I pull on a simple outfit: black trousers and a white shirt. I comb through my hair with my fingers, smoothing it out. I splash my face with cold water. One quick look in the mirror – there, perfect. I take a deep breath before heading out the door.

As I walk through the narrow hallway of the train, I can't help but wonder what Katniss has thought of my absence. Did she ask for me? Did she think about me at all?

My heart gives a painful thump against my chest, as if to remind me of my awful reality.

I make it to the end of the hallway, and there she is, beautiful like always. She looks up at me and her eyes are pleading. My heart beats hard in my chest, almost reaching for her. Before my face can betray any emotion, I look away to the window, pretending to look at the desolate land flashing by.

The train breaks to a stop and through the windows I can see a crowd of people waiting for us. Everyone is eager to see the victors of the hunger games – the lovers. Only we're not. It was all planned. But of course, they can't find out. We have to keep up the charade or else our family and we would be in a lot of trouble. They would probably execute us publicly for having made fools out of the game makers, and most importantly the Capital. A quick death if we're lucky, but most likely they would torture us first. An image of Katniss screaming in pain flashes in my mind, and I cringe away from it. They can't hurt her. I rather they kill me first.

And so her life is in my hands. I must protect her at whatever cost – I must keep up the act. Even she did break my heart, inflicting me with the worst kind of pain I could ever imagine.

I extend my hand to her, and she looks at it unsure.

"One more time," I say trying to keep my voice emotionless. "For the audience?"

She looks at me with penetrating eyes, and I can see longing in them. Longing for what? To get away from me? Maybe it's not even longing, maybe it's just plain pity.

She takes my hand, holding on tightly, and I must hold back the urge to squeeze it in return, to kiss it, to kiss her. I look straight forward as the doors begin to slide open. Smile, I think bitterly to myself. Smile for the cameras.

The doors open, and we're instantly blinded by the flash of the cameras. Everyone is yelling questions at us, shoving microphones in our faces.

"Katniss, what did your first kill feel like?"

"Would you really have sacrificed yourself for Katniss?"

"Was it all planned out from the beginning? The alliance with the careers?"

"Peeta, would you please kiss her for the cameras?"

"Yeah, kiss her! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

And suddenly the entire crowd is chanting in unison. Kiss! Kiss!!

I look over at Katniss, and I can see a blush spreading on her face. I would reach for her face in other circumstances, whisper in her ear that her blush is lovely. But instead, I just lean over hesitantly and whisper: "Just for the cameras alright?"

She looks at me, something intelligible in her gaze, and nods inconspicuously in approval. I lean over once more, cupping her face in my hands, and press my lips on hers gently. The kiss lasts only seconds, but it's enough get my heart racing with love and sadness at the same time. Finally it's too much for me, and I have to pull away. I put my arm around her shoulders and smile at the crowd to cover up, but inside I'm bleeding.

I love you! My heart is screaming, crying. But I remain silent.

Not the crowd. The crowd is wild, laughing, chanting, enjoying the show.

"One more time!" Somebody shouts, and someone else shouts in agreement. But mercifully Haymitch steps in.

"Alright folks," he says laughing. "Give the sweethearts some space! I'm sure after such a long trip they need some privacy. Wink, wink!" he adds in loudly, mock-nudging Katniss.

The crowd bursts into laughter, but makes room for us to pass through. We're led to the Justice Building, where we're greeted by the Mayor. He congratulates the both of us, and then disappears into a room full of reporters. There is a banquet, and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Sickening.

All this time I hadn't let go of Katniss's hand. But suddenly I feel overwhelmed; I pull my hand out of her grip and without a word rush out of the reception room toward the bathrooms.

Thankfully the bathrooms are empty. I head to the sinks and splash my face with cold water again and again. I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath.

What am I doing? I think. What the hell am I doing? I might as well dig up a whole and bury myself in it. Because I'm killing myself. How in the world do I expect to get over her if I'm going to be close to her all the time – well, only in front of the cameras. But that's already too much for me to handle.

Doesn't she understand? I love her! I am in love with her! How could she have done this to me, if she knew how things would have to be when – if – we got back to District 12?

Ahh! But never mind that now! I have to follow along now if I want her to be safe.

I wipe my face with rough paper towels and head out the door. I am deep in thought as I walk out of the bathroom and I don't notice her standing right in front of me until I crash with her. Suddenly there's a tangle of legs and arms, and we collapse.

"Oh my God – Katniss are you alright?" I ask her anxiously.

"Um, yeah I think so," she says staring at me wide eyed. And then bursts out laughing.

"What so funny?" I ask a little annoyed.

"You!" she giggles. "I'm sorry – I'm not making fun of you or anything, promise." she says. "It's just it was pretty classic, that's all. Plus you should've seen your face – really, I'm not making fun of you! – don't be mad," she pleads.

"I'm not mad," I reassure her. "How can I be?" I'm staring into the eyes of the most beautiful girl – how can I be mad? Mad at myself for not being able to be mad at her, yes. But never mad at her.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly with the saddest expression I've ever seen in her face. "Peeta I should've – I mean, I wasn't – I just – "

"Shhh!" I say, placing my index finger over her mouth. "Please don't. It – it's not easy as it is, you know."

I realize that I'm still on top of her. Unwillingly I pull myself off her. I stand up and extend my hand to help her and help her up. I try to retrieve my hand from hers, but she holds on.

"Katniss – ", but before I can finish my sentence she throws her arms around me.

Instinctively my arms wrap around her waist, and I can't help but inhale the sweet scent of her hair.

Oh God, I love her.

But she doesn't, at least not like I do.

"Goodbye Katniss," I say. "At least until the cameras come around again," I chuckle darkly.

"Peeta don't – "

But I can't take it anymore right now. It's too much. I walk away as fast as my prosthetic leg can carry me. Might as well rip my heart out now and save myself the pain.

I rub my eyes with my hands, and once again find moisture there.