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Three Months Prior

My fingers grip his hair this time, my head rolling back as I comply with his wishes. His name leaves my lips with a sudden reprieve—the feeling coursing through my body as his touch falls all around me.

"Peeta," I say sharply with a gasping shudder as his hand migrates to my waist. My entire body seems to tighten, and I can't even bother to be embarrassed at the sounds my body makes. Then, just as I feel closer to release than I ever have been, he stops, pulling upward to press a kiss against my abdomen.

"You stopped…" I comment, a little dumbfounded and more than annoyed. I take a breath, my mouth forming into a scowl as I stare upward at the little room's ceiling.

"What? Were you enjoying that?" he asks me, a little mockingly, the corner of his mouth spreading into a grin.

I pull upward, digging my naked feet into the plush mattress as I force myself to look at him. "Don't mock me," I say, crossing my arms around my chest. "Just because I'm not experienced, because I haven't slept my way through a million debutants and serving girls, doesn't mean you get to-"

"Calm down, Katniss," he says, pulling himself onto the bed and pressing a kiss against my neck. I resist at first, wriggling away from his touch, but then I feel the hardness of him pressing against me… "I was just warming you up," he murmurs against my throat. "Don't worry, I'm not going to...abandon your need."

And then he pulls my body fully against him. Our bodies moving together in a chaotic, near violent, need for each other. I have never felt so desperate before, so needing and empty, as when he tosses his belt on the floor. The moment before he finally enters me feels like a hunger almost worse than any other I have experienced.

Our bodies move in a rhythm - gasps of pleasure are exchanged as he moves inside of me. It feels better this time, and I'm not sure if that's on account of his mouth or it being my second time. There's something more intimate about the encounter now as well. Something about the way his eyes bore into mine, the way his hand pushes into my shoulder as he enters me. He's powerful and pressing, sure, but behind it there is a closeness between us, an understanding that was missing during the encounter of strangers in the woods.

Or maybe I'm just being silly? Maybe the thing I feel now is nothing more than tepid lust and fine sheets?

We are half propped up against the headboard, and mostly clothed, when I feel that tightness return. The weight of his hand seems to press harder into my body with every movement of my mouth or call of his name. My body closes around him, around the tight press of him inside of me, as I find release. It's not seconds later before he follows, hastily pulling out of my body and spilling onto my thigh.

"I told you it would be better this time," he says as I look up at him, my heavy breath near panting as I find my resolve.

"I guess." I wrinkle my nose, the wall of lust falling as I take notice of my sticky thigh and sweat covered brow.

"You guess?" He raises his eyebrow at that. "You guess," he repeats, raising his voice a little. "Sweetheart, that sound you made as you fell beneath me was a lot more than a 'I guess'."

I sniff. "You think too highly of yourself," I say, eyeing the room for something to clean myself up with.

"Here," Peeta says, reaching over into the nightstand and tossing me an odd bit of white cotton with barely a glance.

"Thanks," I reply, turning away from him and cleaning the mark of him off my body. I drop it on the floor afterwards, unsure of what to do with the thing and too scared to ask.

My things sit in a pile on the floor, too far away to reach, so I flop across the bed, grab them, and force my feet into the too small boots.

"So, uh," Peeta runs his fingers through his hair, not moving from his position on the bed. "We're good, right?"

"Yeah." I shrug, pulling my boot laces tighter. "Everything's fine."

"Oh," he says, buttoning up his own clothing as I tie the knot with my laces. "You're not, ya know, mad at me or anything?"

"No," I say with a bite. "I just said that."

"It's just," he glances at me, "you seem…"

"I'm fine, Peeta," I snap, "nothing's wrong. Got it?"

"Okay, okay," he says, raising his hands in mock protest. "How about this, then, we head back to the square and stay for a while, make an appearance, make it look like we have nothing to hide."

I squint at that. "You're the one who said we shouldn't go back…"

"Quite frankly, I only said that because I needed the chance to talk to you," he says with a half grin.

"Yeah," I snort. "Talk, yeah right."

"Look," he bites his lip, "we can head back if we start now." his hand snakes around to mine and he catches my eyes with a gentle look. "Just trust me, alright?"

I kick the leaves underneath my feet as we walk along the stretch of shops towards the bright lights and noise coming from the square.

"Wait, stop—" he says, halting me, as we edge towards the last of the buildings. With little explanation he pulls a silken handkerchief from the recess of his pockets and drops it into the puddle, dirtying it up with the heel of his shoe before retrieving it with his bare fingers.

"Trust me," he says, mimicking his earlier words, as I stare at him incredulously, unsure if he's crazy or wasteful or both.

I just shake my head and resume my walking pace, only stopping when we reach the brick pathway that marks off the square. The people are still milling about as energetic as ever, and the wafting smells of cakes and fineries is delightful as ever, but I still hesitate as we near closer to the town. Unfortunately, I don't have a chance to ask Peeta if we should split up or what, because somebody spots him out of the crowd.

"Mr. Mellark!" A bellowing voice announces, causing several ears to perk up. It's Mayor Undersee, dressed in his best fineries and walking towards us. "And Katniss," he pauses a little, raising an eyebrow, "dear, I believe your mother is looking for you."

"Yes," a nosy voice from somewhere in the crowd picks up, "where have you been."

"Miss Everdeen dropped her father's handkerchief in the gully," he says, dropping the piece of fabric on the table in explanation. "I helped her find it, was hardly going to let the young lady fish it out by herself."

The explanation, though perhaps questionable given he ran after me, must be enough to suit propriety, because Mayor Undersee embraces Peeta, slapping a hand on his back and guiding him towards the heart of the party.

I sit there alone for a while, not bothering to seek out my mother and ignoring the pinched stares of the people moving by. I couldn't stand to be around my mother right now, not after I just had a liaison with Peeta Mellark in a train car.

So instead I sit there, my head resting on my hand as I try to make it through the affair. And then somebody drops down beside me.

"Hey, Katniss," he says, quieter than normal.

"Hey, Peeta," I say, not bothering to look at him. "What do you want?"

"I—" he starts, "would, would you like to dance with me?"

"Dance?" I raise an eyebrow, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It makes us look like we have nothing to hide," he argues, turning towards me. His eyes light up with one of those smiles he's always giving me, the ones that tempt me into doing things like joining him in the train car or giving myself to him in a field. "Besides, nothing wrong with a man asking a lady to dance."

"Fine," I give in, "but only for the sake of respectability."

He grins, accepting my hand and leading me to the dance floor. We sit on the edge of the group waiting for the next call, my dress pressing against his trousers as we make idle chatter, or rather, he makes idle chatter with me. We observe the chaos of laughter and music and gaiety. I try to focus on that chaos, ignoring the looks people give me, ignoring Gale's biting stare from across the square…

When they finally call the next dance out I grab Peeta's hand, dragging him to the front of the line and allowing myself to briefly explain the steps before we get caught up in the crowd.

Peeta's a little heavy on his feet, no doubt, but he keeps up better than I would expect, only tripping occasionally. He's sweet, though, here, harmlessly flirting with the older ladies and tipping me back with laughter as he attempts to master the steps. There's something delirious about it too, something wonderful and painful all at once as I move around with the crowd, as he swings me around and catches me.

I'm not one for dancing, but when the music halts I'm almost disappointed.

Present

"You run off with him? With my child?" He shakes his head, "Money can buy a lot of things, Katniss."

I scoff, his words a painful reminder of the persona he donned when we first met. "Don't be an ass, Peeta."

He snorts, shaking his head and giving a little huff of annoyance. "Oh, I'm being an ass, am I?" he asks, his knuckles turning white as he grips the back of the parlor chair.

"Yes," I say, rolling my eyes, "you are."

"You wish it was him, don't you?" His voice raises, the accusing tone hitting me in the face. "Well guess what, Katniss? You fucked up. If you hated me so much, you should have taken him between your legs instead."

The slap of his words vibrates throughout the room. The shock of silence comes first, our eyes locked together as his mouth opens to say something, then falters.

"I'm, I'm sorry—" he says with the slight shake of his head. "I shouldn't, I shouldn't have said that."

"No," I tell him, a lump forming in the back of my throat, "you shouldn't have."

Author's Note: Thank you all for sticking with this story - what did you think about Peeta and Katniss's interaction here and how do you think their relationship is going to work out in the present era?

As always, you can follow me on tumblr at starveinsafety, everlarkfanfictionclub, and girlonfirerecs. I'm going to recommend you check out my weheartit board for this story at weheartitdotcom/dandelionsandroses. I post a lot of inspiration pics and stuff like that over there, and if you're interested it will help you get a "feel" for the story!