A/N: Thank you again for reading this! Please keep reviewing and favoriting and so on!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Hunger Games franchise.
Peeta is kissing me. I am naked, pushed against a wall, and Peeta is kissing me, no longer trying to hide his erection. I'm so caught up in his kiss, which he has yet to break, with the feeling of his hands, which he has moved from the wall to cradle my face, and the feeling of his cock against my leg that I momentarily forget where I am. I am in pure bliss; any thought of anger at him is thrown out the window. He deepens the kiss, and my mouth opens automatically to let his tongue in. I am just thinking how it won't be so bad being forced to marry Peeta, when a moan escapes my lips. I had started grinding my body against his, and the feeling was something entirely new to me; I never wanted to stop feeling it.
But as soon as the moan reaches Peeta's ears, his eyes fly open, and he pulls himself away from me. Instantaneously, I miss the pressure of his body against mine. I look at him, confused, sad, and a little bit offended. He walks to my bed and sits on the end of it, placing his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands behind his neck.
He looks up at me with sad eyes, but his gaze never leaves mine. Quietly, he asks me, "Katniss, why are you doing this?"
His question stops me cold in my tracks. Why am I doing this? Better yet, what am I even doing? I thought I was trying to get him back for his "too pure" comments earlier, but it's escalated to something far from that.
Suddenly I'm extremely self-conscious. I cross my arms in front of my chest, and avoid looking at him. I feel tears start to well up in my eyes. I feel rejected and embarrassed, and I can't hide the way my voice breaks from the threat of tears spilling over when I say "I don't know."
"Katniss," he says, his voice full of regret at causing me pain. I yank a thin robe off the back of the bathroom door and quickly cover myself with it, not even bothering to conceal the tears that are falling fast.
"Katniss, please don't cry," he begs. "I'm sorry, for everything."
I finally look at him, and he opens his arms. Reluctantly I join him on the bed, and allow him to encase me in his arms; I will never be able to resist the warmth and steadiness that come with his embrace. We sit like that for what feels like an eternity while I cry. All the while, he's shushing me, moving my hair out of my face, and placing sweet kisses on my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my lips.
"Peeta," I finally say as my sobs are subdued.
"Shhh," he tells me, "You don't need to say anything."
"But-" I try to say, but he cuts me off.
"This is all my fault," he says. "I should have never laughed at you earlier. You would have never tried to prove yourself, but I had the fleeting feeling that you were jealous of Johanna flirting with me, and I got carried away. I know that your feelings for me aren't the same as mine are for you."
The way he says the last part…it breaks my heart. The truth is, I don't know how I feel about him. We can't be just friends, I know that, but do I like him? Or even love him? The butterflies return to my stomach at that last thought.
"I just got carried away," he repeats, then elaborates, "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed something like this would happen between us… For a few seconds I thought it was real."
"Peeta," I say tentatively, as if I'm not exactly sure of what is about to come out of my own mouth, which, quite frankly, I'm not. "I thought I did all of this just to get back at you for your comments about how I'm just so pure-"
"But Katniss, you didn't have to, I love you just the way you are-"
"Don't interrupt me," I say, and he clamps his mouth shut. I continue, "I didn't know why it bothered me so much. Your comment, that is. But I think know now. The way you said I'm just so pure, it was like you were implying that you aren't. I was already jealous after what happened with Johanna, but after those comments, I couldn't help the feelings of jealousy rising in me over some unknown girl who made you impure. That first time I kissed you in the arena last year, that was the first time I ever kissed anyone. And since then, I've kissed one other person, but all the hundreds of others have belonged to you. I can't help thinking of you kissing other girls back home and I'm…I'm…."
I trail off. What am I? Jealous? Angry? I shake my head, as if that will make the words come to me. I am staring down at my hands in my lap, brow furrowed in concentration. He grabs them and holds them in his own. I look up to meet his eyes and can see the tiniest glimpse of hope there. He doesn't say anything, just waits for me to collect my thoughts.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I don't have to tell Peeta that my feelings for him are confusing, what with him, and Gale…Gale. I remember that I've already let him go, for good. And suddenly, instead of feeling sad, I feel free. Instead of feeling trapped by Peeta's undying love for me, I feel elated! I look at him, a smile on my face, and then I kiss him. I can feel his shock, but it doesn't even last a second, and then he's kissing me back.
While we kiss, I let my mind wander to what my future has in store, and I realize I don't have a future. If all goes as planned, Peeta will be the one walking away from these Games. I let this thought stop me for a second. I see a thousand images flash in front of my mind, the marriage Peeta and I will never have, two small children who look like the perfect mixture of the two of us running around the meadow, growing old together, surrounded by grandchildren and love….and suddenly I'm angry. Angry over the world we live in, angry that all of the things I just saw in my mind's eye can never happen. These images are of another world, one where we aren't pawns of the Capitol, where our children and grandchildren would not be forced to enter the reaping and fight to their deaths; one where I actually want children and the happiness that comes from a family with the person you love…love. I love Peeta. But I can never be with him.
I allow my anger to manifest into sexual frustration. I push him down on the bed, and straddle his hips. I begin to grind myself on his once again hard cock, deepening our kisses and biting his bottom lip. He moans in a way that could be mistaken for a growl, and I feel my breath catch and that feeling in my crotch returns.
His hands are everywhere on me; my face, then they're running down the length of my sides, stopping on first my breasts, then my ass where he gives it a good squeeze with his strong hands. They reach under the thin robe, and the feeling of them on my bare ass causes me to moan uncontrollably. I have never been touched like this before. Suddenly, grinding is not enough to satiate me. I rip my robe off, then reach for his pants.
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