Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Hunger Games universe. I only own my original content. In this particular chapter, I used three sentences from Suzanne Collins. As always, big thank you to my wonderful beta dandelionlass for all her work on this chapter!

Present

Peeta's mouth is on mine before I even have the chance to breathe. I've missed him, I realize, as he leans into me, his body pressing against mine. "I thought," I pull away from him in between kisses, "I thought you were the one who wanted to wait."

"Why Katniss," Peeta grins, "I will have you know that engaged couples kiss all the time. Kissing does not necessarily imply that one must engage in a sexual manner."

"Engage in a sexual manner?" I shake my head at his mocking tone and playfully shove him away from me. "With you it always seems to," I say pointedly.

In response he sighs against my neck, digging his feet into the ground below us as he braces his body against mine. "Well," he lets out with a melodramatic sigh, "you've got me there."

I roll my eyes at that, but when he makes another attempt at my neck I don't stop him. By the time his hand slips to my breast I've given up on teasing him and have committed to the feeling of him fully against my body.

"I should probably head home," Peeta says abruptly a few minutes in, even though his fingers are still pressed against my breast and his other hand is running up my thigh.

"What?" I gape at him, quickly shoving him off of me. "But—"

He cuts me off with a light kiss. "It's late," he says with a devious smile that makes me think the whole thing is intentional, "you better head home. We have a long day ahead of us."

Two Months Prior

"And what about you, Katniss?" Peeta's eyes flit downward. "Are you afraid of me?"

I shrug, barely noticing the way the back of my dress catches onto a loose nail. "I should be," I tell him. "I have no reason not to."

My response seems to irk him and he lets out an airy, almost disbelieving, breath as he responds. "No reason?" he asks, his voice harsh and flat yet still somehow imperceptibly incredulous. "Have the past few weeks, what we've done together…shouldn't they mean something?"

I'm surprised that the last part seems less rhetorical than I'd expect, but I shrug again, yanking angrily at the caught threads around my collar in distraction. "It's just sex, Peeta. I thought we'd established that."

His lips tighten at that, but he gives me an almost accepting nod nonetheless. "Alright, Katniss," he says, a flat smile forming. "I suppose there is nothing else that can be said on my part."

I turn from him, facing body in other direction. "It's up there," I tell him, pointing to the wooden crate of medical supplies.

At that he reaches from behind me, his body momentarily surrounding me as he leans forward and pulls the crate down with ease. He doesn't seem to think ahead, however, because I end up trapped between his frame and the supplies box. "Peeta," I grit out anxiously as I make an attempt to duck from beneath him.

"Oh," he flusters, quickly placing the box on the ground and letting me through. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

I'm facing him now, my back braced against a half-rotted support beam I should have replaced ages ago. "It's fine," I say, staring at a dusty spot on the ground.

"Can't you look at me?" Peeta's voice cracks on the question. "Or is that against the rules?"

"Peeta," I sigh, crossing my arms, "don't. Please."

"No," he stands a little straighter at that, readjusting his shoulders in an almost offensive stance. If he was anyone else I'd expect him to strike at something from the stance he's taken.

"No?" I raise an eyebrow at that, turning my head up the slightest bit.

His lips are chapped and I notice the slightest bit of stubble forming across his face. "No," he repeats, "I at least deserve for you to look at me. If you hate me, fine. That's your prerogative, Katniss." He swallows. "But don't tell me I haven't, at the very least, earned the right to have you look me in the eyes and tell me how it is between us. Maybe you're right, maybe the sex was merely that, but over the past few weeks I have spent enough time in your company to be entitled to the position of acquaintance. So look at me, Katniss. Spit in my face, tell me you never want to see me again. I don't care, just look at me."

I do. And it's something in the familiarity of his body, or the closeness of his breath, that makes me respond the way I do. Or maybe it's the way his chest is squared against mine, or how he stares at me, waiting, with those eyes. Either way, I find myself gripping at the lapels of his coat, and before I even have a chance to stop and think I'm pulling his lips down against mine.

His face is cold, his lips wet with a sprinkling of snow. It takes a while for him to respond, but after a few seconds he catches on, his still bloodied hands grabbing at my waist and pressing me against the wall. I fall into it for a moment, we both do, but then I feel his fingers softly cupping my cheek and it all comes back to me. Then my thoughts are with Gale, with all the reasons we shouldn't be doing this.

I shove Peeta away from me with a nearly violent jerk. He fumbles backwards in response, his head banging against a shelf. "You should go," I tell him as I try to catch my breath.

His jaw tightens, and he runs his hand instinctively against the spot where a bump will most likely form. "Yeah," he says as he pulls at a blonde curl, "I guess I should."

He swallows at that and in the silence of the moment our eyes lock. I feel his gaze on me then, awkward and intense, as I try not to stare at the redness of his cheeks or the way his shoulders seem to sag.

"Yeah," I finally reply, "you should."

I trudge back to the house only after I'm sure Peeta's gone ahead of me. The medical supplies are heavy, but I manage to drag into the kitchen with little fuss.

"Mr. Mellark left?" my mother asks, surprised, when I drop the crate on the edge of the counter.

I nod in response, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yeah, he had to leave."

My mother narrows her eyes at me, a pinched expression forming across her forehead. "Well, I hope you gave him my gratitude. He may have very well saved Gale's life."

"He may have very well killed him," I mutter just under my breath. Saying the words out loud stings. I'm not even sure if I have a right to blame Peeta for what happened, but that part of me that wants to hate him is oddly soothed by the thought.

"What was that?" she asks, her hands kneading into a mixture of snow and some kind of herbal remedy.

"Nothing," I reply sharply, shaking my head. "Here, let me help you with that."

I fall asleep beside Gale that night, stay with him long after Rory has brought the kids home and Hazelle's passed out on the settee. I squeeze his hand the entire night, even though I'm certain he has no idea I'm even here. After a while, my fingers find his face. I touch parts of him I have never had cause to touch before. His heavy, dark eyebrows, the curve of his cheek, the line of his nose, the hollow at the base of his neck. I trace the outline of stubble on his jaw and finally work my way to his lips. Soft and full, slightly chapped like Peeta's. His breath warms my chilled skin.

For the first time I really stop and think about what I have done with Peeta. Maybe it's the way Gale looks broken over my kitchen counter, or just being in my house for once. In the woods or the train it never seemed so distinct, the difference between the two of us, but now I know. I was being selfish, incredibly, foolishly selfish when I slept with Peeta. I knew it too, but I continued to carry on with him out of what, lust, greed?

It's not until next morning, not until long after the train to the Capitol has left, that I find what Peeta has left me. I'm still half asleep when my mother summons me out to the shed for a bottle of medical alcohol. When I first spot the parcel, I think I might be delusional. The bright floral paper it's wrapped in looks so out of place among the dusty boxes and dull equipment. But it's there even after I take a couple seconds to blink, two whole dollars and a stack of envelopes slipped between a couple of shelves. There's no note attached, just an address scrawled across a slip of paper, but it doesn't take long to figure out who it's from or what it's for.

I almost consider writing to him. Then, when I decide not to, I make a promise to send the money back to him. But it's another two weeks before Gale is well enough to walk on his own. My mother says he's lucky to be alive, much less doing as well as he is.

I don't see it that way. With Gale not working, things are harder than ever. I keep the two dollars pinned in my pockets, hesitant to let that kind of money out of my sight. It's about a week or so in when I spend the first dollar. Posy needs new shoes and there's not enough grain to make it through the months it will take Gale to get better. I figure I can write Peeta, and return the rest of the money, with the last dollar.

I end up breaking the second dollar a week later when the stove breaks. It's not like we can't eat, after all. Next thing I know mother wants to buy some kind of ointment for Gale. She doesn't bother asking where I got the money when I hand her the last of it.

It's after that, when my mother announces that she thinks it will be another week before Gale will be able to make it to the mines, that I start to panic. With Peeta's money gone I have no safety net. What will happen if one of the children gets sick? Or better yet, I get sick?

There's no point in worrying much about it though. Instead, I figure I better stock up on meat while I can. Without Gale to help it will be that much harder, and I ought to make a decent bit of savings before the ground freezes up and money becomes even tighter than it already is.

Out of desperation, I decide to spend a night or two out in the woods. Most of the land near the Seam has been picked dry in preparation for winter, so I figure the hike is worth the game. Not like I really have a choice or anything. At the end of the day, both my family and Gale's have to eat. I end up going farther than Peeta and I did that night, farther than I usually go, even on days with Gale.

The solitude is nicer than I expect it to be. It's easier, I find, being as far away from Gale as possible. Back home I have to stare at his blood stained across the kitchen counter or think about the papers hidden underneath the shed.

So the trip works out. I make out alright as well, even catch a wild turkey a couple hours out from the cabins. It's only when I've filled my game bag to the brim that I finally resolve to head back. After all, no point in even coming out here if my wares are spoiled by the time they're up for sale.

As I walk back towards town, game swung across my shoulder, I try not to think about what happened last time I caught a turkey. The thought makes my stomach want to curl into knots, and it's something about the smell, or the thought of Gale's face smashed against the town square, that reduces me to puking in the bushes along the edge of the mercantile quarter.

I try to clean up as best as I can before heading into the general store and attempting to make a sale. The owner doesn't go for it, but he points me in the direction of Mayor Undersee's office.

"Man just bought out my entire stock of sugar," he tells me with a shrug, "having a party or something-might have use for that turkey of yours."

I thank him for the tip before heading out to the mayor's office. Undersee's sitting over some papers when I enter, a collection of paper bagged goods resting at the foot of his desk.

"Hear you're having a party," I say as I greet him, smoothing out the lines of my dress with my hands. "Madge's birthday?" I ask as I try to recall what day her's fell around.

He shakes his head. "Didn't you hear?" Mayor Undersee looks at me. "Peeta Mellark arrived by train this morning."

I freeze on instinct. "Peeta Mellark?" I squeak, my voice hoarse. "Are you sure?"

Undersee smiles a little. "I'm quite sure, Katniss dear." He laughs. "Why, I saw him this morning. In fact, Mr. Mellark is set to meet with me later this afternoon. Apparently the man wants to build the district, make it part of a bigger line or something along that."

I relax slightly at that. As silly as it might be, for a moment I worried that Peeta had come back on my account rather than for business. "Of course," I reply curtly, "I'm sure that will be great for the town."

"That it will," the mayor replies jovially. "Now, Katniss, what do you have to sell to me?"

At that I swing my game bag around and produce the turkey. "It's fresh," I tell him. "I caught it just this morning."

Undersee brightens visibly. "Wonderful," he says as he produces the coins from a drawer in his desk. "I can hardly take it right now, but if you head down to my house the girl in the back will make arrangements for the bird. How about that?"

I thank him as I count the coins. I'm so anxious, so desperate to get out of here and be as far away as possible, that I don't notice the man in the doorway. It's only when I run smack dab into him and look up to apologize that I catch sight of the blonde hair and firm, familiar jaw.

Peeta's about as incredulous as I am. "Katniss?"

Author's Note: Ooh, Peeta's back! What do you think he's going to do - and better yet, why is he back in town?

As always, you can follow me on tumblr at starveinsafety, everlarkfanfictionclub, and girlonfirerecs. Remember to check out mores2sl on tumblr, I'm going to be donating a story to that collection!