She is all I've wanted since I was five years old, yet now all I want is to say no. Please no. But I'm aware of the Capitol's close eye, and I know she's right. It still hurts though, because she is sacrificing her life for me. Again.

But we decide, I'll propose for the cameras and she'll fake it, looking thrilled and in love, although I'll be putting out enough for both if us since Katniss can't act.

I can't blame her, and I have no right to be angry at her. I quietly leave the room. I hear her behind me,

"I thought he wanted it anyway."

Haymitch answers her,

"Not like this. He wanted it to be real."

Haymitch knew even before I had the guts to tell him. He had Cinna and Portia present us as a team from the very beginning. He knows everything about me, and he knows exactly what's bothering me now.

I don't allow my door to slam behind me, as she had when I originally confessed my love for her, because I don't want her to think I'm angry with her. This isn't her fault. She's keeping us alive once more.

I slump down on my bed. My shoulders are hunched and I feel more dejected than the day I found out she's been faking it all and didn't really love me.

Everything I've ever wanted is staring me in the face but to be happy about it is to betray her. She doesn't want it, and I shouldn't either.

My prep team arrives and begin getting me ready for the interview tonight. They babble on and don't take any notice of my despondency. I tell myself it's good, since that would lead to questions I can't answer.

When Portia comes in, she dismisses the prep team and says, "What's on your mind?" She's able to read me better than anyone but Haymitch.

I decide to confide in her. "I'm asking her to marry me today."

"During the interview?"

"Yeah."

"Haymitch's idea?"

I look down at the floor as I mutter, "No. Hers."

She cups her hand under my chin and gently lifts up my face.

"That's a bad thing?"

"Yes, it is bad! Its so hard, Portia, knowing she's only going to say yes because she can't say no. I wanted it to be quiet, romantic. Just me and her. I want her to have the option to say no, but to say yes anyway. I just..." My voice goes out and I whisper, "I just want her to love me." I stop myself before I start crying. She doesn't say anything, and I realize it's because she can't assure me that Katniss loves me, because she doesn't. She adds finishing touches to my makeup and hair, loving me in her own way, and I start to feel better, knowing at least somebody on this planet cares a little bit about me.

"I love you, and I believe in you. You'll be dazzling." She gives my hand a squeeze.

"I hope so," I mumble as Portia moves around, pulling out my clothes for the interview.

We are silent then, and when she's done she gives me a big hug and a kiss on my cheek. "You'll be perfect, sweetie. Katniss is a lucky girl, even if she doesn't realize it yet." She whispers into my ear. I wonder idly if Portia is what mothers are usually like, encouraging and hopeful when you've given up.

Katniss is already in the room when I arrive. I catch my breath. Cinna has once again outdone himself. Katniss is ravishing. Cinna has muted the color scheme to something more earthy, with a rich rust red, still appearing like its burning. I'm still overwhelmed as I cross over to her, taking her hands and kissing them softly. She smiles encouragingly. If only it was real. I keep having to tell myself to not fall for her act again while we're in front of the cameras. I fell too far last time and look at me now. We go through the questions, Katniss tucked into my side. It feels so real. I almost lose myself a few times, before I remember the awful reality. Acting. She is giggling and giving simple answers whenever she must speak. I take the lead, like always, but I don't really know what I'm saying. Caesar is reacting well, taking my cues, and I feel the words coming out, and I hear the sounds they make, the reactions of the massive audience, but my mind is lost in the imminent proposal lurking above me. The nerves I should feel are drowned in despair that I'll never have this questioned answered by Katniss, but instead by the Capitol. I feel Katniss sinking deeper into me, sure she can feel my heart pounding, and know that it's time. When I catch Caesar saying the word future, I drop to my good knee on the floor before her, taking her hand in both of mine. Their are gasps and shrieks of excitement from behind me. I feel like it's something I just have to get done. To move on to the next torment. What's next, answering questions where Katniss spills forth things that sound good but that I force myself to realize aren't true, demolishing what remains of my heart? The Capitol taking photo and video documentation of my real feelings and Katniss's act, rubbing it in my face that it's all been an act from the very start? I think I just did both of those. The tears escaping my eyes were very real and had nothing to do with the words coming from my lips.

Katniss is looking down at me with the deep, loving eyes she tries to put on for the cameras, a look of surprise mixed with joy on her face. Katniss is a terrible, terrible actress, but with her performance tonight, she almost has even me convinced. I guess she's finally getting the hang of it.

Or maybe...

I push the thought away, working desperately to ignore it. I couldn't let myself think that, it would be too hard later.

But...

I shove it back forcefully. I can't afford to consider it. Try thinking of anything else. Focus on my words as I'm speaking them... But if returns. A small voice deep down inside of me, the little boy in me is still hopeful, the last piece of Peeta that the Capitol hasn't trampled on and beaten down.

Maybe she really is excited, even just a little.

The moment the thought melts its way back into my consciousness, tears of hope begin to fill my eyes. I feel her free hand brush my cheek, fingers gently wiping the escaping tears from my skin, while her other hand squeezes mine. She smiles down at me, it feels so genuine, so real, that everything I am comes pouring from my mouth, unstoppable. My very being out for her to see.

"Katniss. The singing girl on the first day of school. The one whose voice made birds grow silent as the listened. For years, I dreamt of the day I would have built up enough courage to just say hi to you. And back then, I never thought I would have a chance to say what I'm saying now. Even as a tribute for the Hunger Games, I was happier than I had ever been, because suddenly I could talk to you, I could spend time with you, and I could protect you. Everything I did in the arena, I thought of you. All I wanted was to keep you safe, keep you alive, because you are all that matters to me. It was only a crush when we were reaped, but after nearly losing you so many times, I know I'm in love with you, Katniss Everdeen. You're everything I've ever wanted, and I've never let myself think that today would ever come – when I love you more than anything and you're here in front of me, the second half of my heart." I pause to catch my breath, ignoring the stab of pain bought by my last words. My sweaty palms still encase her hand, and she smiles wider, a single tear escaping with my words. She is acting this out splendidly. I do not let myself hope that it's the alternative. Finally, I finish.

"I want nothing more than to spend every day of the rest of my life with you, Katniss." I pause again, knowing what I'm about to say really isn't fair. "Tell me you love me, Katniss. Tell me yes. Will you marry me?" It's not fair, I shouldn't make her say she loves me out loud. She won't be able to, she can't lie to my face, nobody will believe her. I should be content that she offered to marry me, even just for the cameras.

But my poor starved heart longs to hear it. From her. Even if I know it's not real.

The room is dead silent, the occupants holding their breath, waiting for her answer. All I can hear is my own heart, beating too fast, too hard, as if it wants to escape from its prison behind my ribs, knowing the Capitol's answer but wondering why she's taking so long to speak it. She changed her mind. She's not going to do it. She can't imagine living with me for the rest of our lives, she can't give that much up.

But her response surprised the viewers, making them love her and me and our little fake romance. SHE is making them think we're in love, instead of me, this time. I feel myself being convinced along with the rest of Panem. The hand she had kept on my cheek throughout my proposal had shot up to her mouth as her jaw dropped open at the final question. I immediately missed its comfort, somehow keeping my cracked heart from bursting into tiny shards.

It's all a show.

A yes is from the Capitol. Not from her.

Don't let yourself hope.

I was taken by her performance, and reminded myself it was just that, a performance, working harder than I'd anticipated needing to.

It's not real.

Her words shocked me. She said it. And I believed her.

"I love you, Peeta." she whispered, "Yes." throwing her arms around my neck, knocking me to the ground.

I fell for it once more, harder and deeper than the last time. I didn't stop to think of what would happen later, what would be left when the cameras were gone. I didn't consider the consequences of being happy.

My heart fused itself back together by replaying over and over her declaration.

"I love you, Peeta. I love you, Peeta. I love you, Peeta. Yes."

Every cell in my body, every fiber of my being believed her. She really does love me, she said so herself; I berated myself for ever questioning it.

Someone on this planet truly loves and cares about me.

I thought of how I could spend the rest of my life with her. She said yes, and I can't help feeling happy.

Throughout the party, she and I ate, greeted people, danced, and she seemed beside herself with happiness, and that made my heart swell with joy that I was the one making her happy like this.

It wasn't until I am alone in my room on the train, not basking in Katniss's presence, not convinced by her crazed smile and girlish giggles, that it hits me what I've let myself believe. I was halfway out of my suit, my jacket and shoes on the floor behind me and my shirt mostly off when I come to my senses.

I stop falling for the act and hit the cold hard ground of reality.

It's not real.

I don't make it to my bed. My heart shattered with the impact and I crumpled up into a tight ball right there on the floor, crying like a child. I realized that I am a child, 16 years old, a young, broken murderer who is in love with the Girl on Fire. I cried until I had no more tears left in me, and finally dropped to sleep.

I woke up when an avox shook my shoulder, looking at me with such sympathy, I was sure he knew it wasn't real. Nobody was around, so I risked speaking in a hushed voice.

"Did that really happen? Am I engaged to her?" He only nodded. I sighed and curled up again, the emptiness in my chest making me realize that my fall had destroyed the remains of my heart.

He patted my shoulder and pulled me up, handing me a shirt and pair of pants that showed Portia's taste. I took them gratefully and he left the room and I dressed. It was only 2:30, so I crept into Katniss's room and climbed in with her, glad that at least I can keep her nightmares at bay, if nothing else. She would never really be happy with me. It wasn't her fault she'd damaged me beyond repair. It was my fault for believing what I saw and being happy about it.

It all was not real.