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My back is starting to ache from the awkward positioning, and I think my left arm has gone numb, but I don't dare move Katniss just yet. Her breathing is mostly even and regular, but every few minutes she stiffens and shudders violently, causing her to whimper and me to jump, breaking my heart a little each time. I keep my fingers running lightly up and down her back, whispering softly in her ear, reminding her that she's not alone.

After about thirty minutes her whimpering and shuddering stops, her death grip on my body loosening a little. I wait another ten minutes or so before carefully sliding her down, laying her on the futon, positioning my pillow under her head and covering her with a blanket. I stretch and rotate my arm a couple of times, getting the blood flowing again, then grab a kitchen towel to tackle the spilled root beer on the floor.

Once I've cleaned up the mess and changed into my pajamas, I slide the coffee table over and arrange my extra blankets on the floor next to the futon, preparing to go to sleep. I've just removed my prosthesis and laid down when Katniss startles and cries out. Her hand flails about, searching.

"Peeta?" she cries, sounding like she's still half asleep. "Where are you?"

Instantly I sit back up, grasping her hand and pressing a reassuring kiss to her cheek. "I'm right here," I whisper. "I'm right here next to you."

Her eyes open, brimming with tears. She pulls my hand up, cradling it next to her face. "Do you have to sleep on the floor?"

"I, ah, well," I stutter. "I wasn't sure if you-." I pause, clearing my throat, my face burning. "I wasn't sure if you'd want me-"

"Please?" she interrupts, tugging on my hand. "Please, will you stay with me? I need you."

I need you. Those words ripple through my body, flaring to life sensations I thought were impossible for me to feel. No one has ever said they needed me before. And from what I've come to understand about Katniss, her saying she needs me is even harder than her admitting she loves me. "Always," I whisper, my mouth dry. "I'll always stay with you."

"Thank you," she whispers, pressing her cheek into my hand.

I lean over for a quick, sweet kiss, even though every fiber of my being is screaming more, more, more! "I need to move the coffee table, so I can pull the futon out. Otherwise there won't be room for both of us."

"Okay," she says. She releases my hand and moves into a sitting position. "Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I borrow another one of your t-shirts?" she asks shyly. "To sleep in?"

"Sure!" I rasp through my parched throat. Swallowing hard, I jerk my head in the direction of the dresser. "They're in the third drawer."

With light, silent footsteps, Katniss makes her way over to my dresser, pulling out my Baltimore Ravens t-shirt and a pair of my pajama pants. The intimacy of her rifling through my dresser and pulling out my clothes to sleep in is so overwhelming that I have to stop and take several deep breaths trying to calm myself. I shake my head, trying to clear it so I can concentrate on pulling out the futon. Having been stuck in the couch position for so long, the futon protests rather loudly about being disturbed, and my shaking hands don't help the matter at all.

Once Katniss emerges from the bathroom, she crawls onto the now-flat futon, settling herself down on the side closest to the coffee table. She holds the blanket up, inviting me to join her. I can feel my body trembling as I lay down next to her, very grateful for the cool breeze filtering in through the open window. Lord, please help me control myself! I pray desperately. Don't let me make a fool of myself. Or even worse, don't let me scare her away!

But if Katniss notices how uncomfortable I am, she doesn't say anything. Instead she takes my arm, pulls it across her waist, then turns her back to me and snuggles up against my chest. Still intimate, but also still somewhat innocent. Gradually, I allow myself to relax and enjoy just being close to her. She's so pure.

Some time passes, and I think she's fallen asleep when she suddenly burrows closer to me. "Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," she whispers.

Her simple words send another flash of warmth through me, undoing most of my relaxation efforts. I chance pressing a kiss to the back of her head anyway. "Of course."

She's quiet for a while, and I'm just on the brink of sleep when she says my name again. "Peeta?"

"Hmm?" I say sleepily.

"We should go to your parents' house for Christmas."

Inhaling deeply, I smile and squeeze her tighter. "Okay. Sounds good." And I think I this is absolutely the best birthday I've ever had.

Sleeping next to Katniss rewards me with the best night of sleep I've had in a long time. I groan when my alarm goes off in the morning, forcing me to detangle myself from the warmth of her body. She stirs as I get up, her hand unconsciously reaching for me. I tuck the blanket over her shoulders and stroke her hair for a moment until she relaxes, settling back into a deep sleep. Once I'm showered and dressed, I leave a note for her on the coffee table, telling her I'll bring some breakfast up for us once I'm done with my shift.

We end up heading over to Haymitch's house for the afternoon, with Katniss insisting over my protests that I bring my laundry along to wash at his house. I finally accept, under the condition that I make lunch for all of us when we get there, to which Katniss readily agrees. Haymitch is his same grumpy self while I'm there, his skin tone looking even more sallow than the last time I saw him. A good meal seems to perk him up again though, and the afternoon is not at all unpleasant.

The rest of the weekend passes uneventfully. But as the days go by and we get closer to Christmas, Katniss doesn't ever bring up her traumatic flashback. And, being afraid, I don't bring it up either. I can tell though, that something has shifted in our relationship since that night. We've become even closer, almost to the point of it scaring me a little. I feel it now, every time we kiss or I hold her close to me. The pleasant warmth that I used to feel has roared into a blazing inferno, with seemingly little to no chance of it being quenched. This something I wasn't sure if I was even capable of feeling, especially after what happened with Glimmer. The wanting, the desire, the pull towards her, accompanied right on its heels by the fear that if I allow myself to give in to those feelings, she will then reject me.

"Let me get this straight," Finnick says during our Thursday night conversation. It's been almost two weeks since we've talked on the phone, which is unusual for us. He sounds tired and stressed tonight, more stressed than I've ever heard him. "She spent the night, of your birthday, at your place..."

"Yeah," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "We were watching a movie, like we always do, and something in the movie made her upset. Really, really upset. And by the time I was able to calm her down and pray for her, she'd fallen asleep in my arms. I was prepared to sleep on the floor again, and she was stretched out on the futon-"

"You still have that old futon?" Finnick interrupts, chuckling. "That was only supposed to be a temporary thing!"

"Yeah, well, it still works," I say, confused. "Why would I get rid of it if it still works?"

"Annie always hated that thing," Finnick laughs. "She was so happy once we got down here and could sleep on a real bed."

"I still have the moped too, ya know," I remind him. "And it still works too."

"Really?" Finnick asks. "It's still running?"

"Yep! Well, I only probably use it once or twice a week at the most, but yeah, it still runs."

"Well then, just FYI, I wouldn't recommend having Katniss ride on it with you. Speaking from experience, it doesn't work all that well."

I pull my phone away from my ear, shaking my head at the ludicrous thought. "Why would I even think of doing that? Did you actually have Annie try and ride on it with you? Finnick, there's only enough room for one person!"

"Alright, so apparently I'm not as smart as you!" Finnick snaps, sounding angry. My eyes widen at his sudden outburst, but before I can respond he apologizes. "I'm sorry Peeta. I'm just extra busy and stressed right now. Um, Annie's pregnant. We just found out last week."

"Oh..." I say, stretching the word out over several seconds. "Isn't, um, isn't that a good thing?"

"Of course it is," Finnick says, sounding like it's anything but a good thing. "It was just... unexpected... is all. I mean, Finn's just now started to sleep through the night, and we're still living here, in Mags' house, and… yeah."

"You've always told me that God's timing is perfect," I remind him, which I realize as soon as the words leave my mouth was not at all the correct thing to say.

"Yeah, well, sometimes I wish it wasn't so perfect, okay? And a little warning might be nice on occasion, too. Maybe a kick in the pants, a big, flashing light, or something… ya know?"

"I'm sorry you're feeling so stressed," I say quietly. "Do you need me to hang up?"

"No, no," Finnick says, sounding resigned. "I shouldn't be unloading this stuff on you anyway. So, you were saying?"

I scrub my face with my palm, trying to remember where the conversation derailed. "Um, I was ready to sleep on the floor, and then she woke up and asked me to stay with her. She said," and I gulp, inhaling deeply. "She said she needed me, and she wanted me to sleep next to her."

There's a few seconds of silence. "She wanted to sleep… next to you…" Finnick says slowly. "Next to you, but not, ah, with you?"

Feeling a blush creep up my neck, I shake my head. "In the emotional state she was in, I'm not sure… that… even crossed her mind. She wanted me to hold her. For comfort."

"Uh huh. And?"

"Aaannnddd, I did. But as soon as she said the words, 'I need you', it was like something inside me woke up."

"What do you mean, exactly?" Finnick asks, sounding intently curious.

I rub my nose furiously, extremely glad that I'm alone right now. "Ever since the accident, um… I wasn't sure if…" I feel a cold sweat breaking out over the back of my neck. "I wasn't sure if I would ever feel real… desire… like that. I mean, I would kiss Katniss, and hold her hand, and feel things…". I break off, unsure if I'm making any sense. "I would want to kiss her, and we would, and it would feel so good… but I always felt like I was still in control of myself. That I could stop before things went too far. But that night was the first time where, I wasn't sure if I could have. If she'd wanted to go further that night than just kissing, I'm not sure I could've refused. And I… definitely wouldn't have wanted to stop, and that by itself was the most frightening part of it."

Finnick is quiet for a moment. "You know Peeta, having a sexual desire for the woman you love is completely normal, right? In fact, I'd be concerned if you didn't."

"Yeah, I know," I mumble. "I'm just not used to how intense these feelings are, and it's kinda scary. And Finnick, the only time I've, ah, gone that far, I lost half of my leg."

"That's not gonna happen again, I can almost promise you-" Finnick starts.

"And I, ah, I want to wait… for that… until we're married," I say, rushing my words, as if saying them out loud will make it easier somehow.

"As well you should," Finnick says in his stern, pastor voice. "That's how it's supposed to be, anyhow. Peeta, you may be studying to be a pastor, but you're still human too. You're a young, handsome guy who's in love with a young, attractive woman. What you're feeling is completely normal."

"Okay," I say. "That's all well and good. But it still doesn't help me much."

I hear Finnick exhale suddenly, like he just yawned. "Yeah," he says, sounding even more exhausted. "You know, I'm not sure I'm really the best person to help you with this sort of thing. Especially since I'm only available to you over the phone."

I feel a lump start to form in my throat. "What do you mean?" I demand.

"I have no experience with this type of issue, Peeta. I'm not sure how I could help you. And I think you definitely need some help. Professional help."

"No!" I say sharply. "You're not gonna try sending me to a shrink again! Finnick, I told you I won't do it!"

"Peeta," Finnick says, sounding like he's speaking to a cornered animal. "How many times do I have to tell you this! You still haven't appropriately dealt with what happened to you! And, there is absolutely nothing wrong with getting professional help-"

"I don't have any time for, for therapy! Especially right now!" I snap, flopping my head back against the back of the futon, only narrowly missing the windowsill. "Next week is finals week, Finnick! And I probably couldn't even afford it anyway!"

"Peeta!" Finnick yells, sounding more angry than I've ever heard him. "You went through a horribly traumatic experience, and that experience has obviously skewed your views and feelings on some really important things! But I am not a trained counselor. I can listen to you, and help you as much as my knowledge and experience allows, but there are some things that are really better off left to professionals!"

Squeezing my eyes closed, I shake my head, petulantly refusing to admit that he might have a valid point. "It was hard enough for me to tell you and Annie about what happened to me. And then telling Katniss about it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. So how in the world, do you expect me to tell a perfect stranger about it?"

"I don't know," Finnick says quietly. "But, in my opinion, I think you need to. You need to find a way to do it. Because what'll happen, Peeta, when you and Katniss get married, and you find yourself too terrified to touch her on your wedding night? That's not normal, and you need to talk to someone about it."

Okay, I have to admit he does have a valid point. Pure or not, and as sweet and nurturing as Katniss is, I can't imagine how rejected she would feel if I were… too afraid to get over my insecurities in that particular moment. And, if the tables were turned, I'm not sure I would understand either.

Swallowing hard, I nod my head, as if Finnick can see me through the phone connection. "All right then. Who? Um, who can I talk to? And do you think I should try to get Katniss to talk to someone too? She has a very traumatic past as well, and from what I know of her, she's just been trying to bury it deep down and not deal with it, and that can't be healthy in the long term."

"I have a list of Christian counselors I can email you," he replies quickly. "I think there even might be someone there on the college campus, or at least fairly close to the campus. And, your student health coverage should cover at least part of the cost. As for Katniss, you obviously can't force her to talk about her past, but maybe if she sees you trying to deal better with yours, she'll be inspired to follow suit."

"Okay," I whisper. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Finnick says, stifling another yawn. "I'll email you tomorrow, okay? And I want you to call and set up an appointment with someone as soon as possible, yeah? Because the next time I hear from you, I'm gonna ask you when your appointment is, and you better be able to tell me."

"Fine," I say. "I'll text you the details once I set something up. Now, go to sleep if you're so exhausted."

"That's next on my to-do list," Finnick mumbles. "Talk to you soon."

I spend most of Friday morning and afternoon brooding over my conversation with Finnick. I'd adamantly refused to see any kind of psychiatrist or counselor after my accident, over the protests of Finnick and Annie and my own parents. Since I was already eighteen, my parents couldn't force me to see anyone, and my father's near-constant badgering about it once I was released from the hospital made me even more determined not to go. But now, staring at the list Finnick emailed me, I finally have to admit that maybe they were right after all.

"Dr. Allison Johnson, definitely out," I mumble to myself, going through the names. I don't feel at all comfortable talking to a woman about this… "Dr. Chris Ronan, is that a man or a woman? Dr. Lane Park, Dr. Marcus Aurelius… hmm, that guy's parents must've been history teachers…" I go through the entire list before scrolling back up to Dr. Aurelius' name, quickly Googling his address and finding that his office is only about a block away from campus. "Alright, here goes nothing."

Dialing up Dr. Aurelius' office, I'm surprised when the phone is answered by a nurse, whose first question is if I'm in immediate danger. After reassuring her that I'm just trying to make an appointment, she connects me to the receptionist. Fifteen minutes later, after verifying that the office does accept my limited insurance coverage, my appointment is scheduled for the following Wednesday after my last exam, which happens to be two days prior to Christmas Eve, the start of my Christmas break from school. Grudgingly, I send a text to Finnick with the date and time of my appointment, receiving the thumbs-up emoji in response.

Fighting the strong pull to take a nap, I manage to get some studying done for my Revelation exam before it's time to go downstairs and wait for Katniss. I audibly gasp when she walks into the coffee shop, looking as beautiful as ever with her cheeks flushed from the crisp mountain air, bringing along our dinner to share before group starts at 7pm. Our conversation while we eat is casual and light, sticking mainly to banter about the approaching football playoffs, and greatly boosting to my mood.

But once group is over and we head up the stairs to my apartment, I feel my palms start to sweat in nervousness. I've still been too afraid to bring up Katniss's flashback from three weeks ago, and she, not all that surprisingly, hasn't attempted to bring it up either. It's just been sitting there, like the proverbial elephant in the corner, something we both know is there but neither one of us wants to acknowledge.

So once we settle in on the futon together, instead of reaching for my laptop and starting up a movie, I reach for both of her hands instead, turning her so we're facing each other.

"Peeta?" Katniss asks. "What is it?"

"Um, I know you probably don't want to," I begin, trying not to look as nervous as I feel. "But I think we should talk about what happened, that night we tried to watch Doctor Strange."

Katniss immediately pales and looks down, studying our clasped hands. "What's there to talk about?"

"Well, for one thing," I begin, remembering my conversation with Finnick. "It's a very harrowing experience, what you went through. And I-, I want to make sure you get any help that you might need-"

Pursing her lips, Katniss tries to pull her hands away, causing me to clamp my fingers down firmly around hers. "I'm fine, Peeta," she mutters, still refusing to look at me.

"Katniss!" I say, frustrated. "No one who went through what you went through can come out of it fine." I release one of her hands, moving my fingers up under her chin, raising her head to look at me. "Not even a survivor like you."

Her free hand reaches up to cover mine, lacing our fingers together. "I'm okay," she says. "I promise." I feel her thumb rubbing circles over the back of my hand. "If I decide that I'm not fine, I'll let you know. Okay?"

Tears spring to my eyes. No, it's not okay! I think. I don't think it's possible to go through something like that and come out fine! But I don't say any of that out loud. "Okay," I say instead. "If you're absolutely sure. But I want you to know that I'm here, and I'm here to help you in any way that I can. Even if it's only to pray for you, and hold you while you cry." I lean in for a kiss, just a brief brush of my lips against hers. "You don't have to do everything yourself, Katniss. It's okay to ask for help when you need it."

One corner of her mouth quirks up slightly, remembering when she said the same words to me weeks ago. "I know," she whispers. "Thank you." Then she looks up at me, her small pink mouth slightly open, her grey eyes sparkling in the dim moonlight filtering in through the window next to us. "Peeta."

Almost without thinking, our lips press together, our heads tilting to deepen the kiss. Our hands detach so my arms can wrap around her. The kindling in my chest ignites, roaring to life as I pull her closer to me, pressing our upper bodies together. Katniss whimpers as her fingers thread into my hair, spurring me on as my lips break from her mouth to trail kisses down her jaw to her neck and back up again. More, more, more!

The shrill ring of my phone startles us both. We break apart, staring at each other, breathing hard, with Katniss looking flushed and disheveled and thoroughly kissed. I ignore my ringing phone, instead pressing my forehead against hers. "Katniss… I…"

"Shhh," she says, her fingers tracing the outline of my lips. "I know."

Planting one more kiss on her forehead, I pull my phone out of my pocket, squinting at it. "It was my dad," I tell her. "Probably wanting to know when we're planning to show up on Christmas." I toss the phone onto the coffee table. "I'll call him back tomorrow."

Katniss leans in, kissing my jaw underneath my ear as she snuggles into my side. "What're we watching tonight?"

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I grab my computer, opening it up to my movie selection. "Have you ever seen Inception?" Smiling, Katniss shakes her head. "Well, then you're in for a treat."

So this chapter was a little lighter, but I think really important. Peeta's just now realizing that he needs help, and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with seeking help for his fears. And hopefully, with his example, Katniss will follow suit.

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