Who do I go to first? Katniss or my father? What can I even say to either of them that hasn't already been said?

I walk slowly back through the train, hoping that by the time I reach either Katniss or my father I will have some idea of what I will say, but I am having difficulty gathering my thoughts. The spirits Haymitch gave me have left my head feeling a little fuzzy.

I reach the door to my father's room first. I pause before knocking to steady myself; the gentle rocking of the train seems to exacerbate and amplify my own swaying movements. How does Haymitch drink that stuff so freely, when just a few sips have left me this way?

My knock is soon answered as my father opens the door. He looks at me with a slight frown on his face and sniffs the air. "Have you been drinking?" he asks, his voice full of stern authority. I nod meekly. "Hmm. That Haymitch should know better, giving liquor to a kid." His expression changes to one of regret as he sighs. "My boy's growing up. Come in." I perch on the edge of his bed, while he sits in an armchair by the window. "I always looked forward to the day I'd be able to share a beer with all of my sons. Doesn't look like that's going to happen now."

"Don't say that, dad…"

"I'm not trying to be depressive. Just realistic. My chances aren't good, son. I'm not a killer."

"Neither was I!" I say in my defence.

He smiles at me. "No. And I'm so proud of you. Maybe I'll get lucky, eh?" He stands up. "How's about that beer? Do you think I'll be able to find us one on this train?" He walks past me, ruffling my hair as he goes. I collapse backwards on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and as I think of all the time that has been stolen from us I feel the tears pricking at my eyes again. Presently my father returns clutching two opened bottles, and I hastily sit up straight and wipe my face clear. He hands one of the bottles to me, chinks his own against mine and says, "Cheers," before knocking back a slug and sighing appreciatively.

I take a swig and almost have to spit it straight back out. It's simultaneously both bitter and sweet, wet and dry, and the bubbles shoot straight up the back of my throat. I look at my dad who chuckles at the sight. "You'll learn to love it," he says with a grin. I take a more cautious sip, still wincing at the taste, but at least I manage to hold it down. With each sip the taste becomes more bearable, and I am soon nearing the end of the bottle.

The alcohol is making me melancholy; dad clearly notices this to be the case as he takes the bottle from my hands, rests it on a table and sits on the bed next to me. He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a hug. I curl up on the bed and rest my head on his lap while he strokes my hair. He hasn't held me this way in years. If only there was a way to turn the clock back; to recapture those innocent years. "Tell me a story," I say.

The request seems to take him by surprise, "A story, you say? Hmmmm…. Did I ever tell you about the magic soup stone?"

"No," I say, as I close my eyes.

"Well, once upon a time in a far away land, a kindly young lad was trying to escape from the cruel kingdom he lived in. Where he lived all the people were selfish and greedy, and wouldn't lift a finger to help anyone else, but he'd heard of a neighbouring kingdom, where all the people were good and kind, and he knew that was where he wanted to live.
He packed a bag with some food and all his money (which wasn't much) and he set out on his journey. His food ran out after he'd been walking for three days, but he still had a little money to buy more. The people in the kingdom were cruel, and seeing how desperate he was charged him over the odds, and soon his money ran out too. He was tired and hungry, and he stumbled from door to door begging for help, but the people just kept slamming the door in his face.
He began to think all hope was lost, but he was clever and resourceful, and he thought of the land that awaited him and was determined he would get there. There was one last house to try before he would have to move on to the next town. As he stumbled towards it he noticed a smooth, round pebble on the floor which he picked up and put in his pocket.
He knocked on the door, and a miserly, cold and wicked old woman answered the door. 'What do you want?' she demanded.
'I was hoping to trade with you,' said the lad. 'I have here a magic stone that transforms water into soup. I'll show you how it works, and I will give you the stone in exchange for a single bowl of the soup that it makes.'
Now of course the old woman was very sceptical of the young lad, and wanted proof that the stone did what he said it would…. You still with me, Peet?"

"Hmmm," I reply, "Just listening." I had been on the verge of falling asleep, but I don't want to miss this; this recreation of being a carefree child again, with no burdens and no responsibilities…. "Keep going."

"Where was I?"

"The woman wanted proof the stone was magic."

"Yes…. So, she invited him inside and told him to give her the stone. He handed it over to her and told her to fill a saucepan with water and place the stone inside. 'Now all you have to do is tell it clearly what kind of soup you want, and it will make it.' What do you reckon, Peet? What kind of soup will the stone make?"

"What did you make me the other day?"

"Leek and potato."

"Yeah. That."

"Leek and potato it is then. So the old woman leant over the saucepan and said in a clear voice, 'Leek and potato!' And she took a spoon and tasted the soup. 'This is just water with a stone in it!' she shouted at the young lad. She was furious, but the lad was quick and clever. 'Really?' he replied. He tasted it himself and said, 'Hmmmm, maybe it just needs a little seasoning. Maybe some salt and pepper to bring out the flavours.'
So the old woman put salt and pepper in the saucepan, and the lad invited her to try it again. 'This is just water with a stone and some salt and pepper in it!' screeched the woman. The lad tried it again and said, 'Hmmmm. Maybe it just needs a little stock to round it out.'
So the old woman put some stock in the saucepan, and the lad invited her to try it again. 'This is just water with a stone and some salt and pepper and stock in it!' screeched the old woman. The young lad tried it again and said, 'Hmmmmm. Maybe it just needs some onions, carrots, leeks and potatoes to flesh it out.'
So the old woman busied herself peeling onions, chopping potatoes, slicing leeks and dicing carrots, and she put them all in the saucepan, and the young lad invited her to try it again. 'This is just water with a stone and some salt and pepper and stock and onions and carrots and leeks and potatoes in it!' she screeched. The young lad tried it again and said, 'Hmmmm. Maybe it just needs to be warmed up, nice and slowly.'
So the old woman lit the stove and placed the saucepan on top, and under the careful instruction of the young lad, the saucepan slowly came to the boil but he told the old woman to be patient, as the stone needed time to really work its magic, and eventually her kitchen was filled with the delicious smell of fresh soup. 'It's a miracle!' she exclaimed as she served up a bowl for herself and another for the young lad. 'The stone really does work!'
The boy ate every mouthful of his soup and bade her farewell, and as he walked down the road to the next town he spotted a smooth round pebble on the ground, which he picked up and put in his pocket."

I am almost asleep. "Did he ever m-make it to the other kingdom?" I ask while stifling a yawn.

"I'm sure of it."

"Good. Thanks, dad."

"Come on, son, sit up. You don't want to fall asleep in here." I force myself up in to an upright position . "There's something else I've been wanting to talk to you about," he says, and a serious tone has made its way back in to his voice. "Katniss."

My heart hammers furiously on the inside of my ribcage. "What about her?"

"Don't let her slip through your fingers, son. Don't push her away and spend your life regretting it."

"Are you…." I am unsure how to phrase what I want to say. "Are you saying you regret being with mum?"

"No! Oh, no, son, no, no, no…. She gave me you three, she gave me the best thing I ever did with my life! But you could have all that with the right woman, and I don't want you to throw that away. You should go to her."

"I don't know what to say to her."

"Say you're sorry."

"But I haven't done anything wrong!" I protest.

Dad laughs at this "Doesn't matter, she'll accept it and you'll be talking again, and before you know it she'll apologise for whatever has upset you. I guarantee it."

"I don't know if words can make it up. She….she really hurt me, dad." I hate how young and insecure this makes me sound.

"Then let her try to make it up to you with her actions. Don't just give up. Please. For me?" I nod briefly as dad pulls me into a hug once more. "Go to her," he says again.

I am ushered towards the exit with still no clear idea of what to say to her. My feet seem to be working on automatic pilot as I near her rooms; I couldn't turn around now if I tried. "Katniss?" I call out as I knock on her door. She opens the door almost immediately but remains silent. "May I come in?"

She stands back to allow me entry, and quietly closes the door behind me. Before I am even able to open my mouth she says, "Peeta, I'm sorry." She has thrown me. I don't know how to respond and I can't seem to make eye contact with her. "I thought you understood what I wanted, I thought I made it clear when I said I wanted my first time to be my choice. I'm sorry."

"I wanted you to want me. Not just that you had access to me. I wanted you to want to be with me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

There is a question I have to ask, one that has been plaguing me more than anything else. "Did you come to me because you knew I'd do what you wanted? Would you have preferred someone else?" I can't bring myself to say his name. "Please be honest with me."

She doesn't answer immediately, and this tells me everything I need to know. I try to walk past her to leave but she blocks my path. "Peeta, wait. It's not what you think."

"Did you ask him first?"

"No!"

"But you would have preferred him."

"No. I don't know what I want, Peeta. But I don't think of Gale like that. Not at all."

"And how do you think of me?"

Again she doesn't answer immediately. "You make me feel whole." She steps a little closer to me. "I was so frightened to lose you after your mother…. It felt like the better part of me was lying in that bed. It felt like….if you never woke up I'd never be whole again." She takes another small step towards me and rests her hand against my chest. My heart hammers against my ribcage at her touch. Her free hand slowly snakes up behind me as her fingers play with my hair at the nape of my neck. Unwittingly my eyes flutter closed and without realising how close she has come I feel her lips press in to mine, gently at first then increasing in urgency. My mind is torn. Do I respond or not? Is she playing me for a fool again, or does it require a near death experience to make her understand her own feelings? I take a chance on the latter and wrap my arms around her slender waist, pulling her as close to me as I can. In turn she responds by deepening our kiss, her tongue gently probing my own. I am certain that she must be able to feel my arousal pressing in to her, and this is confirmed when her hand drops to my erection, her fingers lightly running over me through my clothes.

It takes every last ounce I have of self-control to break away from her. "I can't," I manage to gasp out. "Not yet. Just give me time, ok?"

The look of disappointment on her face almost overrides my resolve to take things slower this time. "Ok," she says as she plants one last gentle kiss on my lips.

I head back to my own room to try and make sense of everything. I know that sleep will not come tonight; I am too fearful for my father's safety. Too confused about my feelings for Katniss, and about her feelings for me…. I turn the lights off and lie back on my bed watching the ceiling, feeling the gentle sway of the train, and dreading the inevitable arrival of morning.

A/N – I kinda felt Peeta deserved a little bit of a break after all the angst I've been putting him through, so here's a bittersweet fluffy chapter for you all. As you can imagine, it's not going to get easier with the Games coming up! Please leave a review as they make me write faster ;)