A/N: Another long wait, I apologize! I am working on a novel that is taking up most of my writing time lately. I almost posted this as a mini-chapter just to get an update out there, but it felt rushed and half-assed, so I took my time and now I have a nice long chapter for you! Thank you to all of the reviewers and followers! I never imagined this story would get half of the attention it has. I'm so thankful for all of you! Enjoy :)

5
False Sense of Security

"How do I say krieg in English? I can't remember."

Peeta looked up from the book he was reading to find Katniss hunched over a notebook, tapping a pencil absently against her forehead.
"War," he said, watching her silver eyes light up with recognition as she wrote down the word. He closed his book and rolled to his side on her mattress, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at her. "What are you doing?"

Katniss drew the notebook to her chest protectively. "Nothing."

"Come on," he pleaded, his sapphire eyes like saucers. "Don't start hiding things from me now."

She flipped the edges of the pages with her finger. "I'm just practicing my English. That's all," she mumbled and glanced up at him through her dark lashes. He fixed her with a stare, one eyebrow raised. Katniss slowly released her grip on the book and let it fall back down into her lap. "I'm writing… about my dad. And my mom. Gale."

"Everyone who's been taken from you," Peeta mused.

"Not just from me. Everyone who was taken too soon or thrown into the chaos of this ridiculous war." She looked up. "I was actually wondering if you would tell me more about your family, too. I don't want anyone to be forgotten."

The emotion in his eyes was unclear, but he looked touched if not sad and slightly lost.
"Sure," he said finally. "Can I see what you've written?"

Katniss reluctantly handed the book over to him and twisted the blanket nervously in her hands as he read. Her fingers ached from clutching it so tightly by the time he finished the last page.

"This is a really nice way to honor their memories," he said, "and sacrifices," he added, looking down at Gale's page. Peeta glanced at the blank left-hand side of the page. "If you want, I could paint them for you."

"Really?"

"Sure. Why don't we go down to my room to work. All of my paint supplies are there."

A line of worry creased Katniss' forehead. "I don't think I should leave."

Peeta stood and smiled. "It's not like we're going outside." He extended a hand to her. "Come on."

She grasped his strong hand without thinking anything more than wanting to feel his skin against hers. Any contact between them lately had been purely accidental. The only time she got to enjoy that feeling was when he was lost in a deep sleep and his arm brushed against her torso where her shirt had risen up, or their legs bumped together while one of them was tossing and turning. She had come to realize that she couldn't sleep without him beside her.

Every night when he joined her in bed, she snuggled in close to him under the guise of sleep. She hadn't realized how starved she was for human contact until Peeta enveloped her in his warm, steady embrace each night. And increasingly, she had been yearning for more, but didn't know how to ask for it. She wasn't brave enough to cuddle up to him while they were both fully conscious, not since she leaned into him a few days ago in the early hours of sunrise and earned a low, pleasured groan from his throat. The sound seemed to rouse them both, and Peeta rushed off to the bathroom before Katniss had a chance to say a word. He was embarrassed by his body's reaction to her, and Katniss was embarrassed by how much the feeling of him against her back and his sounds against her ear had turned her on.

He squeezed her hand with reassurance as he helped her to her feet, and kept their fingers locked together all the way down the steps to his room. She forgot how comforting his home was. It was a disheveled mess as one would expect from a seventeen-year-old boy, but it was reassuring to Katniss that he was truly there. He was with her through it all. Peeta kicked a pile of clothes out of the way once they stepped into his room. He rummaged through his art supplies while Katniss hovered in the doorway.

He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. "You coming in?"

Katniss clutched the journal to her chest and took a few steps inside.

"I know it's a disaster zone in here, but you can make yourself comfortable. It's gonna take me a while to paint everybody and I really need your help describing things to me."

She sat on the corner of his bed and watched him gather up his paint and pens. He tucked one pen behind his ear and trapped another between his teeth as picked out the necessary brushes. His blond curls fell over his eyes, muscles rippling in his arms when he pulled his chair over to the bed. Smudges of flour decorated his forearms from his earlier work downstairs.

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. When did he get so damn sexy and who told him it was okay?

"This was just a ruse to get me in your bed again, wasn't it?"

Peeta looked up and and smiled behind the pen in his teeth. "Maybe," he said playfully and nudged her foot with his as he sat down. Katniss looked down at her lap, hoping to hide the blush rising up into her cheeks.

"Okay, now you'll have to help me out here with your dad, but I think I can recall your mom pretty well. Why don't you watch while I work and correct anything that's off?"

Katniss agreed, but found herself watching Peeta more than whatever he was painting. The concentration on his face was so intense, so precise with every stroke of his brush. He almost didn't even seem to be in the room with her anymore. He was on another plane, where only he and his art existed.

"What do you think?" he asked without taking his eyes off of his work.

"Perfect," Katniss whispered without even glancing down at the paper.

Peeta looked up through his lashes and caught her staring at him. She dropped her gaze immediately, but not fast enough to escape the small smile on his face.

She didn't have much time to ruminate on her embarrassment, however, as she was so taken by the portrait of her mother. Katniss gasped, "Oh, Peeta, she's beautiful."

"Just like her daughter."

Katniss looked up and found him still watching her. "I'm- I don't- I don't look like her," she stammered, forgetting how to muster a simple, 'thank you'.

Peeta only chuckled and went back to work. Katniss knew she needed to get their conversation going in an entirely different direction. And fast. They couldn't afford for things to get any more awkward between them than they already were.

"How do you do it, Peeta? Keep up with this house and your job, school, HJ, not to mention hiding me? I mean, I think I would have cracked under all that pressure by now."

"No you wouldn't. You're strong. And if a little extra pressure meant keeping someone you love alive, you could do it too."

Someone he loves? Katniss thought. So much for moving into less awkward territory. She recalled her first day here over a year ago when he dropped the "L" word in similar fashion. He continued speaking, however, as though he didn't even realize what he had said.

"I'm just doing what I have to. Haymitch is a lot of help downstairs. He's really the one who's keeping the business open." Peeta paused and dipped his brush in a cup of water. "I think some of the guys at HJ are wondering what's going on since I've missed meetings. That's mostly just because I don't feel like enduring whatever torture they have cooked up every day."

"Like what?" Katniss asked, pulling her knees up to her chin. Peeta put the finishing touches on her mother's eyes.

"Well, all they're doing is preparing us for the war. So most of the time the meetings are nothing but endurance tests and drills. It's fun sometimes when I get to use my wrestling, but usually it's just a pain in the ass."

"Peeta, you shouldn't be skipping meetings."

"I can handle them," he assured her. "All right, this just has to dry for a while." He set the open notebook on his bedside table. "Do you want something to eat?"

Katniss nodded. "Sounds good."

They both lost track of the time, aware of nothing except how much they enjoyed each other's company. Peeta entertained her with stories of the meatheads at HJ and memories of making a mess in the kitchen with his father. For a boy who experienced so much tragedy in life, he certainly knew how to focus on the good. At some point, they found themselves side-by-side on his bed with writings and drawings propped up against the pillows, talking and laughing until the stars were high in the sky.

Katniss blinked in the moonlight shining through the window across from Peeta's bed.

Peeta's bed. How did I fall asleep in here?

She adjusted her arms beneath the pillow as her eyes settled on his face. That's how. He lay beside her, mirroring her position on his stomach with his arms under his head, those stubborn curls forever falling into his eyes.

Katniss pulled her hand out from beneath the pillow and brushed his hair back.

"Peeta?" she whispered.

"Hmm," was all he could muster.

She considered all she wanted to say to him; to question again why he was so good to her, to ask what she could possibly do in return, to thank him. But she was never very good at expressing her feelings, and all of her words got stuck.

When it seemed as though he had fallen back asleep, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. His eyes cracked open with a tired smile.

"What was that for?" his voice thick with sleep.

"Everything," she whispered.

He propped himself up on his elbows. "I don't know, I was a little unconscious just now. I need a do-over," he said, hovering inches above her face.

Katniss rolled onto her back and met his hungry gaze. "In your dreams," she said, turning away from him and closing her eyes.

Peeta collapsed face-first back down to his pillow. "You're always in my dreams."

Katniss hid her smile into the pillow, inhaling the scent of him as she drifted off to sleep again.

The next time she woke, she felt the weight of Peeta's arm around her waist. She turned in his loose grasp and found that he was already awake.

"Good morning," he said, making no move to draw his arm away from her.

"Morning," she returned.

He tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear. "No nightmares."

Katniss shook her head. "No. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you ever have any nightmares?" she wondered.

"Sometimes," Peeta replied. "But I'm fine when I realize you're still here." He sat up and stretched his arms. "Breakfast?"

Katniss propped herself up on one elbow. "Actually, can I… could I, um, take a shower?"

"Of course you can. You remember where the bathroom is?"

She nodded. "Thank you."

Katniss stood beneath the stream of water, wondering why she had to be so stubborn about staying upstairs. What could really go so wrong if she slipped down here for a hot shower every once in a while?

When she was feeling more relaxed than she could ever remember being, the bathroom door flew open. Katniss jumped and wiped the water from her eyes just as the curtain was being pulled back. Peeta's hand flew to her mouth before she could scream, but the shock in her eyes was fierce.

"Shh," Peeta pleaded. "They're here." Trusting her not to make a sound, he took his hand away and pulled off his shirt, tossing it out to the floor, covering her pile of clothing.

Katniss wasn't sure who was meant by "they", but she had a few good guesses. And none of them would end well for the two teenagers, soaking wet in the shower. Peeta reached out again and pulled a towel in, holding it up for Katniss to shield herself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "They were banging on the door about some security check."

Katniss stood frozen, clutching the towel to her front as the warm water beat against her back. She heard them clomping around the house, rifling through things, calling for Peeta.

All she could think of was the notebook.

The notebook that lay open in Peeta's room.

The notebook filled with such treasonous words surely punishable by death.

"Hey," Peeta's hoarse whisper called her back. "It's gonna be okay." And he managed a very convincing smile as he pushed a wet lock of hair away from her forehead.

Despite her terror, she couldn't keep her eyes from roaming the expanse of his chest, the definition of his muscle, the smudges of yesterday's flour as they washed away from his skin and swirled down the drain.

The voices grew closer and her eyes snapped back up to his.

"Peet!"

"I'm in the shower!" Peeta called out, never moving his eyes from Katniss'.

The bathroom door, which Peeta did not latch behind him, was nudged open once again.

"Peeta, what the hell! We've been looking all over for you," a young man's voice said.

Peeta finally turned away from Katniss and yanked the curtain open just enough to reveal his upper body.

"Would you get out of here? Damn, what the hell is wrong with you, Brute? I'll be out in a minute."

Brutus, still in his Hitler Youth uniform, held his hands up in surrender as he backed out of the bathroom. Peeta turned back to Katniss.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered again.

She finally found her voice. "Would you stop apologizing for saving my life? I'm the one who owes you the apologies here."

Peeta leaned into her. She could feel the heat rising from his damp skin and wanted nothing more than to drop her towel and feel him against her, to cling to him during her last moments in this world. He reached around her and turned off the water.

"Stay here," he whispered against her ear and stepped out of the tub.

She braved a peek around the curtain and watched him add his pants to the floor and pick up another towel to wrap around his waist. She willed them to survive this day- if only to see more of that.

When he disappeared from the bathroom, she sealed the curtain up tight and sank to the floor.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Peeta's tone was instantly angry.

"Standard safety check, Mellher," a new voice replied. It was older and deeper than Brutus'. "We are sussing out all possible bomb shelter locations."

"That's bullshit!" Peeta threw right back at him. "Does this look like the fucking basement to you? What are you doing in my house?"

"Calm down," the man sounded bored with Peeta's hissy fit.

"No! You know the bakery basement is a bomb shelter location. That was sorted out months ago. And even if you were rechecking, that doesn't explain what you're all doing up here!"

Brutus spoke again. "We just need to check everything out, you know? People are talking. About where you are all the time. Why you're taking home all this extra food, you were carrying around a banned book the other day, missing meetings-"

"You really have that little faith in me?" Peeta demanded. "You think I'm dishonoring all of the work we're doing? You honestly think I would undermine the entire purpose of this fight and betray all of you?"

His words struck Katniss. They were so genuine, so sincere they momentarily made her question where his true loyalties lay.

"Well, no, I mean, I certainly didn't but-" Brutus was cut off by yet another new voice, but Katniss knew this voice well. Haymitch.

"What in the hell is going on up here? All your ruckus is disrupting business downstairs! Get the fuck out, all of ya! Leave the boy alone. You don't think he's got enough going on right now, keeping up a business, a home, school, Youth, that he needs to deal with this nonsense? You think he'd take the time, let alone the risk to harbor a Jew? Jesus Christ. Get out!"

Katniss heard their heavy boots tromping back down the steps until all was quiet again.

"You all right, boy?" Haymitch asked. Peeta must have nodded because Haymitch continued, "Good. Be careful." And the door closed behind him.

What Katniss didn't see was the way Haymitch's eyes lingered on the two bowls full of cereal on the kitchen counter, or the knowing look in his eyes as he warned Peeta to be careful.

Several minutes passed before Peeta returned to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

"Katniss? You can come out now."

She dressed quickly and twisted her wet hair into a sloppy braid to keep it out of her face. It had been years since she had it cut and it was getting unmanageable. She pulled the door open slowly and was met with Peeta's ever-reassuring face.

"I never should have come down here," she said, avoiding his perfectly blue eyes as she pushed past him. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist but she wrenched free. "I should have never come here in the first place when I left Liesel's last year. I'm going to get you killed! I'm leaving, that's it. I can't do this anymore. If they're meant to find me, they'll find me. I'm done putting your life in danger, too."

Peeta grasped her arm a bit more firmly and pulled her into him, holding her strongly against his chest.

"That's too bad, because I'm not letting you go."

"You can't make me stay," she mumbled half-heartedly against his skin.

Peeta held her face in his hands until she brought her eyes up to meet his. "Are you sure about that?"

A/N: Aaah sorry to end there! The next chapter will pick up right in this spot, I promise. I'm excited for what's coming up next, so I don't anticipate another long wait! (littleduckbuttercup on tumblr if you have questions or want to chat!)