A/N: Bam! Fast update, hey?

You guys are brilliant! Your responses to the last chapter made my day, loved the detail in your reviews. So, thank you!

This one is short and sweet but unexpectedly one of my favourites to write. Enjoy!

Saturday July 2nd 2016 – The Capitol

Without ever intending to, or talking about it for that matter, I found myself in a relationship with Darius. We didn't have the "exclusive" talk, but it wasn't that hard to figure out. He spent half of the nights of the week at my apartment, so much that we'd created a co-existing morning routine. He knew the location of the coffee and the muesli in the kitchen and how to make me a cup exactly the way I liked it. We had silently agreed upon an order to use the bathroom. We'd go to lunch sometimes on the weekends, or on a walk through the city. He'd send me texts with a joke while I was at work or a short sweet message just to wish me good morning. We did things you didn't do if you were just in it for sex.

So on Saturday morning, when I wake up, swallowed in the warmth of his arms, I am not surprised, hungover, or momentarily confused. I am content.

Unfortunately, he has a shift today, and soon slips into the bathroom to take a shower, leaving me to snuggle further into the covers to try and maintain the warmth I've suddenly lost.

Depending on the time we both wake up, sometimes we'd have breakfast together, however today is not one of those days. He dashes about the apartment as I doze in the bed, pulling on his uniform and removing his phone from the charger. When I hear him putting on his shoes in the lounge room, I force myself from the bed, pulling on his t-shirt from yesterday which is still on the floor.

Rubbing sleep from my eyes and my hair still knotted from the night before, I lean against the doorframe by the lounge room waiting for him to finish.

"Good morning, sleepy." He says with that boyish grin that is so charming on him.

I smile sleepily and lean in as he presses a quick kiss to my lips. "Have a good day." I say. His answering grin causes the corners of my mouth to lift up further.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

I watch him fondly from the lounge room as he goes to the front door, pulling it open, throwing one last smile over his shoulder as he steps through the entryway. However, before he can pass through, he stops abruptly with a noise of surprise, his body jolting backwards quickly as something blocks his path. The whole thing is rather comical, my first instinct expecting the block to be Prim coming home for something, until the name falls from his lips.

"Peeta!"

No fucking way.

What is Peeta doing here?!

"Uh…" I hear Peeta mutter, obviously just as confused as the rest of us, "is Katniss here?"

I glance down at the oversized t-shirt I'm wearing, that is very obviously Darius'. Not exactly appropriate clothes for a morning social call. I feel my cheeks reddening as I have no choice but to step into the hall and lean against the edge of the door.

"Hey." I put a fake smile on my face, attempting to hide the embarrassment, and greet Peeta as casually as I can.

Darius, who doesn't look nearly as mortified as I feel, looks from me to him then shrugs, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I'll see you later." He bids Peeta a cheery goodbye and then is hurrying down the steps towards the Victor's Village apartment complex, no doubt the exact place Peeta had come from. Apparently, he isn't fazed by the sudden, and early, appearance of a hot blonde man at my door.

Glancing at me, Peeta rubs the back of his neck, obviously a little embarrassed too, though he isn't the one that is half naked. "Sorry, it's probably a bit early for a Saturday. I didn't think about that."

"Okay." I think I meant to say it's okay but it doesn't come out like that.

He stands there for a second, not speaking. I briefly wonder whether he's taking me up on my offer to talk about his mother's court case, however, considering that talk was a month ago I'm doubtful. The last time I'd actually seen him, he'd been at the United office pursuing Leevy for something, I didn't know what. Then, he'd looked tired and a little stressed and today is not so different, making me curious to what is plaguing him. This morning he stands in front of me, fully dressed with dark circles under his eyes, suggesting he hasn't been sleeping well. He's holding a shoebox in front of him with both hands and his expression is almost…disappointed. The whole thing is so peculiar, my embarrassment morphs to curiosity.

"Why are you here?"

He presses his lips together, glancing behind him, down the stairs that Darius had used to leave, thinking over his response.

"I'm returning these."

The shoebox is thrust toward me. I involuntarily take it, in the way you do to anything that is offered toward you abruptly. My hands automatically shoot out and the box is passed over.

"What is it?"

"Some things of yours I found."

My curiosity rises because the statement is ridiculous. My things? How did he have things that were mine? We so rarely had anything to do with each other anymore.

"I thought I'd return them," he continues, "since I'm leaving today."

"Leaving?"

He hesitates again, completely out of character for him. "I'm moving out of the Capitol."

"With Madge?"

"No."

The word is hard and short. Final. It begs no question about its meaning. The sleepless look now makes more sense as well as his visit to United two weeks prior. They had broken up.

How on earth did the perfect power couple - the one that was due to get married at any moment - fall apart? Despite my own feelings there had never been a question in my mind that Madge had been a good match for Peeta. A perfect match for Peeta. They were so alike.

Though, clearly something had driven them apart.

"Peeta…" I want to say I'm sorry but the shock clouds the rational part of my mind and the words don't come forward.

"I need to get going." He tells me and I'm still so muddled I don't have a response. He looks at me a final time. "I…" I wait with baited breath, wanting so badly to hear what he has to say. However, the words don't come. I see indecision flickers in his eyes and the words die on his lips.

"Bye Katniss. Take care." The words are soft, solemn and final. They make my stomach clench and I want to call him back, to invite him inside, to ask him questions, to talk with that normal rapport we'd slowly rebuilt over the previous weeks, but I can't do any of it.

Let him go, a small voice in my head tells me. What good can I do for him anyway?

"I'll see you around." My words sound slightly flat. False. We both know I won't be seeing him around.

The whole exchange lasts perhaps a mere minute and in what feels like the blink of an eye, I'm standing alone in the doorway of my apartment, wrapped in only a man's t-shirt, a worn shoebox clutched in my grasp. Alone.

I shut the door and lean against the wooden panel, slowly sliding down to the floor with the box in my hands. The significance of our conversation has not fully registered in my sleep addled brain. My heart beats faster, dread flowing through my body, as I remove the cardboard lid.

A lip balm.

A dark blue bottle of nail polish.

A small series of photographs.

Old sunglasses.

A lecture pad.

A simple silver ring.

Everything is old, remnants of my college days, apart from the ring. I take the ring, turning it over in my fingers. I'd been looking for it for a while, confused by its disappearance from my jewellery box. How did Peeta have this? I didn't have this in college. It had been gifted to me by Finnick a year later. I close my eyes, trying to imagine how this had come into his possession but I come up blank. I can't remember.

The rest of the box baffles me even further. These things aren't important, they can easily be thrown away. They are three, nearly four, years old, yet, Peeta has kept them all this time.

Why?

The answer my mind conjures up causes my lower lip to tremble.

Sitting in the hall, knees bent to my chest with the box nestled in between, tears begin to fall from my eyes, creating tracks on my cheeks, that soon turn into full blown sobs, echoing in the empty hall, as I gradually realize that I've just said my final goodbye to Peeta Mellark, and despite everything that happened, he still cared after all this time.

000

Over the coming days, I slowly piece together what happened. Leevy doesn't give much away, no doubt out of respect for mine and Peeta's complicated past, but I get the feeling she isn't too surprised, which further piques my curiosity, which is already pretty high to begin with. Darius confirms that Peeta no longer inhabits the apartment complex and he has yet to see Madge enter or exit either. He notes that he doesn't think it's been sold as there's no new inhabitant and he hasn't seen it listed in the property guides either. He still doesn't know the details of my previous relationship with Peeta but by now, it no longer seems so relevant. Maybe another time it'll naturally emerge and I'll be ready to tell him.

Although I gather these tidbits of information, Annie ends up being the goldmine. At first I'm hesitant to ask her, worried I'm out of line or that it'll push me over the edge of the emotional rollercoaster I'm already riding, however I suspect she senses my need to know, as she offers up the topic rather freely. The answer is much simpler than I had imagined. I don't push the topic too far, don't demand details, it would be too much. The thought of the shoebox still causes my throat to constrict and I realize I'm feeling only a taste of what he probably had when I'd left all those years ago.

It's a few days later, however, that I receive more information, details that I never asked for, from the most surprising person involved in this drama.

Madge Undersee herself.

I'm hurrying into the United building on a Tuesday morning, my feet already hurting in my heels, my face bare and my hair tied into the messiest – and not at all stylish – possible version of a bun. I woke up late, didn't set my alarm and I didn't even have my normal human alarm of Darius waking me up that morning. I'm rushing through the lobby toward the elevator, despairingly coffee-less, when I bump my shoulder into someone I haven't seen. I stop, despite my rush, rambling an apology when I recognize her.

Immaculate blonde hair, bright blue eyes, perfect make up, expensive clothes. The woman to inherit the Undersee fortune and the company, United. The ex of Peeta Mellark.

"Sorry Madge," I smile tightly, "bad morning."

She smiles kindly, seemingly unperturbed. "It's alright."

Nodding my head, I turn around ready to continue my rush to the elevator when she unexpectedly calls my name. Wary, I turn back around, slightly breathless.

The indecision on her face confuses me as I wonder what on earth she has to say to me. Her voice is hesitant. "Did you, um, see Peeta?"

Well this is unexpected. Are we really going to have this conversation? Looking at her, uncharacteristically nervous, I realize we are. I'm not sure what information she's after so I stick to the facts. "Briefly." I admit honestly. "He returned some things to me. Said he was moving."

Her face registers recognition. "Good."

"I'm sorry about you two." I say the words that I couldn't say to Peeta, because I feel like I can't just walk away from her now. Somehow they're easier to say to Madge, who I barely know.

Her eyes meet mine and for a minute I feel as if she can read me like an open book. It unnerves me. She's perceptive. "Despite everything Katniss…I know you loved him a lot. And honestly, I don't think he ever really got over you. You two had something that I couldn't compete with." Her admission is the most curious part of this entire thing. Did she really not believe she could compete with my relationship with Peeta? The ridiculousness of that statement makes me want to laugh out loud. "But, I don't he can ever be with you again, either." Her words aren't cruel, aren't aimed to mean, just honest. I appreciate the honesty that I never imagined would come from Madge. But they still leave me baffled, heartbroken, confused.

"Why are you telling me this?"

She shrugs her shoulders and for a moment, her perfect illusion is broken, and I realize she's just as lost in mess this as I am.

She gives me a tiny smile, making a move to leave but one last question pops into my mind, something I'd been idly wondering for a long time.

"Madge? Why did you never tell Leevy who I was?"

It never made any sense. They were best friends. I was the complicated ex-girlfriend and I'm sure Madge knew exactly who I was from the first day I met her, though she never told Leevy or even Peeta.

She thinks for a moment then regards me in a way that I can only describe as…friendly. "Rye and Finnick told me a lot about you. And despite everything that happened, the way you left Peeta…they never once made it seem like you were a bad person. Just a little lost. When I first met you in the conference room, I realized they were right. If I told Leevy who you were, it would've done no good. I didn't want to hurt your reputation, you're fresh start, over an old mistake."

I'm rendered speechless by her. There isn't a vengeful bone in Madge's body, I realize. Her kindness touches me and it's so completely unnecessary and unexpected I feel totally undeserving of it.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

That ended one of the first and last conversations I ever head with Madge Undersee, and somehow we both left the United lobby with a tiny sense of connectedness, forged by our relationship with Peeta Mellark, the man we'd both lost.

I found that the world continued turning despite the drama that unfolded within the Capitol's limits. My work at United continued with Leevy, our friendship untouched by the Undersee and Mellark drama. I saw Annie every other day. I texted Johanna. I hung out with Prim when she wasn't running around a busy ER and had the occasional visit from Rory. I skyped Gale. I continued to see Darius. And Peeta began to fade into just a scar from the past. The shoebox he'd kindly returned sat nestled safely on my shelf. Occasionally, I'd open it and gently touch the items inside, but not too often. I wouldn't pretend the thought of him still didn't hurt. Wounds take time to heal.

One week after the conversation with Madge I lie on my bed, waiting for Darius to turn up. It is one of those lucky weeks that I don't have to work overtime at United. I'm lounging in a baggy t shirt and gym shorts, tapping away on my phone. Prim has gone to State 12 for a short visit to Rory, so the apartment is silent and I've become a little complacent; things like empty plates, my running shoes and old catalogues are scattered haphazardly through the apartment. I'd have to clean it soon. Come to think of it, the running shoes have been lying in the same place for two days. I haven't had the time, or more importantly felt the need, to run as aggressively or as often as I used to.

The familiar banging of the door alerts me to Darius' arrival. We no longer bother with knocking. He smiles when he sees me sprawled on the bed.

"Hey." I greet, easily.

He sighs dramatically, making me laugh, as he throws down his things and flings himself parallel to me on the bed.

"Long day?"

"Yeah," he grumbles, only half serious, "I'm beat. Didn't sleep well last night."

"Takeout and a movie then?"

"Sounds perfect. I'm going to take a quick shower, okay?" There's only the slight presence of a question, a tiny bit of uncertainty that's asking permission to use my bathroom. We'd gotten over the 'is it alright if I use your shower' question a while ago but even so, a tiny skerrick of hesitation remains. I imagine it'll diminish naturally over time.

I watch as he takes his things out of his backpack that he brings over and it suddenly strikes me how ridiculous that is. He's been staying over regularly for weeks and he is still using a backpack. Come to think of it, although he feels comfortable using my bathroom, none of his things are ever left in there. I know this oversight is probably my fault and perhaps he hasn't wanted to scare me away by leaving his presence in my apartment. There's no question that I'm the reluctant one in this relationship.

As I hear the thrum of the hot water pipes I stare at the big dresser in my bedroom. I don't have that many clothes. The thing isn't even that full honestly. There is enough room to make space for things. His things.

The idea of a drawer, such a simple thing, makes me nervous. I haven't actively made many decisions when it's come to my relationship with Darius. I've more or less fallen into it and been taken along for the ride, like a body in the ocean current. But this, this would be different. This would be progress, wouldn't it?

Truth be told, Darius probably isn't my happily ever after, get married and settle down kind of guy but I like him and we're happy together right now. He makes me laugh, he does sweet things for me, he's good at giving me my space and he doesn't ask too many prying questions.

I've long since learnt that no one really has any idea what the future will throw at them. I would have never thought my life would be like this, three years ago in college. So no, right now, I don't think I'll be with Darius forever but for all I know, that could easily change over time. And I like him enough that I'm willing to go along for the ride.

So I make a decision and it feels good to take control. With the hot water still running, I clear out one of the drawers in my dresser, piling the clothes unceremoniously into the neighbouring drawer, and when he walks out I show him what I've done and he answers my awkward, stammering explanation with a grin so big, that I find myself laughing and kissing him and right then, the moment is just about perfect.

A/N: What do you think? Wondering how the story will end? Trust me, I am going somewhere with this. One more to go!