A/N: edited 02/01/15

Chapter 23: Home Sweet Home

Katniss

Five months ago, I would've laughed if you told me that I would not only be at the Winter Ball with Peeta, but kissing him in front of everyone too.

Part of me is burning with embarrassment, another is terrified because people know that I'm pregnant by Peeta, and another part – the dominant part, I think – is on fire, drunk on the feeling of Peeta's lips on mine, his large hands sliding down to grasp my waist, and his golden hair wound around my fingers.

"Get in there, Peet!" A familiar voice crows, and Peeta and I pull away from each other hastily. Rye walks past us, slapping his brother on the shoulder and smirking.

"Fuck off, Rye," Peeta says, but his threat is half-hearted.

"My birthday present was a good choice then?" His brother continues. I bite my lip and bring my palm up to my forehead, hiding my blush.

"You want go back to the bakery? Have something hot to drink?" Peeta asks me, his eyes shining bright, his lips curved into a boyish, but shy, smile.

"Yes. Please." I nod, and Peeta takes my hand and pulls me through the crowd. I can feel people staring at me, and don't dare look up and face them. I stay focused on Peeta's shoes instead, and the feel of his calloused hand in mine. Strange. I would've assumed that bakers' hands would be soft and smooth.

"You alright?" Peeta asks with an amused grin. I look up. We've reached the bakery and I'm just staring at his hand and running my fingers over it.

"Yeah," I nod. "It's just that your hands aren't soft. They're all rough like mine."

"Working at the bakery is sometimes just as dangerous as hunting in the forest," Peeta chuckles. "You should see my arms. They're covered in burns."

"I have burns too – don't pretend like you're not the only one." I say. Peeta grins and pushes open the bakery door. We squeeze past a few people who are attempting to grab the last few free pastries and into the kitchen, where Mr Mellark is stoking the ovens and wiping down the countertops.

"You kids getting something to drink?" he asks, and I don't miss the way his blue eyes flicker quickly down to our joined hands. Peeta nods.

"It's cold out there." I add.

"It certainly is. It'll probably going to snow overnight," Peeta's father nods, heading for the doorway. "I'll leave you kids alone." He winks before disappearing. Usually I would cringe at Mr Mellark winking at us in such a suggestive time, and I still do, but I can't tell myself that what Peeta and I have is completely innocent.

Peeta clatters around, grabbing two mugs and putting a dark powder into them. I go to the window by the backdoor and rub the steamed-up glass with my hand, peering out into the dark night. Snow is indeed falling, in light flurries, the fluffy flakes dancing in the wind, pirouetting and twirling past the glass.

"So, where is our house?" I ask, turning around. Peeta looks up from the oven.

"Just a few streets from the school. On the new section of the Merchant Quarter that was built a few years ago."

"Have you been there yet?"

"No, I haven't," Peeta shakes his head. "But I'm sure it'll be nice. How do to you feel about it?"

"I don't know," I confess, moving over to the table and perching on one of the stools, my back and feet aching from the dancing and extra weight of carrying a baby. I rub my stomach thoughtfully as I bring up answer, and Peeta follows my hands, staring with wide eyes and a ghost of a smile. "I guess I'm nervous and excited and scared as hell, all at the same time."

"Me too, Katniss. Me too," he murmurs, staring at the floor. He suddenly looks older than his time, and I notice the dark shadows beneath his eyes. I wonder if he's been out under more stress than he could handle with finding us a house. Immediately I feel bad. All I've done is complain and not do any work.

"At the end of all this, when the baby is here and everyone has settled a little more, do you think you'll regret anything?" I ask carefully. Peeta scrubs his hands over his face and exhales slowly before answering.

"Now, that is a question."

"You don't have to answer."

"Yes I do. Obliviously, I'd like to say that in two years time I will guilt-free and have no regrets about anything, but saying that would be a lie." He brings over two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, a delicacy I've my ever had once before.

"What do you regret?" I ask softly, fearing the answer.

"I regret doing this to you. I regret destroying your life," Peeta tells me, his answer pained, as if it causes him physical agony to say it.

"You haven't destroyed my life-"

"I have! You can't marry who you want now! You can't have children with whoever you love, and you can't lead your own life."

"I'm not with Gale." I state. Peeta blinks.

"What?"

"I never was and never wanted to be with Gale," I say, wrapping my frozen digits around the warm cup. Peeta is silent, and his face is pale.

"So you... And him. You never did anything?"

My cheeks burn at simply the thought of Gale and I doing anything like that. Sure, many people assumed that we were going to get married, and I always thought that that would be the end game, but children were never an option, especially considering that we both had siblings to look after. "Of course not. He's like a brother to me."

"So you were a virgin? That night? At the party?" Peeta asks, his voice cracking. I nod, confused at his reaction. "Katniss, I didn't know." He whispers, suddenly looking horrified. My heart breaks a little more.

"Hey, it's okay." I say, placing my hand on his.

"No, it isn't."

"For fucks sake, Peeta," I say. "I'm not some innocent china doll that needs to be cushioned. My virginity has never been something I wanted to keep dear to me."

"So you had sex one time and got pregnant?"

"Yep," I nod and squeeze his fingers. "I have really good luck," Peeta lets out a shuddering breath. I offer him a smile, trying to lighten the conversation. "At least you're the father, and not some other kid who wouldn't give a shit."

"I really am sorry, Katniss."

"We can't exactly back out of this now, can we?"

"Another thing to add to my 'things I feel guilty about' list."

"Stop apologising, stop saying you 'ruined' my life, and stop feeling bad about yourself. This is probably a better life than I would've led by myself," I say. Peeta gives me a sad look. "And you didn't answer my question."

"I thought you said that I didn't have to answer."

"I changed my mind."

Peeta is quiet for a long a long moment, staring over my shoulder, his eyes clouded and distant.

"Regret and guilt will always be on my mind, I think, but I would like to assume that everything will be okay in the end," he says finally. "When the baby comes, I want everything to be better – not as unstable as it is now."

"We'll be okay," I say, partly to try and convince myself that the future will be bright. "Things might be difficult at the moment, but hey. Every grey cloud has a silver lining!"

"My Dad used to say that," Peeta laughs. I take a sip of my drink.

"This is amazing." I say, inhaling the rich scent.

"It's from the Capitol so it better be. Cost a fortune to ship over here what with all the problems with the train lines recently."

"So why did you?"

"Valerie wanted a specific type of chocolate on her birthday cake." Peeta rolls his eyes.

"What's wrong with normal chocolate?"

"Nothing! That's my point!" he cries, reaching over to the bread bin sitting on the table, and pulls out a bread roll. I bite my lip, watching the muscles in his arms move beneath his skin. Wrestling, combined with work at the bakery has certainly paid off. I shift in my seat and look away, well aware of how flushed my face has become.

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching in confusion as Peeta dips a piece of the bread into the hot chocolate. He stares at me.

"What?"

"Why are you dipping bread into hot chocolate?" I ask, my eyes wide. Peeta grins.

"Jesus, you were looking at me like I had grown another head!" he chuckles. "Try it. It's nicer than it looks." He insists, handing me half the bread roll. I hesitantly tear a piece off and dip it into the cup. Peeta nods, encouraging me, and I put it in my mouth, fully expecting an odd combination of flavours that only Peeta enjoys.

"All right, this is better than I thought it would be." I say after swallowing. The bread is slightly stale, but I don't mind. It's much better than anything I've usual eaten, and doesn't fall apart in the hot drink when you dunk it in.

"So you like it?"

"It isn't as good as lamb stew. Or cheese buns. But it's good." I tell him. He nods in approval. After we finish eating, and the mugs of hot chocolate are empty, Peeta places a heavy loaf of nut and fruit bread and some cookies and bread rolls into a large paper bag, ignoring my protests that we don't need any food, that we're just fine.

"It's cold, it's winter, and you of all people need extra food."

"I'm fine as I am, Peeta," I say, almost jogging to keep up with his fast pace as we walk towards the unlit streets of the Seam. Mr Mellark was right, is has just begun to snow heavily, and the flakes settle on Peeta's broad shoulders as he walks. He loops his arm through mine to steady me on the icy patches of ground.

"For Prim and your mother then. You're moving out tomorrow, so think of this as an apology for taking you from them."

"Why are you so good to my family?" I sigh.

"Because they're my family too, now. Just like mine are yours," he replies. I tug my hat further down over my ears, squinting through the snow.

"You going to enjoy your last night at home with them?" I question.

"I'll try, but sometimes they can be a nightmare to live with."

"I'm going to miss Prim and my Mom. Prim and I share a bed, and it'll be weird not having her there at night."

"Katniss, why do you have it stuck in your head that you aren't going to be able to see your family? We'll be just across town, not changing districts."

"I know, I know. It's just weird. I thought I'd live in the Seam – maybe in that house – forever. Moving with someone else is just a difficult concept for me to grasp." I admit softly, waving to an elderly Seam couple who are walking back home from the Winter Ball. The magical lights and stalls and music seem like a lifetime ago.

"Prim will be able to visit whenever she likes. Don't worry."

"Prim and Mom have volunteered themselves to help us move in."

"Dad forced Fen and Rye to," Peeta adds.

"We've got a small army of people to help us."

"I know, it's bizarre."

"Oh!" I say with a snap of my fingers, suddenly remembering what Sae told me in the Hob. "Greasy Sae said that we could have her old crib."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's sending her son over to give it to us tomorrow."

"That's one thing we can cross off our list of stuff to get or get done," he says as we reach my house, handing me the bag of food. I take it and grasp it in one arm.

"I had a really nice time tonight, Peeta," I tell him. "Thanks for inviting me, and for this corsage. And for everything."

"You're welcome," he says, fighting a yawn.

"You've got coal dust in your hair," I frown, stepping forward and running my hand through his curls. "Damned stuff gets everywhere doesn't it?" Peeta smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just fine." My heart skips a beat when he leans forward, and I eagerly stretch upwards on my toes to press his lips to mine. He makes a soft noise when I timidly run my tongue over his bottom lip, but I swallow it, smiling into the kiss.

"I don't think this is something that friends do." I whisper against his lips.

"We aren't friends."

"What are we then?"

Peeta presses his lips to mine again before answering. "Are we together?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Despite that we're getting married in the New Year, for God's sake, would you like to be my girlfriend?" Peeta asks, his eyes bright.

"I'd be honoured." I say, trying (and failing) to fight the grin that appears on my face, before kissing him again.

After my father's death, I built up impenetrable walls around my heart and mind, a defence system the Capitol would be in awe of. I let nothing in, and kept myself as an emotion-free member of society. My head was reserved in a permanent state of survival. My heart was inaccessible – or so I thought.

Perfectly timed, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Peeta Mellark comes along, and within the space of a few months he has pushed aside those protective shields as if they were made of cardboard and wreaked havoc with my heart and mind. If he can charm me, he can do anything. My mother likes him, Prim loves him for goodness sake and-

"Fuck!" I exclaim, pushing Peeta away.

"What?" he asks, his eyes wide as he grips my arms, panting slightly, his cheeks flushed from the kiss. I'm sure I look exactly the same.

"I forgot Prim!" I cry, my hands going up to my hair. "She was dancing with Rory and I just disappeared with you and she was all alone and I have I go get her and-"

"Katniss."

"I can't believe it! If I can't look after Prim for ten seconds, what am I going to do with a baby?"

"Katniss listen for a second-"

"Quickly! We have to go and get her. Mom and Hazelle will kill me for leaving them behind!"

"Katniss! Prim is right there!" Peeta finally manages to say.

"WHAT?" I exclaim. Peeta grabs my shoulders and spins me around, and sure enough, through the window, sitting at the kitchen table with my Mom is Prim, eating a bowl of soup.

"Thank God," I breathe, my shoulders slumping. "I almost had a-"

"A heart attack?" Peeta offers, grinning at me. He thinks this is funny.

"Shut up and go home." I scowl. Peeta laughs, not even trying to hide it.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead and walk backwards away from me.

"Wipe that smirk off your face!" I call indignantly after him. "I was really worried!"

"I could tell." Peeta winks, before turning on his heel and walking away. I wait until Peeta is out of sight and head inside, my cheeks tingling at the sudden change in temperature. Mom has the fire roaring, and is heating some pans to put in our bed to warm them.

"Prim! I'm so sorry I disappeared, I went to the bakery with Peeta and forgot completely that you were there with Rory and I'm so sorry for leaving you," I say, dumping the paper bag on the table and behind down to hug my little sister, who makes an 'oof' sound and drops her spoon.

"Katniss, it's fine. Rory walked me home. And Greasy Sae was walking a little way behind us," Prim shakes her head. "Don't worry."

"Did you both have a good time?" Mom asks, standing up and dishing up some broth from the pot over the fire.

"It was great! Rory bought me a set of ribbons!" Prim gushes, pulling a small package from her pocket.

"Katniss?" Mom prompts, handing me the bowl. I sit down and take a sip of the broth, trying not to think of the heated kiss Peeta and I shared in the square, and right in my doorstep not two minutes ago.

"I had fun," I nod. "But everyone knows about Peeta and I now."

"They do?"

"Yeah."

"How did they find out?" Prim asks.

"They guessed." I shrug.

"And are you okay with that?"

"I'll be fine." I smile. Mom squeezes my shoulder consolingly. Prim grins. I let out a breath, thinking about what tomorrow is going to bring.

Later that night, as Prim and I lay huddled beneath the blankets, trying to keep warm, my sister turns to me. "I thought you had fallen asleep." I say, tucking a strand of her golden hair behind her ear.

"I've just been thinking about how I'll miss you," she whispers. I pull her towards me, holding her tight and resting my chin on her head.

"I'll miss you too, Little Duck. But you can come visit Peeta and I whenever you want."

"Are you excited?"

"I suppose so. Right now I just want to get some sleep."

"Peeta tire you out?" she giggles. I push her away slightly, only to see a mischievous smirk on her lips. "I saw you two kissing in the square in front of everyone, and on the porch."

"Prim!" I hiss. She shrugs.

"I think it's cute." She says. I'm mortified.

"Don't you tell Mom." I tell her.

"Girls, I am just four feet away. I can hear you," Mom says from the darkness. Prim snorts with laughter and I groan, hiding my face under my pillow.

"He'll be a good husband. And I'm gaining a brother out of this..."

"Three, actually." I remind her. Prim sighs and rolls not her back.

"Tomorrow is going be interesting."

"Interesting is an understatement."

Peeta

Saturday morning dawns bright and crisp and cold. Overnight it did snow, but only a couple of centimetres, nothing compared to the deep, house-height drifts that we're used to dealing with. The snow has come late this year. Normally we'd be wading through the white stuff, knee-deep and freezing as early as November. And now it's nearing Christmas Day, and we've only just had our first snow fall.

Last night, after I got home from dropping Katniss back at her house, Dad, my brothers and even Mom stayed in the living room. We watched TV because there was a national news update on bad weather that as sweeping over Panem, and how the fishing levels in District 4 had dropped dramatically.

Mom didn't speak to me willingly throughout the evening, deciding to remain facing the television, watching some silly Capitol soap opera starring a guy from Four who could only be described as an Adonis, with perfect skin and hair and teeth. All the girls in the program cooed and blushed whenever he did anything as simple as breath. I wondered who the bronze man was, and whether he actually enjoyed being in such garbage like this.

Fen and Rye pulled out a battered dartboard and we had a heated competition, full of cursing and threats, until it was past midnight. Mom had long since retired to bed, and that just left me to pack up my stuff. Dad came in at one point, and patted me on the shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, son." He had said.

"Thanks, Dad."

"You enjoy your last night under this roof, okay?" he advised me. "Because it's going to be hell when that baby gets here. You'll go without sleep for longer amounts of time than you thought possible."

"The baby isn't due until April, Dad. I've got plenty of time," I say. Dad chuckles, rubbing his hand over his jaw.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. But the next few months will go by just like that," he snaps his fingers. "And before you know it, you'll be a father."

I sit back, leaning against the wall and hold my head in my hands. "A sixteen year old father."

"Who would've guessed, hey?"

"Not me, that's for sure."

"I didn't think I was gonna be a grandfather in my forties."

"Yeah... Sorry 'bout that," I say. "But what do you want to be called? Grandfather Mellark? Granddad? Grandpa? Pa?"

He begins to chuckle as the list gets longer. "Oh, I'm yet to decide. I'll let you know as soon as possible though."

"Good."

"Word has gotten around, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. I kind of kissed Katniss in front of everyone."

"Delilah said that she kissed you back," I shrug. "So it's going we'll, between you and Katniss?"

"Yeah. Things are good."

"Is she ready to move into a new house with you?"

"No."

"Are you?"

"Definitely not."

"Thanks for giving me so much reassurance, son." I look and grin.

"You're welcome."

"Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"Sure thing," I say, looking across my room and the piles of stuff that I'm moving. I've had this bedroom all my life. Mom is turning it into her own private office when I'm gone, she made that clear. All my furniture is going to be in Katniss and mine's house. It's going to be really weird.

And now, the following morning as I stand in front of the bathroom mirror and comb my hair back, I can't say that I feel any less nervous about today as I did last night.

It's half nine, and I've just helped Dad with the eight a.m. morning rush of miners. Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day are when the mines are closed; so we don't have to worry about baking for the early morning workers over those three days. After helping with that, and shaking several hands of people I probably hadn't spoken to before when they congratulated me on snagging 'Lowell's girl', I went up to my room to pack away the few books I have, my clothes and my other stuff, leaving the wardrobe and desk empty so they are easier to carry. It's going to be icy, and I don't want any accidents while we carry furniture across town. We would usually use a horse and cart to transport heavy items, but there wasn't anyone who was willing to let us borrow their horse.

So instead of a cart, we'll be carrying our stuff around the district, trying not to slip over.

It should be fun, provided no limbs are broken.

I walk to the Everdeen house at about eleven o'clock to pick up Katniss. We've decided to go to our new house first, and then go back to the bakery to direct everyone to the correct building. My breath pushes steam through the air as I walk, and I can feel my ears going numb. Prim answers the door the second my knuckles make contact with the door and invites me inside.

"Katniss is just getting ready. She overslept," she explains with a smile, bouncing on her heels. I notice that she has gap in between her two front teeth, just like Katniss. Prim, however, doesn't have the small dusting of freckles over her nose that I adore so much.

"Does she normally get up early?" I ask, rubbing my hands together.

"Yeah," Prim nods her head. "To go hunting. But last night she couldn't get to sleep because the baby kept moving and this morning she was out cold until about an hour ago."

"An hour?" I ask. "Is that not enough time to wake up?"

"Apparently not…" Prim giggles. "She moped around for the best part of it, moaning about her feet aching."

"I did not!" Katniss says indignantly as she enters the room. "Hey, Peeta. Are you ready to go?"

"Yep," I nod, before turning to Primrose. "What about you?"

"Prim and Mom are going to join us when Greasy Sae's son drops off the crib," Katniss explains before her sister can speak. She wraps the same blue scarf she wore last night around her neck and picks up a large box that's sitting on the kitchen table.

"Let me carry that."

"I'm fine."

"Katniss… come on. If your feet are hurting I don't want-" Katniss gives me a stubborn look and I relent.

"Katniss, when a gentlemen offers to do something for you, you stop being stubborn and let him," Mrs Everdeen scolds softly from her position by the kitchen sink. I forgot she was even there, she's so quiet.

"Mom," Katniss scowls. "I'm quite capable."

"I don't mind," I say, a smile on my lips. Prim grins. Katniss sighs and pushes the box towards me. I take it from her with a satisfied smile that my fiancé doesn't miss.

"We'll see you in a little while," Mrs Everdeen says as we leave.

"Thank you, Mrs Everdeen." I say, pushing the front door open. Katniss steps outside.

"Dahlia, please."

"Thank you, Dahlia," I repeat. Mrs Everdeen smiles softly and returns to washing a pot.

"Give me the box." Katniss demands as soon as we are out of sight of her house.

"Katniss, I'm going to carry it whether you like it or not."

"Stop being stubborn."

"I'm not the stubborn one."

"Shut up." Katniss says, but her eyes are teasing. I bump my shoulder against hers.

"Do you want me to carry you too? Since your feet are hurting so much?" I question.

"My feet don't hurt."

"So Prim was lying?" Katniss shoots me a look.

"Fine. My feet do hurt. But I've had worse." She says, her hands deep in the pockets of her coat. I can see the hood of my wrestling jacket sticking out of the top. She pulls it over her head, and yanks her braid out so it's over her shoulder.

"I thought little girls only wore ribbons." I say, pulling on the green ribbon tied at the bottom of her braid where there would normally be a tie.

"I'm only sixteen," she reminds me. I pull a face. She shoves my arm. "Prim insisted that I wear it. She doesn't like green."

"And you actually wore it?"

"Yes, Peeta. I actually did," Katniss says, stopping and standing still. "We can go back now and get you a ribbon too if you want. We still have time."

"I'm more suited to blue."

"You'd look good with some ribbons in your hair." Katniss says, threading her fingers through my hair. I shiver at her touch, the feeling of her fingers winding through my curls sending a tingling feeling down my spine.

We reach the bakery pretty quickly, the thought of warmth by the ovens making us move faster. Dad is mopping the floor when we enter the kitchen, and we tread carefully over tiles as he complains about how many times he's mopped the damn floor today. I put the boxes of my possessions on the table and Dad goes to get Rye and Fen, who have been hiding in their bedrooms all morning in hope that they won't have to help. It takes about ten minutes for my brothers to climb grumpily down the stairs.

"Jesus, you'd think we were sending them to war," Katniss says.

"This is war." Rye grimaces.

"And child labour," Fenton adds. "We should be getting paid for this."

"You're twenty, Fen," I say. "You're an adult."

"Help your brother, boys. Don't be lazy." Dad admonishes, putting the mop aside.

It takes another painfully cold fifteen minutes to reach the road that our house is on, and five minutes of wiggling the key in the keyhole of the front door before the lock clicks into place and the doors swings open. Katniss lets out a little cheer and steps inside.

The front of the house is plain, like all the other houses in the Merchant Quarters, a blank canvas for each family. It's small, with two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, and a kitchen, living room and pantry downstairs. It's stark and empty, and bitterly cold. Sitting in the fire are a few logs, and Katniss bends down and starts a fire, warming her hands. She heads upstairs to investigate and I follow close behind. We stand in the corridor and find that the bathroom is missing a door.

"We'll have to get that spare door in the basement." I say.

"You have a spare door?" Katniss asks.

"We probably have the contents of an entire house in our basement. It's a jungle in there," I reply. Katniss shakes her head and continues into the other rooms.

"This can be the baby's room," she says, stepping side and pulling at the thin lace curtains that are draped over the window. "But we're washing these curtains." She says, her nose turned up as she holds up the stained material.

"I see you've given us the biggest room." I say. Katniss blushes.

"Obviously."

We head back to the bakery to lead everyone else there, and Mrs Everdeen and Prim can be seen walking down the hill when we arrive. Katniss goes off to help them pull a small and very wobbly end-of-it's-life cart which has been laden with pieces of wood that I assume will end up as a crib. I go through the backdoor of the bakery and find Dad instructing Rye on the best way to carry my wardrobe down the stairs. With a lot of perseverance, we fit it though the doorway and begin the descent down the stairs.

"For fucks sake," Rye hisses when he gets squished up against the wall as we navigate a corner. "This isn't what I imagined I would be doing on a Saturday. Helping my baby brother move house. Never again!"

"Stop muttering Rye and move to the left," Dad says from somewhere behind us. I can practically hear my brother rolling his eyes.

Fen holds open the back door and we begin to carry the wardrobe down the street, Fen and Dad on one end, Rye and I on the other. Katniss and Prim follow close behind, pulling the cart, and Mrs Everdeen carries a suitcase of my painting equipment. I can only wonder what people are thinking as we stagger past with a wardrobe and a carriage full of wooden poles.

And this is how we spend the next three hours, stumbling around with pieces of my bedroom. Rye swears colourfully, and Katniss covers Prim's ears as she insults my brother with equally rude words. My father and Dahlia chat quietly together for most of the afternoon, laughing and clearly talking about Katniss and me as we move from house to house.

"You know they dated when they were younger?" I say to Katniss from behind a stack of three chairs.

"Really?" she asks, craning her neck back to look at the subject of our conversation.

"Yup. But your Mom married your Dad because he had a beautiful voice."

"I didn't know that," Katniss says, her eyes wide.

"I guess it's kind of weird, their children getting married."

"And fucking!" Fen reminds helpfully. Katniss juggles the box she's carrying into one arm and punches my eldest brother's arm as hard as she can without falling or dropping the box.

"Shut up, Fen!"

"Just think, you've got to live with him as your brother for the rest of your life," I remind her. Katniss' eyes widen and she locks her jaw, trying to hold back an insult.

"And I thought Rye was bad enough," she grumbles. I nudge her arm and gesture towards Rye, who's walking a little way ahead with Prim on his shoulders.

"He isn't that bad." Katniss shakes her head and laughs.

Dad and Fen head off to help at the bakery at about two o'clock, and Rye runs off to hang out with his friends after giving me an awkward goodbye hug. I think, even though they haven't said it, my brothers are sad that I'm leaving. Call me delusional, but I think it's a little bit true. Mrs Everdeen is called to a surprise birth, and Prim eagerly goes with her, leaving Katniss and myself to carry an endless load of boxes and a door to carry. We're half dragging, half carrying the door destined for our new bathroom down the street when Gale appears seemingly out of nowhere.

"You want some help?" he asks, completely ignoring me.

"Why are you here?" Katniss scowls. I assume from her tone of voice that she still hasn't forgiven him just yet.

"Word spreads like wildfire, Catnip."

"Wildfire spreads pretty fast, Gale. Why weren't you here sooner to help?"

"Your brother-in-law didn't look to welcoming."

Katniss drops the door and I let it down, stretching my arms out. "We're just fine, but thanks for offering the help with the last thing we need to move."

Hawthorne blanks me again. "Oh, so now he speaks for you?" he demands.

"He has a name, Gale!" Katniss snaps. "Peeta doesn't speak for me, but I'm sure that he wants you to piss off just as much as I do. I still haven't forgiven you for being such an asshole." An amused snort escapes my lips and I attempt to hide it with a cough. Hawthorne seems to find his friend's insult funny as well, and smirks. It makes Katniss even angrier, and he finally stops smiling.

"I want to apologise."

She narrows her eyes at him. "It isn't me who needs an apology," I raise my eyebrows. An apology isn't something I'd normally be bothered about, but watching Hawthorne saying sorry to me is definitely something I want to see. He turns, and with great effort says:

"Look, man. I was angry… I still am… but I'm sorry," he holds out his hand for me to shake, looking like he's just walked over hot coals.

"No harm done," I say, even though there evidently was. Taking his hand, I shake it once. He narrows his eyes, and suddenly the handshake is very tense.

He lets go of my hand and turns to Katniss. "Catnip, can you meet me? Tomorrow? I want to talk to you."

"Fine," Katniss says, and he nods at her before walking away like his ass is on fire. Katniss picks up her end of the door. "What is it with guys and making handshakes like some contest of who is more masculine? I mean, really. I could almost feel the testosterone." I chuckle and we continue walking.

Once we're inside the house, we carry the door upstairs and lean it against the wall.

"Do you have some screws?" Katniss asks, turning around to face me. I nod, smiling down at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Am I not allowed to look at you?"

"Not like that."

"Close your eyes then," I say. Katniss reluctantly does, and then opens one eye to keep watch. "You can trust me." I whisper. She closes her eye again.

"What are you doing?" She asks. I say nothing, but step forward. "Peeta?" I gently press my lips to hers, like I've been wanting to all day, and she stumbles backwards against the wall. The kiss is slow and sweet and filled with a thousand promises, fears, and hopes. Katniss twines her fingers with mine and leans into the kiss, her nose brushing against mine as I hold her against the wall with my chest pressed against hers. It's the most physical we've been since that night so long ago, and when I pull away, the flush on her cheeks shows that she realises it too.

"What was that for?" She asks.

"Welcome home, Katniss," I murmur. She kisses me again.

"It is now," she whispers, pulling away. "It is now."