to. I have so many ideas for it. Your continuous support and reviews are what have given me hope that I can get back to this story. I only hope you are willing to give Me Katniss, You Peeta another shot.

I am in the process of uploading chapters of this story to my Wattpad and A03 account, so once I have that completely sorted and up to date, I will be trying to get new chapters out on here as well. I am really trying. I love this idea and I don't want to give up on it. I refuse to.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or Tarzan.

Chapter Ten

There is a blissful moment, where I believe that Peeta will allow this to happen. Where everything seems to fall silent and my blood heats up inside my veins and the only thing I can think about is how content I feel. How happy and at home kissing this human feels. Like, yes, this one fits, our mouths were designed to be joined this way. At last.

The allusion is shattered.

Peeta pushes me away again. "Kat, think about what you're doing." I roll my eyes and try to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Silly man doesn't know what's good for him. Peeta is nervous and fumbly, grabbing my wrists and holding them in both his hands. I quirk an eyebrow at him and glance at my hands, asking to be able to speak. Peeta reluctantly lets me go.

"What's the problem?" I question. "I'm nearly finished anyway." I nod at his torso, which is nearly completely open to my eyes. There's literally only one button at the bottom, so his shirt is basically hanging off his body.

"Kat, there's this thing," Peeta bats my hands away from him when I try to get rid of that dastardly final button. "It's called adultery. I don't expect you to know what it is but it's very bad. It's when one person is already married and then . . ." He glances at me with a fixed frown, trying to find the right word to say to me to explain it. ". . . mates with someone else."

"You are not married, you are shackled," I point out. "Want to hear the rules of the jungle?"

"Things are different in the jungle," Peeta quickly answers. "There's . . . rules here. Things we have to abide by to get through life"-

I roll my eyes and rip the last button open really fast so he doesn't have a chance to stop me. I touch his chest with my palm. His skin is warm and even though I am well aware that there are other males in London that are probably taller, stronger, more muscular, nothing makes me more excited than the Peeta. Maybe it's something to do with the fact that he is-and always will be-the first human I met. And in my eyes, he will always be the most perfect male I will ever see.

"Kat." I raise my eyebrows. He's trying to be authorative. "Stop it."

"I'm not doing anything wrong," I say. "We are born into this world naked and we shall leave it the exact same way." I look at my hand, which is still pressed against his chest. "Are you . . . bashful?"

"What?" Peeta scoffs. "No!"

A smile breaks out across my face. "You are bashful," I say. "There is nothing wrong with not wearing these . . . these . . . covers!" I first his top cover in my hand. "I survived just fine with only the tiniest pieces of material."

"Sometimes it's not about survival." I frown in confusion at Peeta's words. What does he mean? Everything is about survival. Peeta tries to take the cover back but I clench it tight in my fist so he can't. Peeta sighs, obviously trying to be patient with me. "Kat, if you don't calm down then you're going to do something really bad. I'm not going to betray Delly. As lovely as you are, Kat-really, you're very nice-I would never inflict pain on someone else."

"The Delly deserves it," I insist to him.

"You don't mean that," says Peeta.

"How do you know that? You know nothing about me and what I mean!" I throw his shirt away behind my head, infuriated with how much he cares about the annoying Delly. Would she be as quick to be as considerate about him? The Peeta detangles himself from me and frees himself from between my body and the bedpost. I scowl at him and grab his wrist as he tries to leave.

"Kat, I'm trying to be very patient here," Peeta says carefully.

"Why are you being so stubborn over a piece of clothing?!" I reply. "Do you fear nakedness or something? You really are being ridiculous!"

I try to kiss him again, but Peeta pushes me back. I'm surprised by the strength he puts into the action and I stare at him. His eyebrows are narrowed and he's breathing quite heavily. "Stop it," he says, his voice a tone lower than I'm used to. "I have let you into my home, Kat, and I still want to help you find your way, but if you don't respect my wishes then I can't have you around."

I frown at him. "You'd kick me out? Into the streets?"

Peeta looks away from me, chewing on his lip aggressively. It bothers me that the answer doesn't come easily to him. "If you don't respect me, or my wishes, or even my wife's wishes, how do you expect me to happily allow you under my roof?"

Grinding my teeth together at the very idea of having to respect Delly in any shape or form, I scowl. "I'm not disrespectful," I fire back at him. "You have no idea what my disrespect is like."

"In human custom, Kat, you've done far more that what you probably know," Peeta snaps. I blink at him. He exhales and runs his hand through his ruffled hair. "I know that you don't like Delly, Kat. I know you aren't fond of anyone around here and I understand. We all must seem so different to you, and you must be experiencing immense culture shock."

I don't bring up that the only person I do like is Peeta himself. He's beginning to bother me, so much so that I can actually feel the anger building up in my chest. What is in a kiss? Why turn me down, someone who could actually provide a smidgen of happiness into his life? Why choose a woman who is clearly making him miserable? Who is clearly dragging him down? Is a marriage really more important to humans?

"I am married to Delly." Peeta moves away from me. I don't follow him. There's something in his blue eyes that I can't decipher. It's like . . . he believes his words, but his also doesn't at the same time. "I love her. I owe her for what I can't give. I am a bad husband; she doesn't deserve me. This whole situation just proves it."

I squint. "How?" I sign.

"I have convinced you somehow that this would work," Peeta answers. "I didn't mean for my kindness to get misconstrued for . . . whatever you think could work between us. It was not my intention."

I let myself drift backward, until my back connects with one of the wooden posts of Peeta and Delly's bed. "Why did you return the kiss?" I fold my arms and wait for Peeta's answer.

He stares back at me, a fixated look on his face. As if he's trying to decipher what I signed. I know that he was able to understand full well what I said, and he's simply stalling for time. He doesn't know how to answer me. Maybe he doesn't even truly know his feelings. A street artist thrust into a higher life, struggling to come to terms with the life he is now forced to live.

"It was . . . a momentary lapse," he eventually says.

"I don't understand what that means," I tell him. Sometimes Peeta, or the other humans, would use these complicated words that I don't understand. The only time I'm ever able to decipher what is being said to me is if Peeta, or someone else who understands sound language, is around. "Please say it differently. Easier."

Peeta sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "It was a mistake."

In a way, I predicted such a response. "Do you make such mistakes much?"

"No!"

"So, just for me?"

"I suppose."

I smirk. "So I'm a special case?"

Peeta continues to stare at me. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, shock written all over his pale face. A moment later, his expression hardens. "What exactly do you want from me, Kat?"

What do I want? I want Peeta, that much is obvious. It clearly isn't going to be as easy as I first thought. I should have known. London is not like the jungle. I can't just take what I want without consequence. I bend down and pick the Peeta's shirt off the floor. Approaching him, I shove it against his chest, putting all of my strength into the action. I'm so forceful to makes him stumble backwards into the chest of drawers. He has no idea what I am truly capable of.

"I am from the jungle. Nothing but a wild animal, as your wife continues to insist upon. Maybe you are a bad husband; maybe Delly is a bad person. All I know is that I don't care. It doesn't affect how I see you. And if it doesn't affect how I see you, why should it affect how you see yourself?" I stare at him. He stares at me.

"I won't destroy my marriage for you, Kat," Peeta says firmly.

"I want you to come to me, Peeta creature," I say back. "When you finally realize the extent of your spouse's ungrateful behavior, how she treats you like the mat at the entrance to this shelter where people wipe their feet, I'll be waiting for you. And you'll get to see what happens in the jungle when an animal gets their hands on the mate they want."

"How many times must you be told that this isn't the jungle, Kat?" Peeta asks. He's sweating now. He knows I'm not kidding. He knows I'm not kidding and its exciting him to an extent.

This makes me smirk again. "How many times are you going to act like you care?"

Peeta huffs and quickly shrugs his shirt back on. I'm reminded of when we were up the tree and I shoved my hand down his pants to define his gender. He had flushed this bright pink color and even bit his lip. I wonder if he would do that now . . . I clench my fists. No. He's going to come to me. I'm not going to run after him anymore.

"I can tell you this right now," Peeta says, not even meeting my gaze anymore. "You'll be waiting a very long time."

I actually find myself snickering. I step closer to him and reach towards his face. Peeta tries to catch my wrist but I'm too fast, moving my hand out of the way and holding a finger up, almost like a mother chastising a child. Peeta's nostrils flare, clearly making the same connection himself. "You want to lead a life of unhappiness? Go ahead. When the strain finally hits you, you know where I am."

I step away. No more touching. No more insisting. I am the dominant animal. I will not chase what I want. He will come to me.

"Goodnight, Peeta creature."

I walk away, leaving Peeta behind in his room. Alone, with his thoughts. I hope he knows that this is not my surrender. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It is my refusal to chase him, but it is by no means my giving up. This has only just begun. I know he wants me the same way I want him. Human custom is getting into his head, driving a divide between his real need and want, and what 'society' dictates his want and need should be.

Everything would be so much easier if Peeta had been born of the jungle, just as I am. Even so, I actually find myself smiling as I walk down the halls back to my room.

The thrill is in the chase, never in the capture.

A/N: Thank you so much if you are willing to give me and this story another shot. I am so sorry for the stupidly long time I have made you guys wait. Hopefully soon I'll be able to find a rhythm and you'll know exactly how long you need to wait before the next chapter is posted. You support and love means the world to me and I could not ask for better readers. Thank you so much.