Portia takes me to the dressing room and makes me try a few outfits before she's finally satisfied. I nod and umm as she chitchats about how delicious the banquet food was. Of course, that's what you would talk about after all that happened today. Why would you talk about how sickening it was to watch a replay of innocents' slaughters? Why would you comment about how nobody so much as twitched every time a tribute on screen was brutally killed? Pshh! Why would you waste your time talking about any of that when you can talk about how tasty the food was? Who would even bother?

I take a deep breath. It's not Portia's fault. Of course not. She probably just thinks talking about that would upset me. And she's right. So why do I feel so disgusted, so enraged that we're making small talk after all that has happened?

No, it's not Portia. It's me. I promised myself I wouldn't let the hunger games change me, yet here I am, bitter and angry. But who can blame me?

"Alright. Everything's ready for tomorrow," announces Portia. "Go on to bed now. You don't want to pass out during the interview, now do you?"

"Okay," I mumble. "Good night."

I walk across the hall and into my room. I think about looking for Katniss, but then think better of it. I close the door, walk to my bed, and let my body collapse on it, face down.

"Katniss," I whisper. "Soon. We'll be able to be together, finally."

I turn on my back, kick off my shoes, my pants, and tug free out of my shirt. I'm so glad the prosthetic can be left on; I really don't want to "take my leg off" every time I go to bed. I climb under the cool, soft covers, and let my mind drift away.

There's so much to think about; I have a whole new life ahead of me. When I go back home I won't have to eat stale bread for dinner anymore. And my father, and siblings, they'll finally be able to just sit back and relax for once. Oh, and my mother, too, I guess. Anyway. Life will be so much easier.

Katniss. She'll be part of that life. Of my life.

It can't be. Is it really possible that there can be a happy ending after all? Katniss, and my family? I can have it all?

It's like a dream. But it isn't. It's real, so real I can taste it.

Katniss…

"Wake up! Today's a big, big, big day! Wake up!"

"Ahh," I groan. "Go away."

"Open up, Peeta, time to get ready," announces Effie in a loud voice as she obnoxiously pounds on the door.

I have about five minutes to eat, before the prep team comes down and literally drag to the dressing room.

They dress me in white pants, and a red shirt. The shoes are white too. Portia takes care of my hair, and make up. They work fast, and before I know it Portia turns me around to face the mirror.

"What do you think?" Portia asks, but answers her own question before I open my mouth. "Handsome, of course, a work of art. So you like it?"

"I –"

"Of course you do," she says with bright eyes. "You look like a god."

"Thanks, Portia," I say before she can start talking again.

The interview takes place right down the hall in the sitting room. A space has been cleared for a small sofa surrounded with vases of red and pink roses. There, no audience this time, just the prep team.

Caesar Flickerman greets me warmly when I come in. "Congratulations, Peeta," he says as he shakes my hand with a firm grip. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, just a little nervous, but nothing to worry about."

"Of course you shouldn't worry," he reassures me with a smile. "This is going to be fun, you'll see." He pats my shoulder and walks away.

And then I see Katniss, looking beautiful in a delicate white dress. I grab her hand, and pull her off to the side.

"I hardly get to see you," I say. "Haymitch seems bent on keeping us apart."

"Yes, he's gotten very responsible lately," she smiles.

"Well, there's just this and we go home," I say with relief. "Then he can't watch us all the time."

I want to talk to her more, but they're ready and waiting for us.

We sit on the small sofa.

"Oh, go ahead and curl up next to him if you want," says Caesar. "It looked very sweet."

Katniss tucks her feet up, and I pull her closer to me.

Someone counts backwards, and then we're live. Caesar, make a few jokes, and then gets down to business.

I do most of the talking, and I don't mind; Caesar is a very nice man, and I want to help out Katniss. Eventually of course, Caesar has had enough one word answers from Katniss.

" Katniss, what a ride for you," Caesar says. "I think the real excitement for the audience was watching you fall for him," he nods in my direction. "When did you realize you were in love with him?"

"Oh, that's a hard one…" she says with a breathy laugh, looking down at her hands.

"Well, I know when it hit me," says Caesar. "The night when you shouted his name from that tree."

"Yes," Katniss says still looking down. "I guess that was it. I mean, until that point, I just tried not to think about what my feelings might be, honestly, because it was so confusing, and it only made things worse if I actually cared about him. But then, in the tree, everything changed."

"Why do you think that was?" urges Caesar.

"Maybe… because for the first time… there was a chance that I could keep him," she says.

My heart gives a loud, painful thud. My Katniss.

Caesar pulls a handkerchief and has to take a moment because he's so moved.

I press my forehead into her temple. "So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" I ask her.

"Put you somewhere where you can't get hurt," she says turning to me.

I lean in and, forgetting the cameras for a minute, kiss her gently on her lips.

Then we have to get back to business. We talk about all the wounds – minor, and major – until Caesar asks me how my new leg is doing.

"New leg?" asks Katniss confused. She reaches out and pulls up the bottom of my pants. "Oh, no," she whispers.

"No one told you?" Caesar asks gently.

She shakes her head.

"I haven't had the chance," I say.

"It's my fault. Because I used the tourniquet," Katniss says with disgust.

"Yes," I say. She looks up. "It's your fault I'm alive," I finish.

"He's right," says Caesar. "He'd have bled to death for sure without it."

She buries her face in my shirt, and Caesar leaves her alone until he's sure she's recovered.

"Katniss," Caesar says lightly. "I know you've got a shock, but I've got to ask. The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind, hm?"

"I don't know," she mumbles. "I just… couldn't bear the thought of… being without him."

Another painful heart thud.

"Peeta?" Caesar turns to me. "Anything to add?"

"No. I think that goes for the both of us."

Caesar signs off and it's over. Everyone's laughing and crying and hugging, and I'm just relieved that we can finally go home.

At last.