A/N: edited 05/01/15

Chapter 25: Obstacle Course

Katniss

What wakes me isn't a bad dream. Or a bad memory. Or the urge to pee. But is instead the feeling of being alone. Peeta's warm body is not next to mine. The bed is cold and empty and the window is shut.

Sitting up, my hair a dark mane around me, I wait for my eyes to adjust as it is early in the morning, about three thirty a.m. Everything is quiet. Too quiet to make me feel comfortable. I creep out of bed and pull open the door, searching for my fiancé. Golden light spills out from the bathroom door and my shoulders slump and I let out a sigh of relief. Peeta is here. I am not alone. He's only in the bathroom. I return to the bed and curl up half on his pillow, half on mine, inhaling his scent, letting it lull me back into the peaceful darkness of sleep.

When I wake up again, it is no longer dark out. The moon and stars have been replaced by weak sunlight and cold, porcelain-coloured skies that promise ever more snow. I turn onto my back and stretch, rubbing my swollen stomach thoughtfully before sitting upright, my back against the headboard, blankets pooling messily around me. I only allow myself to really pay attention to my tummy in the mornings, when I know that Prim and Mom will either be asleep or somewhere else in the house. But Mom and Prim are no longer here. Beside me, Peeta is lying on his stomach, his neck twisted at an angle as to allow him to breath, snoring softly. They're barely noticeable, his snores. I find them quite sweet. He looks so calm in his sleep, child-like, almost.

Satisfied that Peeta is still asleep, I tentatively pull my shirt up to reveal my bare stomach and run my fingers over my skin. The feeling of my baby moving never ceases to amaze me, in a quiet, strange sort of way. My peacefulness is disrupted when Peeta turns over and sighs deeply, scrubbing at his face. I yank my shirt down.

"Hey," I murmur gently, smoothing my hair. Peeta opens his eyes, and the stunning blueness of his irises shocks me. Compared to his pale exterior of creamy skin and blonde curls, his eyes stand out like a sore thumb. But in a good way, obviously.

"Morning," he smiles, his voice gruff from sleep, a lazy smile on his lips. I push his hair from his eyes. He still looks exhausted. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have recently," I reply cheerfully. And I'm not lying.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I have gotten a good night sleep. Usually I'm up before dawn to go hunting or run errands, and don't get to sleep until late at night. Even if I manage to have an early night or a lay-in, I always have horrible dreams that wake me, or sleep so lightly that the slightest of noises, like a dog barking a few streets over or Prim mumbling in her sleep, can wake me repeatedly. With Peeta, however, I have had a good rest. He seems to have a calming presence about him.

"Good." He nods.

"What about you?" I ask, remembering the dark circles that have hung under his eyes recently. Leaning closer, I find that they're still there, marring his skin like a bruise. "You still have shadows."

"I'm fine," he says, placing a reassuring hand on my cheek. I grimace, not happy with his answer. "Would you like breakfast in bed?"

"Yes please. Do you want any help?"

"No, no. You just lay back and relax." He climbs to his feet and exits the room. I stare at the bed sheets, and not at his ass through his sweat pants and he walks away.

Below me in the kitchen I can hear Peeta cooking something, and my stomach rumbles when a delicious scent wafts up to me. I gather my hair to one side and braid it, keeping it out of my face. I cross the hallway into the bathroom and splash some water on my face, before returning to the bedroom. I almost trip over Peeta' boots, which he's placed neatly by the door, the heals up against the sideboard.

On closer inspection, I notice that his usually clean shoes are covered in a layer of coal dust, and the toes are all scuffed. I crouch down and pick up the shoes, turning them over in my hands. My fingers come away stained black. I frown and go to the window, hissing as the cold air hits me. I clunk the shoes together in an effort to get the dust off, but have to retreat back into the relative warmth of the house when the glacial winds make me start to shiver. I return the boots back to their original position and brush off the coal dust from my hands. The damn stuff gets absolutely everywhere. It's not surprising that so many people, mostly Seam, suffer from diseases in their lungs.

Going to the bed, I straighten out the duvet and the pillows and sit cross-legged with a blanket over my lap. Peeta arrives a few minutes later, balancing a tray in one hand and two cups in the other.

"Where did you get all this food from?" I ask him, my eyes widening at the feast he's brought up. "It's just breakfast."

"Well, you're eating for two and we've got a big day ahead of us," he shrugs, placing the tray down and sitting beside me. "And I'm simply hungry."

"So, what have we to eat?" I ask.

"Orange juice, some savoury cupcakes, toast, cheese buns and an apple."

"Cheese buns!" I grin, snatching up the item and taking a bite, my cheeks reddening when I let out a groan of delight. Peeta smiles at me eating. "Sorry. I just really love cheese buns." I add.

"I know you do, that's why I made them."

"Well aren't you clever?" I tease. Peeta throws a leftover piece of crust from the toast at me. I scowl. "Why would you waste perfectly good food?"

"I don't think I need to worry about food going to waste." He chuckles, looking down at my hand. Clasped in between my thumb and index finger is my second cheese bun. I clap my hand over my mouth, my eyes widening. Peeta only made three buns, and I've chomped my way through the majority of them already without even noticing.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Did you want one?" I ask, mortified at my lack of manners.

"No, no. You eat them. I don't mind."

"Really?"

"Go ahead," Peeta grins, taking a sip of the orange juice. Slightly hesitantly, I finish the bun I have in my hand before reaching for the last. As I examine the pastry, the dough oozing with creamy cheese and butter, I suddenly have a craving for chocolate.

Not the cheap kind that comes with the Harvest packages from the Capitol, but the rich, deliciously scented kind that melts in your mouth. This craving surprises me, especially since I've only ever had chocolate a few times and it wouldn't seem like my brain would have remembered the treat enough to want to crave it.

"Have we got any chocolaty stuff?" I ask eagerly, my mouth filled with food. Peeta frowns and narrows his eyes as he thinks, chewing on the toast.

"I'm not sure. There might be some in one of the boxes. You'll have to have a loo-"

Long before Peeta can finish his sentence, I'm up and scrambling out of the room, making a beeline for the kitchen. Peeta calls my name, but I continue on my warpath, tearing open the few boxes of food Peeta and I have managed to pull together.

"Katniss?" he asks, appearing at the doorway of the kitchen with a look of amusement on his face. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I need chocolate."

"I might have some of the chocolate syrup that Dad uses to make icing, but I'm not sure."

"Where?" I demand.

"Uh, somewhere," he scratches his head, looking around. I place my hands on my stomach, just in time to feel the baby move a little. Peeta's eyes shoot to watch, his hands twisting together.

"Your kid's getting impatient." I scowl. Peeta gives me a withering look.

"So is my fiancé." He begins searching through the boxes, removing various jars and tins and bags with much more care than I. He eventually pulls out a heavy tin and cranks the lid off, holding it out to me warily. I snatch it from him and – to his disgust – begin to pour some of the thick syrup onto the cheese bun.

"Oh yeah." I grin, before sinking my teeth into it.

Peeta grimaces. "What are you doing?"

"Hormones." I explain. Peeta rolls his eyes.

"Whatever."

"Don't judge me."

"I'm not."

"Yeah you are," I wrinkle my nose, swallowing the cheesy, doughy, sticky concoction. "I can feel it." Peeta chuckles and I dip the spoon into the jar again and spoon more of the syrup into my mouth, feeling the thick, gloopy substance sticking to the roof my mouth. This is likely to rot my teeth and make me throw up, but I don't care. It tastes too good to stop, and satisfies the deep-seated craving that's consuming me like I'm consuming this syrup.

"Uh, Katniss. Not that I don't want you to eat what you want… but that stuff it expensive," Peeta speaks up, watching me with a disbelieving smile on his liops. I reluctantly hold the jar out, and he takes it from me with a rueful smile.

"It's so good though," I groan, licking my lips.

"I'll make some cookies, if you want?" I nod eagerly, like a puppet, and he chuckles. I've been here less than a day and I'm already eating everything we have. Peeta has brought the tray of delicacies downstairs with him and peels the apple with a knife, handing me slices as I perch on the countertop, swinging my legs back and forth. He's watching me intently as I eat, and keeps pushing his hair out of his eyes, growing more pissed off each time his hair flops over his forehead.

After finishing breakfast, I get dressed and tell him that I'm going to talk to Gale.

"Be careful in the forest, Katniss. And wrap up warm," he advises as I groan and pull another knitted scarf around my neck dramatically.

"Alright, Mom." I roll my eyes. Peeta walks towards me with a smile, his eyes impossibly blue, his golden curls tousled from sleep.

"I'll probably be at the bakery when you get back, so I guess I'll see you later in the afternoon."

"See you later," I smile, standing up onto my tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before ducking out of the doorway. The cold air hits me and I shiver, rubbing my hands up and down my hands in an effort to keep warm.

On the way to the forest, I'm greeted with snide remarks and scathing glares from townies and Seam folk alike. As much as I try to ignore it and pretend that they aren't there, I find myself looking down at the ground with a perpetual grimace. It hurts. It really does. And what surprises me is that I have to physically force myself to keep walking, and not turn around and run back to the house I must now call a home. Because Peeta is there. He'll hold me and tell me that it's okay.

Sliding under the fence is slightly harder than last time, and I catch my coat on the sharp metal spokes several times. Undeterred, I continue walking through the icy forest. I can see Gale sitting at our usual meeting spot, his shoulders hunched in the cold under his jacket. I swallow. I haven't seen or spoken to him in so long, and now I'm worried. Worried that this is it for us. That our friendship is going to be over.

"Gale," I greet him, keeping my voice level. He turns and spots me, and a large smile appears on his face.

"Catnip!" he exclaims much more excitedly than I expected, standing up and walking towards me. Although I'm not sure if I want him to or not, he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight, so tightly in fact, that I can barely breathe.

"Hey," I say, once he's let me go. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he replies, sitting back down on the flat boulder. "How about you?"

"I'm doing alright."

"Dough Boy treating you right?" He asks, his grey eyes hardening.

"Gale…"

"If he isn't, I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind."

"Jesus Christ, Gale. He's my fiancé. He's treating me well," I snap. "If you go and fight him again, I'm never going to forgive you! What is your problem?"

"My problem?" he splutters, making the atmosphere change in a split second. So much for a friendly conversation where we made up and became friends again. "My problem is that he knocked you up and now you've practically disappeared off the face of Panem!"

"I have not disappeared! You just acted like a complete jackass, and that's why I've 'disappeared'!" I exclaim, making quotation marks in the air.

"Katniss, why don't you understand?" he asks, holding his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair. "You don't deserve to have to do this!"

"I have no choice! I have to look after my baby. And I can't leave Peeta out of his child's life. It isn't fair."

Gale steps forward, his eyes pained. "No, what isn't fair is that I've lost my best friend."

I sigh and look down at my feet. "I'm sorry, okay? You're my best friend too. I've missed you, I'll admit to that, but you should be apologising to Peeta, not me."

"I've already apologised. Dough Boy-"

"Peeta."

"Whatever. He accepted it, so I don't see what the problem is."

"That's just how Peeta is. He forgives people," I say softly. "It's his nature."

Gale reaches over to tug on the end of my braid, and I can't help but think back to Peeta's words about how he really views me. "I miss you, Catnip."

"I know."

"Please forgive me."

"I want to know why you did it, first." I demand, crossing my arms over my chest – which has increased in size a crazy amount in the past few weeks – and raising my eyebrows.

"I was angry," Gale tells me. "One minute you were just Catnip. And the next minute you're… you're engaged and pregnant. I didn't know what to think…" He sighs heavily. "So I just… reacted. Showing him how I felt was the only thing I could think of doing." I stand there, processing what I've just been told. He cares about me, obviously. Even though I'm still a little angry, I feel myself beginning to understand why he reacted the way he did.

Shaking my head, I scrub my face with my gloved hands and sigh. "I forgive you," I say. "But please, please, understand that I'm happy. You don't need to protect me. I'm not made of glass."

"Thank you." Gale murmurs.

"You want a cupcake?" I ask, fishing the blueberry muffin I snatched from breakfast from my jacket pocket and changing the subject.

"He's fattening you up," he smirks, eyeing the muffin like a vulture.

"That's a side effect of pregnancy." I say sarcastically, splitting the cupcake in two and handing him the bigger half.

"How do your clothes still fit?"

"Shut up." I growl. He chuckles.

"Am I still invited to the wedding?"

"You were never invited in the first place. With all the stress of dealing with the engagement, and the baby, and moving in with each other, we haven't had time to really think about wedding plans."

"I'll be your maid of honour."

I smirk, nudging his side as we sit side by side. "I don't think you have the legs for a dress."

He laughs, stretching his gangly limbs out in front of him. "You're just jealous."

"Yeah, okay." I roll my eyes. Feeling comforted at out renewed friendship, I stay out in the forest for a few more hours. We chat aimlessly, catching up with the things we've missed in all the weeks we've been apart. "What are you doing for Christmas?" I ask.

"The usual. I'll go round yours and get Prim and your Mom, and then we'll eat over at my place."

"Prim and Mom are coming for dinner at Peeta and mine's house, actually, though you're all welcome. We have plenty of food." Gale wrinkles his nose.

"Don't you think it would be a little tense?"

"Probably, but you two need to stop acting like children and face up to each other. I'll sit you at the ends of the table so you have a bigger distance between each other."

"I'll think about it." Gale says, his brow furrowed. We fall into silence, following a winding path that creeps up a hill and past a tiny stream.

"You're not in the mines, are you?" I ask.

"Not this winter."

"Good." I smile. Another thing for me to stop worrying about. Gale has worked in the mines many times, trying to get some extra income.

"You know, the snow hasn't arrived as early as last year and stuff, so I've been able to trade for longer."

"Posy wants a new doll, doesn't she?"

"Yup," Gale nods, his eyes sad. "She knows that money is tight, but she's my sister. She should have dolls and pretty dresses."

"I understand," I say, placing my hand on his arm consolingly. "You know what that same little girl would like?"

"What?"

"A townie Christmas dinner." I tease, hinting to my invite.

"Oh, so you're a townie now?" he asks, ignoring my jibe and stepping off the rock, deeper into the forest, navigating across the frozen over stream that blocks out path when we reach it,

"Like a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"You can take the girl out of the Seam, but you can't take the Seam out of the girl," he says, landing on the bank and dry ground silently, like a mountain lion.

"Damn right," I say, stepping forward, my arms outstretched to keep my balance. But as I open my mouth to say something, I walk onto the ice and it cracks under my weight. I stumble, my hands out in front of me to break my fall. Gale yelps, jumping forward to catch me with a tight grip on my arms. "I'm heavier than I remembered." I gasp as he lifts me onto the bank.

"Yeah, you are," he says, flexing his arms as I brush myself down and check for injuries. I landed on my right knee pretty heavily, and a throbbing ache radiates through my leg. Peeta's going to have an aneurysm when he finds out. "Are you okay?" Gale asks, his brow creasing as I rub my knee.

"Just bruised it."

"And the...kid?"

"Fine, fine. I landed on my knee. It's okay."

"Should you be walking on a bad knee?"

"I'm fine, Gale." I insist.

"Because I don't want Dough Boy to rough me up for hurting his fiancé."

"You'd fight back." I say pointedly, and he backs off slightly, but doesn't stop watching me as we walk back towards the fence, fidgeting and waiting like I'm a deer he's tracking until I fall. Limping back home is a painful process and when I finally reach the doorway of my home, I lean against the wall with a heavy sigh of relief. Gale watches me, narrowing his eyes.

"You really didn't have to walk all this way, you know," I tell him.

He shrugs, indifferent, but it's nice that he cares. "I had to make sure you didn't slip."

"Well, thank you," I smile genuinely. Gale looks up at me and nods. I can tell he's feeling awkward and disjointed, unsure of how to act around me now. I haven't changed that much, have I? I pull him into a hug, inhaling his woodsy scent.

And then it hits me.

'He's in love with you!' Peeta's words echo in my mind, repeating over and over again like a scratched record. Gale pulls away after what most would find a very long hug, and his hands linger on my waist momentarily.

"You know that I love you, Gale. Don't you?" I ask carefully.

"I know."

"But just as a friend. Or like a brother." Gale's smile fades a little.

"I know." He repeats.

"Peeta said..." I say, pausing to collect my bearings. "He said that you loved me."

His face pales and he steps back, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Friends love each other."

"Yes. They love each other, but they are not in love with each other."

"Catnip, it's difficult to explain."

I bite my lip. "So do you love me, or are you in love with me?"

"Why does it matter?"

"It matters because I care about you. I care about Peeta. And I actually do care out this baby. I need to know."

Gale's eyes widen comically. "You love him!"

"What?" I ask, confused. "Don't change the subject."

"You love Peeta!"

"I care about him!"

"He'll be ecstatic."

I frown. Why is he redirecting this onto me? "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you didn't believe me when I said that he was in love with you, did you?" he asks, realisation dawning over his features.

"Peeta and I are just friends."

"Friends? Just friends? I'm your friend and I don't see us playing house."

"This baby was an accident!" I snarl, stepping closer to him in an effort to be intimidating, but the height difference just makes me look silly. Gale smirks down at me. "But a good accident. Peeta is a good man. He's going to be a great husband and a loving father. Don't criticise him."

"I'm not."

"You love me."

"It doesn't matter. Your heart has already been taken but that blonde-haired creep," he powers on, cutting me off before I can jump to Peeta's defence. "Don't throw a fit," Gale says. "And I think anyone would call staring at you for ten years and sketching you in private creepy, Catnip."

This throws me off for a while, and I stand there, shocked. "Don't say it like that, and it won't sound creepy."

"Defending him?" he asks slowly, as if I'm a child. "Boy, he has his hooks in you so deep."

"Fuck you Hawthorne. You're jealous because a townie got the girl."

"And you're just being a hormonal bitch."

"You are, not me!" I cry out, knowing that I'm sounding like a spoilt brat. "I think you're the pregnant one!" I say, jabbing him sharply in the stomach with my finger. He does the same without thinking and I cringe, grasping at my stomach protectively.

"If I were, I'd be the better parent."

My heart hammers in my chest. I can feel tears welling up but refuse to cry in front of him. He's just using my emotional state to his advantage and he knows I'm getting worked up. "How dare you accuse me of being a bad mother!"

Something flickers in his eyes. It's like a flash of lightening against a stormy sky, brief but terrifying. And then, to make everything even more complicated, he steps forward, grabs my face harshly, and kisses me with so much force that I'm pushed against the wall of the wall.

His lips are nothing like Peeta's. He's taking and taking and taking and giving nothing in return, leaving me feeling like he's taken little bits of me with every swipe of his tongue. My eyes are open the entire time, and I stand there, rigid as a board. And then the kiss is over and Gale steps back, his chest heaving, his eyes ablaze. The places his hands touched me are tingling as if I've been burnt.

"Never do that again." I stammer, shocked and unable to think straight.

He has the decency not look me in the eye, instead staring at the ground like a child being scolded like a parent. He knows he's crossed the line. He knows he's obliterated every single line that was ever drawn between us. "I had to at least try," he mutters, as if that can justify anything. The angry tension that was just between us has been replaced by shock so strong it makes me feel like stone.

"I'm going to go inside now," I whisper. He swallows, locks his jaw, and begins walking away. "You're still invited for Christmas dinner." I call after him. It's the first thing to come to my mind. I don't want Posy or Vick or Rory or Hazelle to miss out just because of this… whatever it was.

"Okay," he replies. I hastily retreat into the house, and just stand there for a moment, frozen. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, wrap up my knee in silence and fall asleep on Peeta's bed, and try to forget what has just happened.

I don't allow any tears to escape.

Gale Hawthorne is not going to make me cry any more.

Peeta

I cradle my hand carefully on the walk back home from work. It hurts like hell, my throbbing digits only being made worse by the cold weather. I've just turned onto the road of my new home when a hand grabs my arm, forcing me to stop.

"Mr Mellark?" A middle-aged woman asks, squinting up at me. I can tell she's trying to figure out whether she's got the right Mellark brother or not.

"Mrs Backman," I greet her and she smiles. Mrs Backman lives almost opposite Katniss and I, and used to run the sweet shop before her husband died. I'm used to seeing her buying bread back at the bakery, not as my neighbour. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I would say that it's more what I can do for you," she says, pursing her lips.

"What is it?"

"You're marrying that Everdeen girl, aren't you? The one from the Seam?" Mrs Backman asks, and I prepare for the likely onslaught of snide comments.

"Yes, that is correct."

"I assume that you are faithful and loyal to her, and do not fraternise with other women when your partner is not present?"

"Yes, of course." I say with a frown.

"I wouldn't say the same thing about your girl. I was walking back from my daughter's house, and spotted Miss Everdeen kissing Mr Hawthorne! In broad daylight too! Had him up against the wall of your house, and he seemed pretty eager as well, with his hands all over her."

"You must be mistaken." I stammer, shaking my head.

"I may be old, but my eyesight is still as good as yours. I know what I saw," she says, eyeing me. I adjust my bag, trying to rationalise. Katniss wouldn't do that. She told me that she didn't view Gale as anything other than a friend. I thought we were getting somewhere in our relationship.

"Okay, uh. Thank you, Mrs Backman," I smile weakly and she pats me on the arm as if she's done me a favour, mutters her apologies at being the bearer of bad news, and walks away.

I'm left there, standing in the street. Katniss would never kiss gale, would she? No, she's pregnant with my child and is going to marry me next month. Gritting my teeth, I head towards the house. I'll see if Katniss says anything before asking her myself. She wouldn't keep that from me.

The house is quiet when I push the front door open.

"Katniss?" I call, kicking off my boots and heading for the kitchen. No answer. I go into the kitchen to wash and bandage my hand, listen the entire time for sounds of movement. Racing up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time, I sigh in relief to see Katniss curled up on the bed, a blanket over her shoulders. I push her hair from her face, and almost jump out of my skin when she opens her eyes and stares at me.

"Hey," she whispers, her voice cracking.

"Hi." I greet her, waiting for her to say anything. Something. "You have a good day with Gale?"

"Yeah, it was nice to catch up with him again," she says, sitting up. She notices my bandaged hand. "What happened to your hand?" she asks, her voice rising an octave as she takes it gently in hers.

"Nothing much. Got it trapped in the door," I shrug it off and sit down on the bed beside her. "What about your knee?" I ask, looking down at her bandaged limb.

"I slipped on some ice. Nothing to worry about. I just need to rest it." She reaches up and brushes her hand through my hair and I wince as dust billows out onto my bed sheets.

"Damned stuff gets everywhere," I joke. Katniss smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Is something wrong?" I ask. Is this the moment when she tells me? "You made up with Gale, didn't you?" She nods, looking away. I study her carefully. She looks cold and closed off. Guilty perhaps? "You tired?" I ask her, trying to act normal.

"A little."

"I'll heat up the stew from last night." I tell her.

"I'll be down in a minute, let me change first." I kiss the top of her head and leave the room, heading downstairs to heat up the leftovers from yesterday. Slicing a loaf of bread, I power through pain of my hand, using it to anchor me to reality. My head is spinning. My eyes feel heavy. I'm just so tired. I reckon I would fall asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, but this new information from Mrs Backman is like a jolt to my system, forcing me awake and to run on nothing but fumes.

"Good timing." I comment as Katniss enters the room, just as I'm placing the bowls of stew down onto the table.

"Smells good," she smiles, pulling a sweater over her head. Her shirt rises over her stomach, and I spot a blossoming bruise.

"Ouch, how did you do that?" I ask her, stepping closer.

She stares at me. "Do what?"

"That bruise. On your stomach," I explain, prying her layers of clothing up to reveal her bare belly to me. Just below her navel is a small purple mark.

"I poked Gale and he poked me back," she shrugs. I frown, flattening my fingers over her warm skin. Gale. Of course.

"Poked or stabbed?"

"It was an accident," she says quietly, not meeting my gaze. "Don't worry about it."

Unsatisfied and uncertain about Katniss' answer, I pull out her chair and we sit down to eat. She doesn't ask for chocolate with the main meal, but asks whether I made cookies. "I made you some. As promised." I inform her, and she smiles down at her bowl. Her smile, however, doesn't last for long. We sit by the fire to eat the cookies, wrapped up in a blanket and she falls deathly silent, staring at the flames, deep in thought. She snuggles into my side, and I wrap my arm around her to keep her close.

"So your talk with Gale went well?" I ask softly.

"Yep." Katniss whispers. I nod in approval.

"Good. Is he still coming round for Christmas?"

"He said that he'd think about it."

Silence envelopes us. I sigh, leaning back against the sofa. This thing is eating my alive, chewing like a dog at a bone, weakening my resolve. My hands itch at the idea of Gale doing that to her, of her responding, and kissing him back with equal fervour as if I wasn't even a part of her life, as if she had never become involved in me and she able to continue her life as it should've gone.

"Did you kiss Gale?" I burst out, unable to hold it in any longer. I have to know. I need to know before it kills me.

Katniss stiffens, and I hear her sharp intake of breath. "Why would you think that?" She asks carefully.

"Someone told me that she saw you kissing Gale in the street," I tell her and she sits up, leaning back on her heels to look at me.

"It isn't what you think." She whispers, her voice wobbling slightly, her eyes shimmering. Oh, God.

It feels like my heart is being torn to pieces. Just when I thought we were getting somewhere, and she does this. I pull away from her and rest my elbows on my knees, holding my head in my hands. In addition to my tired state, the urge to cry is overwhelming.

"But you still kissed him."

"He kissed me."

"And you let him? Mrs Backman said it was in broad daylight, Katniss."

"It was in broad daylight but I didn't-"

"You pushed him up against the wall and kissed him back?" I ask, my words getting louder. Standing up, I face her, shifting my weight anxiously. She looks up at me with wide eyes, looking small on the floor.

"No!" she exclaims. "He just...just grabbed my face and kissed me against the wall and I couldn't pull away!"

"I can't believe this is happening," I say, squeezing my eyes shut and pacing back and forth. Katniss climbs to her feet and watches as I walk forwards and backwards in front of her. "Why didn't you push him away?"

"It took me completely by surprise and I didn't kiss him back. It was over before I could do anything and, and, and I didn't want him to kiss me!" she cries, steeping closer with her hands out stretched, trying to pacify the situaiotn.

"No, don't come near me. I need space." I shake my head. Ignoring my demands, Katniss winds her arms around me and doesn't let go.

"He kissed me. I just stood there and didn't kiss him back. I could get away because he pushed me against the wall and he's stronger than me and I was so surprised that I didn't know what to do! He apologised afterwards," she blurts, tripping over her words. "I told him never to do it again."

"Do you love him?"

"No! He loves me, but I only see him as a friend."

"You don't love him like that?"

"No."

I pause, looking down at Katniss, who is hugging me fiercely, her face buried into my chest. "I care about you, Katniss," I murmur and she releases a little chocked laugh, looking up at me and smiling, something flickering in her eyes.

"I know you do," She says. "I care about you too and you need to realise that Gale is nothing but a friend. And I don't even know if he's that anymore."

"I'm sorry for yelling."

"Do you trust me?"

I take a deep breath and look at her. I do trust her. I trust that she will be by my side no matter what, and if I can't do that, I don't deserve her. "Only if you trust me."

"With my life," she says softly, a smiling playing on her lips before she reaches up on her toes and presses her lips to mine. It takes me by surprise, especially when she walks me backwards until my back hits the wall. She opens her mouth, deepening the kiss, and I groan when she threads her fingers through my hair. Taking a chance, I trail my hands down, past her hips and grip her thighs, lifting her up so she can wrap her legs around my waist. The feel of her lips over mine, her tongue against mine and her chest pressed against my torso is intoxicating. I pull away and place open-mouthed kisses down her slender neck. She shivers, her head falling back to claim my mouth once again. A small sound, a whimper, a moan, escapes her and when she pulls away, her cheeks are bright red and her eyes are shining. I'm pretty sure I look just the same way.

"What was that for?" I chuckle.

"I didn't enjoy getting kissed by Gale, but I like kissing you," she confesses, biting her lip. I let her back on her own two feet but don't let go of her hips, my finger burning on the sliver of exposed skin I find there. "Let's go to bed." Katniss says, taking my hand and pulling me up the stairs. We change into our nightclothes and flop down under the blankets. She kisses me again but it's shorter and sweeter this time. She lies beside me, placing a hand on my chest, just above my heart. I'm pretty sure she can feel how fast it's beating, though if she does, she says nothing.

"Goodnight." I whisper into the darkness, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Goodnight, Peeta," she replies.

It's only when I'm sure she's asleep, that I tell her that I love her.

It's better that way.

For everyone.