Peeta.

My boy with the bread. My savior. The boy whose heart I'd shattered not a fortnight ago. He was actually here, standing in front of me.

When he sees me, his eyes light up for a split second before his memory comes rushing back, and his face registers nothing but pain, hurt, and anguish. It makes me feel even more guilty and remorseful than I'd ever thought possible.

If I had thought words would just magically spring to my mouth once I saw him, I was dead wrong. We just stood there staring at one another, neither of us making the first move or even making a sound. It felt like a year, but in reality it was probably only a few seconds.

His facial expression hadn't changed. It was tearing me up inside.

Before I knew what was happening, my upper lip is quivering and I feel tears sliding down my cheeks. My body fails me, my knees unable to hold up my frail figure. I lurch forward, afraid I am going to fall flat on my face. To my surprise, Peeta is there in an instant and envelops me into his arms, holding me up.

"Shh, Katniss, it's okay," Peeta murmurs, seemingly unsure of what was causing my apparent distress.

"N – n – no it's not!" I yell out between sobs.

He stands there, rubbing my back and my hair. It makes me feel even worse that I put him through so much pain, but he sees me hurting for a second and he's there to comfort me.

"Want to come in and talk about it?" He sighs after a few moments.

I can't possibly come up with the words, so I nod into his chest, my tears soaking his t-shirt.

He leads me quietly into his living room, his house a carbon copy of mine. He sits me down on the couch, and makes to leave the room.

"No!" I shout. I grab his wrist, pleading with my eyes for him to stay with me.

"Katniss, I'm just going to go make you some hot chocolate. I'll be right back," he gently tells me. I nod reluctantly, and he plots into his kitchen.

It takes me a minute to realize he is making me hot chocolate. He remembers how much I love it. That gives me a sliver of hope – he hasn't forgotten about me just yet.

He was back in a couple minutes and places the steaming mug in my slightly shaking hands. He patiently waits while I calm down and slowly drink the delicious cocoa, sitting on the other side of the couch, making no move to physically touch me. That disappoints me, but I know it was what I deserve.

After a few minutes, I am done with my drink and he takes it from my hands and places it on the floor. He turns to me, tucking his feet under him on the couch, and waits for me to speak. I mirror his actions.

This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I could set it all straight, tell him the god's honest truth. I can only hope he was as forgiving as I believed him to be. I can only pray with every fiber of my being that his feelings for me are as strong as they appeared.

"Peeta," I begin, my voice timid. "I've made a terrible mistake." I finally look into his eyes, and although the hurt is still there, I could also sense comfort and something else soft. It gives me courage.

"What do you mean?" He asks softly.

"Two weeks ago. I made the biggest mistake of my life. I lied to you," I explain slowly.

"What do you mean, you lied?" He asks in the same tone.

This was it.

"When I told you it was all an act during the Games. I was lying." I say this without once breaking eye contact, trying to convey my utter and complete honesty.

"Wait," he says confused. "What do you mean? You told me it wasn't real. I believed you. Do you have any idea what that did to me?" His voice slightly rises at the end, but he stays calm. How, I don't know.

"I was lying, Peeta. I swear. I know you have every right to not believe me and throw me out, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd hear me out and let me explain myself." I hold my breath. This was the do or die moment. He could listen, and maybe I can explain it well enough to repair us. Or, he could just tell me to leave, which I wouldn't blame him for doing.

"Of course I'll listen, Katniss," Peeta says after a few seconds of contemplation. I let out an audible breath, collecting my thoughts.

"Look, Peeta, this isn't easy for me. I've never been in any kind of relationship before. I have no idea what all these feelings inside me mean. All I know is that when we kissed in that cave, I never wanted it to end. When you told me to kill you, I threw down my bow and pulled out those berries because I just knew, deep down, I could never live without you. I don't know if that's a crush, or an attachment, or what, but I'd really like to find out."

"So why did you lie to me?" Peeta asks, his eyes relaying his hurt and frustration.

"I thought we'd both be better off. I'd never wanted that before, a relationship. I was afraid we'd both be hurt. I saw what happened to my mother after my father died, and it convinced me that love just hurts you in the end. It can tear you apart piece by piece. On the train ride home, I convinced myself that if I lied to you and told you it was all a sham, then you could go and find a better girl for yourself. Not a broken killer that had barely survived the Games. I made the decision for you. I can't ever tell you how sorry I am, Peeta. I've been so lost and depressed ever since that day, and I just had to tell you the truth. It was eating me up inside." There, I'd said it. Peeta studies my face, contemplating, digesting everything I'd just thrown at him. I don't think it escaped either of us that I'd actually used the word love in my monologue.

He sighs. I couldn't tell yet whether that was a good or bad thing.

"So did you come over here because you felt guilty and wanted to tell me the truth, or because you claim you have feelings for me?" He asks, somewhat frustrated. It is a fair question.

"Both. I felt as guilty as I've ever felt, that's true, but I just had to tell you how I actually feel. I had to see what would really happen, not what my mind had conjured up. And, Peeta, I don't claim to have feelings for you. I have feelings for you. I'm sure of it," I say confidently. That shuts him up, but only for a minute.

"Really?" He asks quietly.

I nod.

"But what about…what about…..Gale?" He asks even quieter.

Shit. I should've thought about this. We'd never talked about Gale. And if Peeta had noticed me as much as he said, he'd know how close we are. It's not a secret around the District that people spread gossip about us. About what they think we do in the woods. I wish they knew that we are just trying to keep our families alive.

"He's my friend," I explain. "Nothing more."

"You've never – um – kissed?"

"Peeta, you were my first kiss."

His face lit up when I said that. His hand tentatively bridged the gap between us, silently asking if it was okay, and I immediately latched on for dear life, intertwining our fingers to make the grasp more intimate. Things were actually starting to look up.

"Katniss," he starts, " I never want to hear you talk about yourself that way again. You're amazing. You're not a 'broken killer'. We did what we had to in order to survive. Never question that."

Wow. I'm speechless. Here I am, explaining why I broke his heart, and he turns it around on me, giving me words of encouragement. I've never had somebody like this in my life.

"Okay, I'll try. I promise," I quietly acquiesce.

"Good," he gives me a small smile. I feel one break out on my face. I'd missed his smile terribly.

"So, um, what now?" I ask.

"I don't know. This was your idea," he points out. We both chuckle softly.

"Can I – can I have a hug?" I ask him, looking down at my lap.

I don't hear him answer and I deflate. Maybe I'd read the situation wrong. I feel his hand slip from mine and my world was suddenly ending.

It was only a moment before I feel his strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close to him. My hands shoot up to his shirt, clutching it for dear life, trying to literally melt into him. The tears reappear, but they weren't of the sad variety. No, these were tears of pure, unadulterated joy. His face is buried in my neck and I could feel his soft breaths tingling me. It starts a warmth deep inside me that I hadn't felt since the last time we kissed.

He apparently feels the tears on his shirt from where my face is buried into him because I hear him softly telling me that everything is going to be okay. That only makes me cry harder, because now I actually believed it.

We sit there embracing each other for a long time. We'd both missed the contact, the undeniable pull between us. I knew he'd been as wrought with sadness as I'd been, so I was happy that I seemed to be making him better, even if I know it it just the beginning.

Suddenly I feel his lips lightly graze my neck, giving me a series of soft, feather light kisses. My breath hitches and my body instantly relaxes. This is what I crave. This is what I need to survive. This is what I'd denied myself when I'd let my ridiculous insecurities and pointless fears overtake my rational thoughts.

I lean my head up in response and return kisses onto his neck, which was actually kind of awkward considering the position we were in. I'd never done anything like this before, so I had no idea if I was doing it right, but it sure felt right.

After a few minutes of this, we slowly break apart, catching our collective breaths. Not willing to completely break our contact, I slide over as far as I could into his side. He wraps his arm around me and I lean into him, laying my head on his shoulder and sighing happily.

"So what does all this mean?" Peeta finally asks.

I thought about this for a minute. What did all this mean? What were we?

"I think it means that you're my boyfriend," I say completely seriously.

"Really?" He questions excitedly.

"Mmhmm," I nod, turning my head to look at him. What meets me is an expression of pure happiness in his eyes, a wide, beautiful smile gracing his lips. "If you're okay with that," I amend.

"Of course I am!" He quickly says. "I mean, yeah, I am." I laugh. "It's just – you know how long I've been dreaming of this, so you'll have to excuse me if I question whether or not this is actually happening. Whether or not this is real."

That I completely understood. I debate for a moment how to prove it to him.

Without hesitation, I shift my body, lean up, and kiss him sweetly on the lips. I pull back slightly and lean my forehead against his. We open our eyes and stare into each other's souls.

"Real enough?" I tease.

He nods, apparently unable to speak. I softly laugh and gave him another quick peck to his surprise. I settle back into his side. I suddenly realize that our first kiss without any cameras, without any external pressure. It's only fitting that it occurs so I can prove to him how real we actually are.

"I think I'm going to really like being your girlfriend," I state matter-of-factly.

When I look back up at him, his jaw is dropped. You could fly a hovercraft through his gaping mouth.

"What?" I ask.

"Katniss Everdeen is my girlfriend," he says, as if he didn't actually believe it still.

"Yes she is, Peeta Mellark," I laugh. "Wait – I can't believe I forgot – have you, um, ever had a girlfriend before?" I nervously ask.

"No, Katniss, I can happily say you're my first girlfriend," he replies sweetly.

And your last, If I have any say in the matter, I think. Whoa, where did that come from? I temporarily ignore it and move on.

"Why haven't you had any before?" I'm genuinely curious. He's sweet, handsome, polite, and a merchant's son. It only makes sense that he'd date.

"C'mon Katniss, that should be obvious. I was waiting for you."

Oh. My. God. What did I ever do to deserve someone like this?

"R – r – really?" I stutter.

"Of course," he replies instantly. "I thought you got that when I told you about the first day I saw you."

Thinking back, that probably should have tipped me off. However, I had so many swirling emotions in that cave it doesn't surprise me I didn't piece it together. My emerging feelings for Peeta, the fear of dying at any moment, the growing hope that we could actually make it out of the arena alive and together.

"Katniss, I'm assuming here, but am I your first boyfriend?" He quietly asks me, sounding somewhat unsure. "It doesn't matter to me, I was just wondering," he quickly adds. I smile at his cuteness.

"Yes you are, Peeta," I happily tell him. He breaks out into a beaming smile, and I can't help but return it.

"I really hope I'm not dreaming," he says, ironically dreamily.

"Me too," I reply. "I would hate to wake up and have to come over and see that look on your face again, knowing that I put the it there. Knowing that I made you hurt so much because of my selfishness."

"Shh, Katniss, that's all over now. I forgive you."

"You do?" I ask surprised. I'd only been here for about a half hour.

"Yes, I do. I'll be honest. At first I was really hurt and mad at you, especially when I thought you'd used me. But after a while I was just sad. Sad that I couldn't be with you after the Games had given me so much hope. Sad that I could tell you weren't in a good place either. Really, Katniss, if you had told me it was all an act, and you weren't lying, but you were happy, I'd be completely okay with that. I just want you to be happy."

"You make me happy," I quickly explain. He beams at me again.

"As do you," he replies. I smile back up at him.

He leans down, and I know exactly his intent. I meet him halfway, our lips meeting tenderly. We both are still fairly new at kissing, and don't really know what to do. After a moment we both start moving our lips like we'd seen in the movies. It was all I could think to do. My tongue, seemingly with a mind of its own, decides it wants in Peeta's mouth. It begs entry, and Peeta quickly obliges. We explore each other's mouths, and I am amazed at the feelings and emotions that swell up inside of me. This is what making out is like. Wow. No wonder people do this a lot.

We do this for a few more minutes, getting more used to the mechanics, but never to the feeling. I hope this never becomes routine.

When we finally, reluctantly, pull apart to catch our breaths, we both have matching stupid grins on our faces. We were both probably thinking the same thing – I can't believe this is actually happening. I had come over here hoping that maybe I could get Peeta to stop hating me, and now I had a boyfriend.

I curl myself back into his side and am ecstatic when he wraps his arm around me. Our free hands find each other and link, both of us rubbing the other's hand with our thumb. We sit in comfortable silence, taking in all that has occurred.

"Do you ever get nightmares?" I ask.

"Yeah," Peeta replies glumly. "I haven't slept much since we got back, but when I do, I'm right back in the arena."

"Me too," I tell him. "They're terrifying. I keep seeing Rue die all over again. I keep seeing Cato killing you. I scream and scream and scream but I can never save you. My bow is always just out of reach."

"Oh, Katniss," he sighs. "I'm so sorry. I wish you didn't have to go through that."

I nod sadly. "What do you have nightmares about?"

"Losing you," he says simply. My heart breaks all over again for him. I know exactly what that's like from my own nightmares, and I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

"Do you think anything can help?" I desperately ask.

He shrugs. "When I wake up, I have to know you're alive. I look out my window and most of the time I can see your lights on, or see you through the window, and I calm down knowing you're not dead."

Oh, my poor Peeta. What has the Capitol done to this boy? What had he ever done to deserve this besides being born in the Districts?

I get an idea from his explanation.

"What if – um – what if I stayed here with you?" I timidly ask.

"Katniss….," he starts. "I don't know about that. We're only sixteen. We literally just became a couple." My heart soars when he says couple.

"Please, Peeta. I know exactly what you mean when you say you have to know I'm still here. The same thing happens when I have a nightmare about you. I really think we can help each other through this. I'm just talking about sleeping."

"I guess. But you have to call your mom and ask if it's okay. I'll go and set up the guest bedroom."

"No!" I shout. "No, Peeta. If I'm staying then I'm staying in your bed." I tighten my grip on his hands and snuggle closer to him.

"Katniss…"

"I'm just talking about sleeping, I promise," I assure him. "We need to help each other through this. We're the only people that know what each other's going through. Well, except Haymitch, but I'm sure as hell not going over there."

We both laugh, lightening the mood.

"Okay," he says after a minute. "I think you're right."

I smile and bring his hand that is in mine up to my mouth and lay a kiss on it. He sighs happily.

"Now go call your mom," he orders lightheartedly.

"Yes, sir," I deadpan.

The moment we let go of each other our eyes meet, and I'm sure we're both thinking and feeling the same thing. We never want to be separate. Now that we've started whatever this turns out to be, we both need each other more than ever. I reluctantly make my way to the main hall and the phone on the wall. It takes me a moment to remember the number to my new house, but I do eventually.

It rings twice before my mom answers.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mom!"

"Katniss! You sound better," she says.

"Mmhmm," I reply happily.

"So everything worked out?" She asks.

"So far," I tell her. "Um, mom, I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Peeta and I both get terrible nightmares and I was wondering if I could stay here with him so we could help each other though it," I quickly blurt out. I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.

"Katniss…."

"Mom, please. We both really need this. We have nightmares about losing each other, and we really think it would help if we could see that we're both alright."

"Wait, you want to stay in his bed?" She asks.

"Um, yeah," I admit. "Mom, we'll just be sleeping. We both made that clear. Besides, we just got together twenty minutes ago. Also, remember we slept in the same sleeping bag during the Games?"

The line is silent for a moment, and I fear she is going to tell me to come home. Even though I would most likely ignore her, I know this is important to Peeta.

"Okay, Katniss. I trust you. If this is what you feel you need."

"Thanks Mom. Really. Thank you. Peeta says thank you too." I wink at him.

"Goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight, Mom."

I hang up the phone and sprint into Peeta's arms, actually giggling. I can't remember the last time I giggled. The things he does to me.

He sets me down and leans down to kiss me. I happily kiss him back. Before it escalates, we break apart, and he takes my hand, leading me up the stairs and to the master bedroom.

"Um, Peeta, can I borrow some pajamas?" I ask nervously. In our haste I realize I'm wearing jeans.

"Sure," he answers. He goes over to his dresser and opens a couple drawers, handing me a pair of grey sweatpants and an old white t-shirt. He grabs some clothes for himself as well.

"I'll go change in the bathroom," he says as he walks to the en-suite bathroom.

After a couple minutes, he calls out from behind the closed door and asks if it's safe to come out. I chuckle and tell him it is.

I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom door, unsure of what the sleeping arrangements are going to be. He comes out wearing a pair of shorts and no shirt. My mind instantly goes to a not so polite place, and I push it aside when I see his prosthetic leg. It saddens me knowing how he got it.

"You make those look better than I ever did," he tells me, pointing to his clothes that I'm wearing. I blush deeply, smiling.

He reaches the bed and leans over to pull back the heavy comforter and the sheets.

"My lady," he motions towards the bed. I scoot over and he lightly tucks me in, both of us grinning like idiots.

He leans over and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips.

"I can't believe I can kiss you whenever I want," he says, disbelief in his tone.

"Believe it," I say and pucker up. He gives me another kiss.

Peeta walks around the bed and pulls back the comforter and sheets on the opposite side before lumbering in. As soon as he's settled I quickly scooch over. He sees me moving and opens his arms as an invitation. I am overjoyed as I settle into his embrace, laying my head on his bare chest.

"Peeta?" I ask.

"Hmm?" he replies sleepily.

"How's your leg?" Admittedly I still feel guilty about his leg having to be replaced. I wish I could've done more.

"It's fine. I'm still getting used to it," he answers.

"Can I – can I see it?" I ask.

He looks down at me and nods. We both sit up and pull back the covers, revealing his legs. He reaches down and unlatches the prosthetic, slowly removing it from the stub that remains of his lower leg.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta," I cry.

"Katniss, it's not your fault. You saved my life. I'd gladly give a leg for another day by your side."

He has such a way with words, I think to myself.

As I stare down at what remains of Peeta's leg, I'm sure that most people would be repulsed by it. But not me. It's just another part of him.

Before I know what I'm doing, I lean over and softly kiss where his leg ends. I can tell from the redness that it's probably sore. I kiss it all over, wanting to relay how I feel to him. That it doesn't bother me.

I make my way back up to Peeta's chest and lay my head down. He had a bewildered look on his face, like he's having trouble believing that that just happened. I smile up at him to let him know I meant every moment of it.

He covers us back up with the comforter and lays his prosthetic on the floor, telling me it's more comfortable to sleep with out it anyways.

I feel him lay a kiss on the crown of my head, and I reply by kissing his chest.

"Goodnight, Peeta," I say.

"Goodnight, Katniss," he says back.

As I turn my head and lay my ear over his heart, the thump-thump-thump of the beats lulling me to sleep, I can only think one thing.

I'm in love.