It's hot. Damned hot, and stuffy too, which is strange because the nights have been chilly these past few weeks. I throw back the covers, scrubbing a hand through my sweat dampened hair. I feel the bed move beneath me and freeze as a tiny, slender hand falls across my ribcage.

My eyes fall on the young woman sleeping next to me and last night comes thundering back. The night I spent with Katniss. With Katniss fucking Everdeen. My breath catches in my throat and my stomach leaps, not altogether unpleasantly.

Slowly, so slowly, I sit up. She's obviously gotten warm too, and she's cast off all the blankets. I'm going to have to start sleeping with the windows open, assuming we keep sleeping together. She's naked, arms flung over her head, hair spread out in a halo of dark waves on the pillow beneath her. I watch her small, shapely breasts rise and fall with her breath, admiring the dark, pink tips, and the curves beneath where they meet her ribcage.

She's still too thin, but the furrows between her ribs and the concave dips of her hip bones are starting to fill in. Her hips are small, her waist tiny and her limbs slender. Everything about her is graceful, even in sleep; she's like a wood nymph, nubile and sensuous and wild.

My eyes light on the darkness nestled at the juncture of her thighs, and I feel myself stirring. I want nothing more than to taste her. I slide down the bed, touching my lips to the top of her right foot, and my hand encircles her slender ankle and slides up, caressing the smooth skin of her calf. Gently I spread her legs, inching myself up to place a kiss on the sensitive spot on the inside of her knee. I feather kisses up the inside of her thigh, my breath coming fast and hot with desire as I work my way up.

A tiny sound like a waking kitten escapes her as she stretches, on the edge between sleep and waking. I slide my arms under her thighs, grasping her hips in my hands. I take a shaky breath through my nose, inhaling the musky smell of her, before parting the pink folds with my tongue.

I lay long strokes of my tongue along her sex, tasting all of her, flicking and circling my tongue over her clitoris with each pass. It isn't long before she wakes; I feel her squirm beneath me and I open my eyes, seeing her push herself up on her elbows, lips parted and eyes blazing as she stares down at me. I dig my fingers into her hips, anchoring her in place, commanding her with my eyes to hold still, and fasten my mouth onto her again.

She gasps, her hands fisting the sheets at her sides as she falls back against the bed. I free my right hand and part her lower lips, sliding one finger inside her as my tongue lashes against her center. A strangled cry escapes her mouth and I feel her hands knot in my hair as she lifts her hips to press herself against my mouth. I circle and flick my tongue against her mercilessly as she mewls helplessly. I add a second finger, sliding them slowly in and out of her, and close my lips around her clitoris, sucking and flicking.

Her back arches off the bed and she flings her head back. Her hands tug my hair painfully, sending shocks down to my groin. Her walls clamp down on my fingers, her legs close around my head as she spasms beneath me. She lets out a gasping, shuddering moan, an animal cry as I work my tongue against her over and over until finally, she stills, sagging back onto the mattress.

She lets her knees fall out on either side of my head and I prop myself on one elbow to look down at her, licking my lips. Her body is racked with shuddering breaths, her eyes heavily lidded as she gazes up at me.

"Oh my God, Peeta," she says hoarsely and I can't help the smile that splits my face. I bring my hand up to my mouth and keeping my eyes on hers, suck all her wetness from my fingers. Her lips part and her eyes widen again; I can feel my cock twitch at the fiery gaze that she casts up at me.

"C'mon," I say cheekily, climbing out from between her legs despite her protests. I pull her to my feet, ignoring my erection. "Let's take a shower."

Under the hot gush of the shower, I enfold her in my arms, my hard-on pressed up against her stomach as I explore her body with my fingers. I don't think I'll ever be done wanting to touch her, running my hands over her wet breasts, the smooth taut plane of her narrow back, down over her stomach and hips. And she lets me, her own fingers tracing the lines of my shoulders, my arms and finally, my hips.

Her small hand closes over my cock and her tiny pink mouth curves into a wicked smile at my gasp. I open the shower door to grab a condom from the drawer beside the sink, and roll it on quickly. She lets me push her back up against the wall of the shower and lifting her leg, guides me inside of her. The scalding water pounds down on our joined bodies and our ecstatic cries mingle with the steam.

We stay under the water until it goes cold, and then climb out together. I toss her a towel which she catches with a glare, and I can't help but laugh, which only makes her purse her lips at me. God, I love it when she scowls.

But then I notice for the first time, the split in her lip from where that fucker hit her last night. I cup her face in my hand, running my thumb over the cut gently as she looks defiantly up at me, daring me to say something.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, softly.

She tugs her face out of my hand and turns away. "It's fine. I've had a lot worse."

"I remember," I say wryly. "I had front row seats to a good portion of that beating too. You've definitely had a rough week."

She shrugs. "Welcome to my life."

I hesitate a moment before asking, "Aren't you afraid? I mean, those men in the alley, the one who showed up here last night… they found you before, aren't you afraid they'll find you again? Or that someone else will?"

She shrugs again, not meeting my eyes. "Does it matter? Whether I'm afraid or not, if they're going to find me or not, the only choice I have is to deal with whatever does happen."

"What about your mom?" I ask cautiously.

"My mother abandoned me when I needed her most," she snaps with finality.

I decide not to press the issue- at least not yet. "Okay," I answer simply.

The intimacy of this morning and the night before falls away, replaced by an uneasy silence. "Hungry?" I ask to fill the awkwardness.

She moans, nodding fervently. "Oh God, yes. Coffee first though, please?"

I laugh. "Why don't you get started on the coffee and I'll make us some French toast?"

Whatever other shortcomings in Katniss' life, she sure learned to make a mean cup of coffee. I finish my first cup and help myself to a second, while she shovels in French toast like it's going out of style. Obviously her stomach has expanded again, and I'm happy to see her eating. We quickly run out but she refuses my offer of eggs, collapsing with a groan on the living room couch.

"That was amazing. Is there anything you can't do, Peeta?" she asks, rubbing her swollen abdomen.

I pretend to think about it. "Not many things," I tease, rubbing my chin in mock thoughtfulness. I dodge the pillow she throws at me, laughing. "Okay, okay. Seriously, there're a lot of things I can't do. For one, I can't sing for shit," I admit.

She sits up, grinning widely. "Really? Let's hear!"

I shake my head. "No. No way. You think I'm going to sing for you after hearing you yesterday? Fat chance. I'll stick to the things I know I'm good at." I wink at her suggestively and I'm rewarded when her lip quirks up in the corner before she can stop it. Then a second pillow comes hurtling at me, this time catching me in the face.

I laugh, and toss it back at her, but she just knocks it away. "So I'll just leave the singing to you, thank you very much," I say.

She grabs the remote and turns on the TV, stretching back out on the couch while I settle in on the opposite end. Our legs overlap in the middle, and I let our feet intertwine, pulling the blanket down from the back of the couch to wrap us up. Lying there with her, I am blissfully, stupidly happy, despite everything that has happened in the short week since I found her. At this moment it almost feels as if we are in a normal relationship, that we didn't come together in the midst of violence, that she is not here only because she has nowhere else to go. We watch stupid Sunday afternoon TV together until my full stomach, the mindless drone of the set and the comfort of having her next to me lulls me into a dreamless sleep.

When I wake up, she's gone.

My first reaction is panic, as I search my whole apartment, frantically calling her name. Then the panic is quickly replaced by an overwhelming feeling of stupidity. Of course, she didn't feel the same way as me. She got what she needed, I kept her alive. She doesn't need me anymore.

I could go looking for her, but why bother? If she doesn't want to be here, she doesn't need to be. It was stupid of me to think that she'd live with me forever, just because she seemed happy with me for one week.

I sit down at the kitchen table with my sketchbook and try to work on some of my assignments for next week; I'd gotten dangerously close to falling behind since Katniss came literally screaming back into my life last week. Before long, though, the piece I'm working on turns into a sketch of her, how she looked last night with blood welling from her split lip, tears running down her cheek, and fire in her eyes, and I have to stop.

Jesus Christ, get it together Mellark.

I can't focus. I can't dismiss the nagging feeling that something is wrong. For some reason, I can't shake the feeling that she didn't just leave. Maybe I'm fooling myself but one thing's certain; I definitely won't be able to concentrate until I know for sure.

So what, then? I'm just supposed to chase after her like some love sick teenager? No. No way. I'm above that.

My expensive 5B sketching pencil snaps in my hand.

"Fuck," I say out loud to myself, and leap up to pull on my coat.

My car is a piece of shit, but it moves and stops when I ask it to, and the heat works, so I guess it could be worse. I suppose I should be thankful it even has heat, because a light dusting of snow has fallen overnight and my windows are completely iced up.

I scrape off the windows haphazardly, hoping that the defroster will take care of the rest and take off faster than is advisable into the slippery streets. I don't really know where she's gone, but I don't think she would have gone back to her mother's house. I hope she didn't go to visit her old friend Gale Hawthorne, (the only real friend I can remember her having in high school) because I have no idea where he lives, and even if I did, I'm sure I wouldn't be welcome there. I'm not even sure if they still interact.

That leaves the cemetery.

It's in our old neighbourhood, and my grandparents are buried there too. The Everdeens never had a lot of money and had no family anywhere else that I know of; I'm sure that's where Katniss' father and Prim would be resting. It's worth a shot, I guess.

The cemetery doesn't have a parking lot, so I park down the street in the industrial area which is totally deserted, and walk the rest of the way. I don't see her immediately, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's not here.

I walk slowly up and down the lines of graves, trying not to see the names of the dead lying row upon row in the frozen ground. I've never lost anyone, at least, not anyone close to me. I can only imagine how she must feel. I wasn't even friends with Katniss in High School but I can remember the way she looked at her sister, the way Prim looked back at her, when I would see them together on my way home, after Katniss had picked her up. Something would come alive in Katniss when she talked to Prim. She would smile and laugh in a way that I never got to see at school, not even when she was with her friends (not that she had many). It was always my favourite time of the day; when I got to see them together.

I love my brothers but this was something more. They were best friends as well as sisters. They needed each other. And now one is gone, the other left desolate and alone and broken. And then there is her dad, and I know that thinking of him is painful too. I ache to think of the suffering Katniss has endured, remembering the story she told me last night.

Finally I find her, kneeling in the snow before a matched set of headstones. She seems to be speaking softly, so lost in her reverie that she doesn't hear me approaching, even though my footsteps are loud in the snow.

"I'm staying with Peeta, Little Duck," she is saying. "Do you remember Peeta Mellark? He was always nice to me- to both of us. You always used to comment on his hair," she says, and then laughs. "We did it last night. And again today. It was… oh God, Prim, it was amazing."

I can't help my grin.

"But last night, afterwards, I think I heard him say something. It's not his fault; he thought I was asleep and I don't think he meant for me to hear it."

My heart stutters. Shit.

"He said 'I love you'."

Yep. Shit, shit, shit.

That's why she left. She heard me last night. She's been staying with me for a week, we had sex once and I said I loved her. In high school, she barely even knew who I was. I should just leave right now. Save myself the embarrassment of her having to tell me to leave her the fuck alone.

"I just… I wish you were here. To hear you squeal that a guy said he loves me, to tell me what to do next. You were always so much better at this stuff than me. And I can't even talk to mom-" she breaks off in a choked sob. "I just miss you so much Little Duck! So much. Why did you have to go? I need my sister! It's not fair. It's not fair…"

She starts rocking back and forth, covering her face with her gloved hands. I can't stand it any longer, and I walk slowly up to her and touch her on the shoulder.

She whirls around, startled. "You were listening?" she asks harshly, pulling roughly away from me. My hands extend feebly out into the space between us as if to pull her back to me, but I don't make any moves towards her.

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I just came to find you and I overheard—"

"You shouldn't have listened!" she shouts, furious. "You weren't supposed to hear any of that!" She spins away from me, throwing her hands up angrily. She looks back at me, her braid whipping around her neck as she turns. "Why are you even here? I don't need your help all the time, Peeta! I can take care of myself!"

"I know that, Katniss, alright!" I shout back at her. I don't know why I'm shouting; it's not fair after what she's been through, but dammit, it's not fair to me either. "Look, I was worried about you, and I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Why are you even so angry? Just because I've seen you all vulnerable? Or is it because I said I love you and you have no idea how to deal with that?"

Her face goes white and she glares at me, a muscle in her jaw jumping. She opens her mouth several times to retort but nothing comes out. Finally I throw up my hands in exasperation. "Fine. Obviously, you don't need me at all, so I'll just go."

Without another word, I turn away, stuffing my hands into my pockets and hunching down into my jacket and start back to my car. I am so stupid. So stupid. Why the fuck did I think she wanted to be with me? Why the fuck did I even come?

"Peeta!" she shouts after me, but I just keep on walking.

"I don't need your pity, Katniss," I answer gruffly without turning around.

"Peeta, please!" she pleads, and it's all I can do to keep on walking.

Do I wish I had never found her? No. At least I can be proud of that. I'm glad I could help her. Glad that I could get her back on her feet. But if she doesn't want me, she doesn't need to humour me. I'm a big boy.

I slam the door of my car behind me and turn the key in the ignition. The car makes a half hearted attempt at starting and then dies. I try again… the same.

"Stupid piece of shit motherfucking car!" I scream, pounding my fists against the steering wheel and throwing the keys against the windshield. Taking deep breaths, I try to calm myself down, resting my head against the steering wheel. I close my eyes and will myself to relax. "Fucking idiot," I curse myself under my breath.

The passenger door creaks open and Katniss climbs in. I look up at her, startled, but she doesn't say a word. She turns her hips in the seat so that her torso is facing mine and her red rimmed, silvery eyes stare into my blue ones. Then, slowly, she reaches across the space between us to take my face in her hands. She strokes my cheek bone with her thumb, her eyes skimming my brow, my jaw, my lips. She leans forward and closing her eyes, presses her lips softly to mine.

Unlike our kisses last night and this morning, this kiss is tender. Her mouth slides over mine, her tongue caressing the crease of my lips. Her fingers dance to the back of my neck where they trace light patterns in my hair, sending shivers down my spine that have nothing to do with the cold. She nips lightly at my lip, sending electricity shooting straight down to my groin.

Katniss reaches over me and pulls the lever at my side, releasing the seat into a prone position. She unzips her wet jeans and pushes them down her ankles awkwardly until they fall to the floor, then climbs into my lap, straddling my hips. She leaves my clothes on but unzips my jeans, slipping her tiny hand inside to stroke my erection, making me gasp.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice like velvet, "I lied before." She frees me from my boxers and takes the condom I pull from my wallet, rolling it down over me. She nudges her panties aside with my tip, sliding down on to me with a strangled noise in the back of her throat. Her head comes forward to rest against mine, her eyes closed, lips parted. "I can survive on my own," she continues, breathing hard and holding absolutely still, "but that doesn't mean that I don't still need you."

Then her muscles down below tighten around me and my eyes roll back into my head.

"Fuck! Katniss!" I breathe urgently, my arms going around her body and clutching her hard. She takes my hands from behind her back and laces her fingers through mine, pushing my hands up on either side of my head on the headrest. "No, Peeta," she whispers, her breath coming hard and hot against my ear, "slowly."

She moves, using her legs to push herself up and down my length. I try to hold still but I can't, my hips begin to buck, straining to push myself deeper into her. She whimpers involuntarily, and starts to move faster, taking more and more of me into her, slamming harder and harder down onto me.

She releases me and slides her hands up her torso to palm her own breasts through her shirt. "Yes, Peeta," she moans loudly, "I need you."

I can feel myself nearing the edge. I slide my hands up her thighs, bringing my thumbs to meet at the junction of her thighs. Gently I knead her clitoris through the wet cotton of her panties as she slides up and down my cock until she arches against me, my name falling over and over again in a hushed whisper from her lips as she climaxes. As she finishes she slams down around me and I thrust up into her, spilling myself inside her with a moan.

She slides off me and I discard the condom in a grocery bag from the back seat. We've fogged up the windows of the car; I retrieve the keys from where they've fallen on the dash and turn them in the ignition. It makes the same sad chugging noise but won't catch. "Damn," I whisper frustratedly.

"Let me try," Katniss says, nudging my hand off the key. I let her and inexplicably it purrs into life. I give her a scowl that imitates the one she makes at me so often, and I'm rewarded with a laugh.

"You gotta give it some gas," she says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

"Well I guess that's one more thing I'm not good at," I say. "Cars."

"My dad taught me," she says simply. "Prim was no good with cars either, and one of us had to be" She goes quiet again and nestles down next to me as I press a kiss to her jaw bone. We wait, wrapped up in the blanket, as the car begins to warm up and defrost, the windows slowly clearing.

"Katniss?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yes, Peeta?" she answers quietly.

"What is this?" I say hesitantly, "I mean, I don't want to be that guy but I have to know. When you say you need me… is it just for sex? Don't get me wrong, the sex is incredible, and I'd find it pretty hard to say no to you, but I need to know if you're going to disappear on me. Like today. Were you going to come back?"

She is silent for a moment. "I don't know," she answers quietly. "All I know is that when I saw you I didn't want you to drive away without me." She buries her face in my collarbone. "I'm so fucked up Peeta."

I press my hand to the back of her head and kiss her hair. "It's okay. You don't have to know. That's enough for now. Just, when you do decide to leave, don't just walk out when I'm asleep okay? Just let me know that you want to go, so I know that you're okay. I promise that if you really want to go, I'll let you."

She doesn't answer at first, but then she looks up into my eyes and whispers, "Take me home, Peeta. To our home."

So I do.

AUTHORS NOTE:

Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed this story thus far! Thanks to JennaGill for beta assistance on Part 2!

Not many actual events occur in this chapter, and there are still a lot of questions that need to be cleared up! Look for a Part 3 to finish up the Series sometime in the future.

I'm made-from-memories over on Tumblr; feel free to follow!