I want to thank everyone who took the time out to review, it really does mean a lot to me. Keep it up! And in response to those of you who were concerned about unanswered questions, I promise all will be revealed in time. Also, thank you so much for all the favorites, and follows.

As always thanks go to my Beta, Court81981. She really is the best.

Chapter Five

The lines had begun to form even before he realized he was sketching, the stick firmly in his hand. He had drawn the sharp contours of her bone structure, as if by memory, the shape of her eyes luring him in. It confused him how much she had already gotten under his skin; for the most part he was able to figure someone out within seconds of meeting him or her, a valuable skill while living in the orphan homes, but he hadn't yet gotten a clear reading from her. He had assumed her actions earlier in the evening were to aggravate Gale, but she had kissed him without anyone present. Which led him to believe- if only for a second- that her motives were pure. It hadn't been the first time he had kissed a girl, but it was the first time he had felt utterly content doing so. Her mouth was surprisingly supple and soft, even with the bottom lip being slightly chapped from her worrying it between her teeth. He missed the way she would shift her hips into his palms as his hands rested above her bottom. He had to fight the urge to glide his fingers further down between her thighs, but he knew that it would only spook her. He was lucky enough to have her kiss him, and he didn't want to risk losing the contact. Peeta had to refrain from cursing at himself when he winced back from her accidental touch on his bruise. It was a solid reminder that he was far too damaged to participate in something as simple as a kiss with a beautiful girl.

He couldn't stop watching the way she blushed when his eyes would fall on her, and he wondered what others thing he could do that would elicit such a reaction. It wasn't until Gale had arrived, that reality came crashing around him. The nausea swelled when he watched Gale embrace her was almost more than Peeta could fight off. Her reaction to Gale's affections seemed as surprised as his was, and that was at least a little bit of hope he could hold onto.

When he had made his way to the door, he could feel his pulse race, not wanting to leave her, not wanting to lose the sight of her. After Peeta had stepped onto the front porch and she closed the door, he watched Gale walk up the path. Peeta wasn't foolish enough to believe that Gale didn't suspect that something had transpired between him and Katniss. Although there was a part of him that dreaded a confrontation, the other part wanted to make his interest in her clear, but he knew that it would only bring more trouble.

Peeta lowered his shoulders as he made his way through the Seam, before he sat down on the Hawthorne's stoop. The old stone had already cooled off from the present darkness, and he exhaled while reaching for the stick he been drawing with. He had been doodling without much thought until he looked down; the amber light of the lamp casted enough visibility for him to notice her staring back at him. He marveled at how close the sketch was to her likeness- which only troubled him because he came to the realization that he was falling for her. The opening of the door behind him startled Peeta; he extended his leg, kicking dirt over the drawing of Katniss until there was no trace of her.

He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Hazelle's warm gaze. "I was wondering where you got off to." She knelt down beside him on the stoop. "Gale got back awhile ago. I was afraid he had done away with you. Really I'm surprised he hasn't before now." She nudged his shoulder with hers, earning a light chuckle.

Peeta could feel himself relax. "So am I."

She patted his back. "It'll all settle down, soon. You'll see."

Peeta looked over to her, giving a small smile. Hazelle leaned over slightly to inspect the spot where he had been drawing in the dirt. "You must be nervous or upset."

Peeta dropped the stick to the ground, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Why do you say that?"

Hazelle lifted her hand, pointing to the sketch he had made in the dirt. "Your father…umm ,Kale would do the same thing when he was upset. It nearly drove me insane how many times I found stray pieces of paper with sketches on them laying about the house."

Peeta furrowed his brow, his eyes still on the ground before him. "He was an artist?"

Hazelle nodded as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'd like to think so. The materials were too expensive to ever afford so he found whatever he had lying around- a piece of gravel that could be used as chalk, or a stick."

A small grin formed on his lip. "Sounds familiar."

She cleared her throat while giving him a sideways glance. "You know he grew up in the Seam, if he had been born to a Merchant, I'm positive he could have done something with it. He used to say that a true artist found their way." Hazelle released a sigh. "But when Gale was a few years old he stopped, and by then, you had come along."

Peeta ran a hand through his hair. "Did he ever say why he stopped?"

"No. And I never asked, but I wish I had. There's a lot of things that went unsaid between us."

Peeta cleared his throat of the lump that had begun to form there. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Hazelle, but I don't belong here. I'm only in the way."

She angled her body towards his, her hands on her knees."Then where do you belong?"

He ran his hands over his face in irritation. "Just send me back. Send me back to the orphanage in nine."

Hazelle shook her head adamantly, "You weren't safe there."

Peeta felt his anxiety rise at her attempts to be comforting, and he spoke through gritted teeth."I was fine."

"By the way the district healer told the story, you could have died, and you nearly did."

Peeta threw his hands up into the air."What was I supposed to do? Let someone get hurt?"

Hazelle leaned back, taking in the back of his shirt where the bloodstain was visible. "Well it looks to me that someone did get hurt."

Peeta turned to stare at her, his eyes bright from the tears pooling underneath them. "Better me than someone who was too small to take it."

"Not everything has to be an uphill battle, Peeta. Things can be simple."

Peeta shrugged. "That really hasn't been my experience."

Hazelle punched him lightly on the air, playfully. "Well then get some new experiences."

He couldn't help but let out a low laugh. "Alright."

"You're safe here." Hazelle laid her hand flat on his shoulder. "It's what Kale would have wanted."

Peeta's body tensed at the mention of his father, the ease that had began to work through his limbs had dissipated. They both sat there in silence, listening to the sounds of the night before Hazelle gave a long sigh, pushing herself off of the porch to stand.

"Well, I should go inside and get the little ones ready for bed. I'm sure Posy has already made a mess of the entire house since I've been out here."

Peeta looked up at her, giving a faint smile. "Alright."

Hazelle placed her hand on his shoulder once again. "It will be okay, Peeta. You'll see. This can be your home."

He smiled at her weakly, but the expression was more to reassure her than anything. Hazelle squeezed his shoulder before turning around to enter the house, the commotion inside echoing around him until he was once again alone. Peeta looked down at the ground, the area smooth and free from gravel where he had swept his foot over his sketching. He felt the familiar pain of loss tugging at his heart, and he wondered for a second how he could feel such an emotion when she had never belonged to him in the first place. It was only an odd fascination he had with a girl he barely knew, a girl he was convinced was far too good for him.

The pain at his back had begun to subside, yielding to exhaustion. Peeta exhaled and stood. He turned on his heel towards the door, his hand hovering over the handle until he pushed the door open. As he stepped over the threshold he watched- the nightly ritual of the family moving about the house was in full swing. He couldn't help a small smile from gracing his lips as he watched Hazelle chase down the smaller children. Vick jumped over the tattered sofa that sat in the middle of the room as Posy crawled underneath the dining table, refusing to take the bath that her mother insisted she needed.

Peeta made sure to stay close to the walls before he reached the staircase leading up to the loft above, not wanting to interrupt their interactions. He jogged up the stairs, his footing heavy with each step. When he had reached the second floor, he noticed that most of his trunk had already been unpacked, and a fresh pair of sleeping pants and an undershirt were waiting for him at the end of the bed closest to the wall. He assumed it had been Hazelle, who seemed to want to make him feel as at home as possible.

But what she didn't realize was that Peeta never had the chance to feel content with his surroundings, other than the short time he had spent with Luka Mellark. Most of his life had been spent in a series of orphan homes, and on the occasions that his mother had allowed him to live with her, he was at the mercy of her present mate. And no man liked having a child around that wasn't his, especially one he had to clothe and feed. So, when she showed care towards him, it only made him feel emptier, that much more lost.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind in vain as he walked across the room, the boards beneath his feet squeaking. Peeta was careful to pull his shirt free from his body, the muscles at his back flexing underneath the newly placed stitches. He winced at the memory of the girl that had tended to him and not entirely because of the pain when he shifted his back to remove his clothing. When he had freed his arms from the material he tossed the soiled shirt onto the bed. The bloodstain glared back at him, and he had to fight the urge cry. Instead, he reached back gently, tracing the fingers of his right hand over the bandage. The sweat that had accumulated on his skin from the humidity had already begun to soak through, and he hoped an infection wouldn't set in. However, the thought of Katniss tending to him did enter his mind, a deep blush forming at his cheeks.

With more grace than Peeta thought he was capable of, he bent down to retrieve the undershirt from the mattress before him. He had entertained the notion of going to bed shirtless on account of the heat, but the possibility of the others seeing his scars only made him want to cover up. It was one thing for a healer to see his broken body, but he didn't want to have to endure the awkward moment when one of the Hawthornes inquired about it. Peeta hooked his fingers into the hem of the undershirt before standing up straight, as he proceeded to push his arms through. His hands were buried in the fabric when the high -pitched squeak of a floorboard rang through his ears. He froze, stopping his movements entirely until turning around, his arms extended out before him, the shirt over his hands.

Peeta swallowed, when Rory came into view, his brow furrowed. "What happened to your back? There's an awful lot of scars there."

Peeta shrugged, trying to seem casual. "It's no big deal."

Rory shook his head. "How does someone get like that?"

Peeta pulled the shirt over his head. "I don't know…hard life?"

Rory narrowed his eyes. "I know a lot people who have a hard life and they don't look like that. Heck, even Gale with all the snare lines he's had wrapped around his arms and hands doesn't look like that."

Peeta could feel the color leaving his face when he noticed someone walking up behind Rory. The younger boy was unaware of Gale's presence as he waited for Peeta's reply.

Peeta watched him jump slightly when Gale playfully thumped the side of his ear. "Stop being a nosy ass and go wash up for bed."

Rory glared at Gale muttering to himself and rubbing his ear as he turned to walk down the stairs. An uncomfortable silence settled in the room as the two young men stared at each other, neither moving. Peeta could feel his heart beat pulsating in his ears as Gale leveled him with a hard stare.

Peeta felt himself exhale slowly when Gale decided to speak, his voice clear. "I don't want you discussing your issues with the smaller kids."

Peeta clenched his jaw forcing himself to relax. "I'm sorry, but it wasn't as if I was the one to bring it up."

Gale narrowed his eyes as he advanced a few feet. "I don't give a shit who started it. I don't want my family to be pulled into your crap. At least not as much as I can control it."

Peeta matched Gale's expression, "But that's the real problem, isn't it? Why you hate me being here so much? You can't control it. I get it, you feel like it's the only way you've survived, but let me tell you it doesn't matter how tight you hold on, you can still lose it all."

Gale stomped the rest of the way until only a few inches of space separated them. "What would an orphan know about having something to hold onto?"

Peeta fisted the hem of his shirt to keep him from striking. "Let's be honest about what's really pissing you off." He watched as Gale raised a brow. "Katniss. It hasn't gotten past me that your hostility seemed to increase after she arrived."

"Katniss is a part of my world that you'll never be a part of. Period. You call full around with all the other girls in the district if you want to. I don't give a damn but keep away from her. We all know what you are."

Peeta stepped into Gale, his temper flaring. "And what is that, Gale?"

He felt the saliva leave Gale's mouth as it landed under his eye. "A mistake, plain and simple."

Peeta clenched his jaw so tight he could feel the nerve ticking. "Don't hold back, Gale." He reached up wiping the spittle from his face. "Please let me know how you really feel."

"You don't belong here."

Peeta smirked, eager to make him lash out. "Well, Hazelle must think I do. Or she wouldn't have brought me here."

"She's a soft touch. My mother believes that you're somehow a part of this family. But I don't fucking care if we have the same father because you'll never really be one of us."

Peeta could feel his nails digging into his sides as he fought the urge to pummel Gale. It was clear he was shorter, but Peeta had a sturdier build, and he was positive he could take the older boy. The air was heated as both boys breathed into the other's face, their tempers boiling. Peeta could feel something shift in the air as he prepared for the scuffle. He had become accustomed to knowing when an altercation was close, and he prepared himself for the inevitable strike from Gale.

Suddenly, Hazelle's voice traveled up the stairs, startling them, causing both boys to concede and step back. Peeta still held his fists at his side as Gale glanced behind him, giving a short reply to his mother.

He turned back towards Peeta. "You just remember your place here."

Peeta held his tongue as he watched Gale run down the stairs without giving him another glance. He waited until the other boy was no longer visible before walked over to the bed, sitting down with a sigh. His hands flew to his face as he fought through the emotional drain of coming off an adrenaline surge. The animosity that Gale held towards him was staggering so much that Peeta entertained the idea of packing up what he could carry easily and running off. It was then that the image of stormy grey eyes came to mind, and the way her hair would fall behind her shoulder when she moved, or the way her petite hands held onto him. His mind began to envision the way her body would feel underneath his, or how she would press hers flush against his. He scolded himself for entertaining such a fantasy, but it didn't stop his mind from racing, piecing a future together with her. She somehow was anchoring him here and he didn't know if he resented her for it or not.

A/N: Sorry for the length, but I promise some will be longer than others. I'm also working on a few new stories, but I'm going to try to keep to updating this story every week. Please keep reviewing. It makes me write faster.

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