Okay, in a lot of the review I've gathered about one mutual thing all of you people have in common: you think that Katniss should stop PMSing and be happy for once, because you're tired of confusion and depression. I understand COMPLETELY, and I think I might want to apologize because things like behaviors need to be planned out ahead of time. Trust me, I'm sick and tired of writing about it and I just want them to kiss and make up (LITERALLY), but please. Just sit back and watch things unfold. I'm doing this for a reason, all this has a purpose. I'm sorry it's getting old, and I totally agree with you, but it's worth it. In a few chapters, perhaps the wedding night or something, it's all going to simultaneously come together and you're going to be all "OOOOOHHH I get it". It's worth it, it really is.

Things are getting a tiny bit complicated and require about fifty gazillion times more thought and planning out, so it might be a bit in between updates. That's alright, though, because it's totally worth it, as I've said twice before. ;) No one will be disappointed, I promise. Just thinking about the wedding/the night after the wedding gives me goosebumps. It's going to be spectacular.

I wanted to dedicate this chapter to my friend, Hannah, who helped me SO much with it. I wanted to dedicate it to her, but she hates attention, see. She told me not to dedicate it to her and got kind of defensive about it, too, so instead of dedicating it to her, I'm going to ask all of you not to pay any attention to my AMAZING friend Hannah and her not-dedication.

oOo

I didn't stay on the couch with Peeta for too long. Instead of following him to the kitchen where he finished cleaning up the dishes, I sort of wandered the house. Deep inside me I felt a bored longing for my old life when there was a purpose. Now it seemed to be this old, horrid routine. Wake up, eat breakfast, sit talking with Peeta somewhere until lunch, then after lunch, we take a walk to town or see my family (or something like that), have dinner, and then go to bed. Before I had hunting to do, and cleaning the animals, drying them, fixing food for my family, spending time with my sister I should be spending. Now my life just felt flat.

When I had eventually made my way back into the living room, Peeta had chosen that time to come out of the kitchen. He came over to me and tucked my hand in his. "Are you feeling better?" His eyes blinked curiously, though the worried gleam still hadn't left. If I kept worrying him like this every day, he's eventually going to become permanently like that.

"I think so." I cocked my head slightly with a mutual face on, and scratched my side. "I think… I think I want to go over and see Mother and Prim."

"Oh." He blinked, and then smiled. "Okay." Peeta took his hand back reluctantly and stood there for a few seconds hesitantly. "Have fun."

Maybe I was a little surprise he had such little to say for once, but I just shrugged. "Thanks." And, as a second thought, I reached up on my tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Peeta."

Peeta shined for a moment at the words, and then grinned at me. "I love you, too." He reached up to touch the top of my cheekbone briefly then drew away.

More words weren't necessary for a goodbye, and with one last smile, I turned around and left him standing there, hands in pockets, gazing at my back as I walked out.

The sun was setting, and cast a hazy purple/grey color on the layer of clouds that had decided to settle over District 12. It must have been about seven o'clock, and the dusk shadows cast by the trees were dull and halfhearted. I took a moment to stare into the forest sadly. The breeze carried in the scent of nature and freedom, making me think only more of my best friend. Shaking my head vigorously, I waved that aside. No use thinking of him right now.

I walked up the few steps up to the front door of my mother's and Prim's house, and knocked a quietly a few times, just in case they were asleep. They weren't. Two seconds later Mother came to the door, and when she saw who it was, smiled happily at me.

"Katniss!" She said, blue eyes wrinkling kindly. "You know you don't have to knock."

Mother stepped aside and ushered me in. The door was closed behind me, and the second her hand came off the doorknob, she put her arms around me and squeezed me tightly.

"How are you, hon?" She said, putting her hands on my cheeks. Mother was about an inch shorter than me, wrinkled with stress and age but nevertheless my mother, and beautiful.

"I'm doing…" I hesitated slightly, and then caught my tongue in between my teeth briefly. "I'm doing okay. It's definitely different living away from you guys, and I've felt guilty for not visiting you as often as I should. But I'm here now. I hope it isn't too late."

"No, no, it's fine!" Mother reassured me with another pat on my cheek. "Primrose is up in her room, doing lord-knows-what. Go on up." She waved me on with a motherly impatience, but didn't forget a smile and a joking wink.

I smiled back and went upstairs.

Prim was there as promised. She was lying on her stomach on her bed, scratching away with a pencil on some paper. Her blond eyebrows were furrowed slightly in concentration, but all was broke when she heard me enter. Her head turned up and she grinned her usual dimpled-smile. "Katniss!"

She struggled around and sat up on her bed, hiding the paper behind her.

"What was that?" I asked, sitting down next to my little sister on her bed. "Were you drawing?" The only interest peeked was only from Peeta's drawing habits. It would be nice to know Primrose started drawing too. I have such a talented family.

"Yeah…" Prim frowned slightly, and shrugged, still not bringing the paper back out in front to show me. "I'm not too good at it. Is Peeta coming?" She changed the subject abruptly, and I knew I wasn't going to see what she drew.

"No." I shook my head. "Just me. Things are kind of…tense right now."

My sister frowned sympathetically. She knew Peeta and I never fought. "What happened?"

I shrugged my shoulders slightly, not really wanting to go there. "Some topics were touched that shouldn't have been. Peeta didn't see that I didn't want to talk about it. He was being insensitive."

Though wary of the suggestion, Prim asked, "Could you have been…overeating a bit possibly?"

Feeling defensive, I scowled at my hands. "No. Peeta knew that I didn't want to talk about him, but he ins—" My eyebrows twitched up and I knew that by saying that, Prim immediately knew what I was talking about. I cleared my throat. "He wouldn't drop the subject."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Are you sure he wasn't just being insecure or jealous?"

"I don't know, Prim, and Im don't care to talk about it ever again." But the second the words escaped my mouth, I regretted snapping at my little sister. "I-I'm sorry, Primrose, I didn't mean to snap."

Thankfully, she understood and patted my hand—a habit she got from our mother. "It's alright, Katniss." She changed the subject once again. "Are you staying the night?"

I thought about it for a second. Peeta's face came to mind, sympathetic and concerned about me, even when I was awful to him. Never wavering and never failing to forgive me. Guilt blossomed like a flower in my chest, making me grimace. I nodded. "Yeah. I think I should."

Prim smiled at me. "Then in that case, I'm going to take a quick shower." She leaned over and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. "Make yourself at home."

I was quiet for a bit, and only after the bathroom door had swung closed behind my sister, I whispered, "This is my home."

PEETA'S POV

Katniss had been gone for a few hours. It was probably ten at night and I still hadn't heard from her at all. Looking out the window over the kitchen sink, I could see a glow of light through the closed curtains on the second floor of Primrose's and Katniss' mother's house. It was completely black out now, and the layer of clouds prevented the stars from being visible. It was a blank and motionless, quiet except for the occasional call of a cricket or a bird staying up late.

At eleven I decided to go over there. With one last glance at the loaf of bread in the oven (to make sure it wasn't in risk of burning), I hung up my old apron and headed out. I felt unsure and remorseful about yelling at her. It was so hard not to just explode at her, but I was doing my best. The thing that made me the most upset was how she didn't seem to care. She didn't care that she was doing all that to herself, that she was becoming more and more out of my reach. Well, maybe she cared, but she didn't do anything about it. If she realizes that she's slipping away from me, she's not doing anything about it. This made me angrier than anything. Perhaps my intentions were strictly selfish, but we have to meet halfway. I can't save her from a future of…darkness when she isn't even trying to save herself.

Shaking those feelings away, I walked up the porch steps to the large house. Though they told me before I didn't need to knock, I knocked anyways. It was late.

A few minutes later, Ms. Everdeen answered. She looked like she hadn't just gotten out of bed, which relieved me.

"Peeta! Come in, come in." She opened the door wider and closed it after me.

"I hope I didn't…wake you up or anything." I said almost absentmindedly, looking around for Katniss. She wasn't in here.

It was a little dark in there, only lights on in the kitchen, hallway, and one on upstairs lit the house.

"No." Ms. Everdeen smiled reassuringly at me. "I was awake working on some stuff. Primrose and Katniss are upstairs, doing what, I'm not sure. Would you like some tea?"

"Um…" I craned my neck to peek up the stairs. Everything was quite. "Yes, please. I'm going to go see them, is that alright?" A muscle in my neck started to twitch.

"Of course, of course." She looked curious as to why I was acting so formal, but I wasn't going to tell her that Katniss and I had a fight and I had no idea what I was doing here. "Go on up." Ms. Everdeen smiled at me again and went into the kitchen for some tea.

I glanced at the partially-open kitchen door, and then began walking up the stairs. Well, trudge was more like it. I was nervous (I had no idea why). Perhaps she was so angry she came here to get away from me. Maybe I shouldn't be here. I stopped on the steps, faltering my decision of seeing her. I should probably turn around and go back home, avoiding anything else bad.

Releasing an annoyed breath, I shook my head. Nah, I'm going. My feet took the last four necessary steps to the second floor and I faltered in front of Katniss' old bedroom door. It was cracked open, but no light shone from it. As quietly as possible, I opened it a few inches more and poked my head in. The floor was freshly swept, the bathroom door open all the way, the wardrobe closed and dusted, and the bed was made—but obviously empty. It looked as if no one had stayed in this room for quite some time. Knowing this was true, I backed back out and thought. She was in Prim's room, of course. I remember.

When I neared Primrose's room, I paused and listened. No sounds came from it, but a golden sliver of light was visible, cast upon the thick fawn carpet in the hallway. I inhaled and knocked once on the door, quietly. Still silence from inside. It was frighteningly desolate in this house tonight. Shaking my head, I reached over, pushed the door open, and snuck in to see.

The sight made me release the breath I'd been holding onto. Katniss and Primrose were curled up on her bed, both wearing light pink nightdresses (It had been a while since I'd seen Katniss wear pink) and had their wet hair pulled back in two braids on either sides of their heads. Before, I had thought they looked nothing alike. Katniss was black-haired with olive skin and grey eyes, keeping to herself and rarely smiling. She slouched quite a bit. Primrose, on the other hand, was all golden and blue. She smiled and laughed a lot, sympathetic and sweet. She stood up straight and attracted all sorts of attention with her charm and loveliness. But right then was probably the first time I could see how much alike they truly were. Their head shapes were identical, bunny noses and exactly the same delicate bone structure.

Primrose was curled in her older sister's arms, head tucked under Katniss' chin. Katniss had her body turned slightly to the other girl and had her arms a protective cage around Prim. Their chests rose and fell to the same beat, eyelids fluttering from the dreams behind them.

I knew I should probably leave, but I didn't want to. Instead, I tucked my hands in my pockets and leaned against the wall, listening to the sounds of my family sleeping. Yes, I considered Prim my family. She was as close as a sister to me she could get, aside from after the wedding, when she really will be.

There was a hushed knock on the door and Ms. Everdeen walked in, carrying two cups of steaming tea. She glanced at me, then at her daughters. A smile crept on her worn face and she handed me a cup. "They're beautiful."

I nodded slowly. It was hard to take my eyes off of the two sisters, so still and silent. "They are." I took a sip of my tea, not really tasting it. The liquid nearly burned my throat on the way down, but soothed me. "I wish I understood her…" I whispered, mostly to myself. Glancing sideways at Ms. Everdeen, I saw she was confused. I clarified. "Katniss. It's so hard understanding what she means, and half the time I'm just confused because I have no idea what she wants from me… She gets angry. "

Katniss' mother laughed, and I could barely hear it. "Try being her mother. After…after her father died and once I had snapped out of my depression, we'd fight so often. She would get angry at me for simple little things, and I'd get defensive. We'd fight, and Primrose would cry sometimes. It was difficult." There was a pause, and we drank our tea silently for a few minutes. "It's worth it, once she's accepted she's not being abandoned again."

Hearing the truth like that kind of made me twitch, and for a few seconds I was on the brink of a sympathetic moan. Hearing it from her and being with her for nearly two years has taught me a lot, but her mother knew more about her than I might ever know.

There was a moment of silence, and then Ms. Everdeen sighed. "They need their rest. Let's leave them be." She cast a loving glance at her two daughters, then at me briefly. Noting my hesitant look, she smiled a small, wrinkled smile. "Well, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you tomorrow, Peeta."

I ignored the fact that I was indeed a baker and had bread a lot, and instead nodded. "Goodnight, Ms. Everdeen. Thank you." And I watched her duck back out the door.

It must have been about then I realized how odd it was watching people sleep. Though I could have done it for the rest of the night, I imagined the awkwardness of if they woke up when I was standing over them watching them. Shaking my head slightly, I brought the cup of tea back down from my lips and crossed my arms in thought. Or lack thereof. They did need their sleep. I should leave them to it.

Treading lightly on the carpet, I crossed the room until I was at the side of the bed next to Katniss. She was sleeping soundly, each rhythmic breath stirring stray blond hairs on her sister's head. As gently as I possibly could, I knelt down and pressed my lips to her forehead. This time she wasn't awake to scowl at me or flinch away. When will she realize there was nothing she could do to scare me away?

I let out an inaudible sigh and stood back up, gazing at the two of them with a certain vulnerability I wouldn't want anyone else to witness. But ah, what do I care. They're my family, like I said before. Without even hesitating, I bent down and kissed Primrose on the head as well. A sweet scent of flowers wafted up my nose and I recognized it similar to Katniss'.

Tasting the unfamiliar breath of family on my lips, I turned around and left before I could see the smiles stretch across Katniss' and Prim's faces in their sleep.

KATNISS' POV

I woke up with a crick in my neck and my mouth sticky with morning breath. I didn't even have to open my eyes to know where I was. Prim's sweet-smelling hair was stuck to my cheek and her body was warm and small in my arms. Lightly so I barely noticed, her chest rose and fell with every breath. She was a deep sleeper when there were no nightmares. I felt a rush of affection for my little sister, one I felt so often. I'd missed sleeping next to her more than I'd realized. Even when the guilt of last night hit me, it was softer than I'd originally thought it would be.

As carefully as I could, I took my arms back from Prim and carefully set her back on the pillows. She exhaled heavily once, smacked her lips, and resumed sleeping soundly. I smiled. Once I was sure she was going to stay asleep when I stood up, I did exactly that. The crick in my neck fixed itself as I walked into the bathroom. The effects of sleep leached away the second I looked into the mirror.

Not only did I look about three or four years younger, I looked more like a girl than I ever had (minus the mutating from the Capitol). Not that looking like a girl was a bad thing, or anything. My pink nightdress that I hadn't worn (ever) before now was crumpled at my knees where a miniscule amount of lace touched it. My lean shoulders—wiry from archery—were bare from the tiny straps of the gown, and hip-length black braids laid disheveled on either side of my head. I had a figure, oddly enough; something I'd never really cared to notice.

Making a scoffing noise with my tongue, I stripped off the girly gown and unbraided my messy plaits. Thankfully, when I stopped living in this house a bit ago, I still had the mind to leave some of my clothes, so there were some fresh garments to dress in when I stepped back out of the shower. A set of blue jeans and a white blouse. It felt way too girly for me, but at least the blouse was comfortable. I braided my hair back into one braid and was relieved. At least there was a small bit of me left.

Yawning slightly, I went back into the bedroom. Primrose had flopped onto her stomach and currently had a cat seated on her back, kneading it gently with his ugly orange paws. He glanced my direction and made a guttural noise in his throat, turned around once, and stretched out on his owner's back. Prim didn't budge. I smiled at them both, made Buttercup promise to take care of her, and tiptoed out of the room.

Mother was downstairs, hands curled around a cup of bitter-smelling coffee, bent over a stack of papers. When I came in, she glanced up. I saw that there were blue bags under her eyes. She looked tired.

"Good morning, dear." She said, not getting out of her chair. "Did you sleep well?"

I plucked a shiny piece of fruit out of the bowl on the counter and sat down in front of her. "Yeah. It was…quite restful." Not to mention plagued with guilt and dreams about Peeta being angry at me. "You look exhausted, Mother. Have you been up all night doing…whatever it is that you're doing?"

She smiled weakly at me. "I have very important work to do. There's no time to sleep when all of this has to be read." Her aged blue eyes drifted back down to the papers. "It must be finished by Wednesday…"

"Mother," I reached over and took her cup of coffee, which was very empty. I wondered exactly when she had ran out while putting it in the sink. After I had done that, I took the papers as well. "Get some rest. Just a few hours of sleep. You won't be of any use to the hospital when you're a zombie." I put the papers on the kitchen counter.

Mother, who had stopped looking indignant that I'd taken her coffee and paperwork, smiled weakly a second time. She stood up and let out a fatigued yawn. "You always take care of me, Katniss." My mother patted me fondly on the cheek. "Thank you. I will get some rest." On her way out the kitchen, she paused and looked back at me with a quizzical face on. "Where might you be heading?"

I hesitated, then glanced down at my apple, which was half-eaten. "…Peeta's." I sighed and stood up as well. "I owe him an apology."

"Good girl." Mother laughed quietly, and left with a tired arch to her back. I sighed.

Though I had no appetite, there was no use wasting the rest of my breakfast, so I stayed an extra five minutes to finish it off. But when I was done and had left the kitchen, I hesitated at the front door. It was nice and safe here in my mother's house. I could curl up on the couch with yet another cup of tea, a piece of her homemade bread, and pet Buttercup for the rest of the day, completely denying Peeta existed. Thinking of it like that made me feel incredibly guilty, even more so. Groaning with self-loathing, I slammed my head on the door, opened it, and trudged down the porch steps.

The doorknob of the neighboring house (aka where Peeta and I lived) was cold under my hand as I turned it and stepped in.

It was dark and quiet in the house; all the lights were off and no sounds were emanating from any of the rooms. The only light provided was of the early morning sun peeking through the curtains, dripping a mess of golden color onto the floor and furniture. I knew immediately Peeta was still asleep, not just by the simple facts registered by my senses, but the stillness everywhere.

Hesitant of even letting out my breath—therefore disturbing the peace—I took off my shoes at the door and walked up the stairs in clean white socks. I walked up the last step, down the short second-store hallway, and up to our bedroom door. It was closed. I frowned. It was rarely closed when we slept, except of course when… My eye twitched and I shook that away, feeling my face redden. Without any further hesitancy, I opened the door and stepped quietly in.

Peeta was asleep. He was on his stomach and mostly covered with the blankets, but what little I did see of him was bare. He slept without his shirt, of course. Let's hope he was wearing something on the other half. Shaking my head, I bent down to my knees next to the bed, crossing my arms on the mattress in front of me. Peeta's arms were crossed under his head as well, but he was turned towards me. I could see the softness of his features, not-quite-full lips, incredibly long blond lashes, nose that turned up a fraction at the end, caramel-colored freckled scattering his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. His mouth was open a fraction to breath, exposing strangely white teeth.

I could almost taste his mouth on mine, but just rested my chin on my arms and stared at Peeta. He was…gorgeous, if any other words didn't cover it. Carefully and uncertainly I reached out and brushed my fingers on the edge of his jawbone, feeling the warm skin beneath my fingertips. Almost instantly, Peeta's brows furrowed in his sleep and he sucked in a breath. I withdrew quickly, shrinking away slightly as he appeared almost in pain.

He was just having a dream I reassured myself, and bit my lip as his breathing grew even again and he was soon snoring quietly again. I smiled slightly and sank all the way to the floor into a sitting position. My head probably wasn't visible above the edge of the mattress (it was a tall mattress).

It was a while I sat there, breathing as quietly as I could and listening to my Peeta do the same. I listened to the little snort that came out at every inhale, to the occasional mumble, to the silent shift of the blankets every time his chest rose and fell. This went on for about half an hour, in which the time I was drifting off myself. His loud, tired groan jolted me before the groan of the bed did as he sat up. I let my eyes follow him as he swung his legs over the other side of the bed and stood up. He was wearing pants after all.

As Peeta stretched, wiry muscles popped out on his abdomen and arms. His shiny white-blond hair crackled with static electricity as he swerved his head slowly around, taking in the dull scene before him with tired eyes. What was really hilarious was the double take he did when his eyes grazed over me. He frowned, blinked a few times, and then sighed.

"Katniss," His voice was quiet, hesitant, and apologetic. Peeta sat on the bed near me.

You were watching me sleep, Katniss, is what I expected him to say, but I beat him to it. "I'm sorry I was watching you sleep."

To my surprise, a small smile appeared on his lips and he shook his head. Almost as if saying, haha you don't get it. "Don't apologize. For anything, Katniss. Got it?" Azure eyes flicked to mine and held their stare.

I was frowning (and inwardly grimacing) when I arched my back to slide onto the bed next to Peeta. "No, I don't 'got it'. I'm still sorry for stuff. Like for staying at Mother's house without telling you. And for screa—"

"Shut up, Katniss." Peeta interrupted me, his voice staying excruciatingly mild. "Please, let me talk."

I zipped my mouth but kept my gaze averted to the floor. Through my peripheral vision I could see him do the same, slouching, with hands on the bed either side next to him. And, using the same peripheral vision, I saw him throw his hands up after five minutes of silence.

"I—" He faltered (something I've rarely ever seen him do), biting his lower lip. Peeta looked frustrated. He sighed. "I don't know, Katniss. I want to repeat everything I said yesterday, but I don't see the point. I don't see the point in hurting you, I don't see the point in repeating things that you already know. I'm tired of watching my attempts sputter and die with every day pass."

"What?" I was actually confused, but I had my eyes back on him.

He paused for a few seconds, then looked sideways at me. "Meet me halfway, Katniss. Please. I'll do anything, I'll be anything you want me to be or do. Anything and everythi—"

It was my turn to interrupt, and I shook my head tiredly. "Please, no lectures today. I don't have the energy to try and work things out right now."

Peeta sighed and threw up his arms a second time. "This is what I'm talking about! You put things off, you—" His words were abruptly cut off, and he smacked himself in the forehead with a hand, where it stayed. "God, I find myself yelling at you every other day. I hate it. I hate it." He took several seconds for deep breaths, then took his hand away from his face. "Just come here, Katniss. I missed you last night."

I resisted the urge to slump my shoulders and give him a look of utter disbelief. I didn't get him at all. Boys.

"Please, Katniss." Peeta's expression and tone was docile, and he opened his arms. When I let him—very carefully, might I add—hug me, he rested his forehead on the top of my own. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm so sorry. I try my best, I try…"

"Shut up, Peeta." Again, it was my turn to scoff at him, and I closed my eyes against him. "No more talking. It's hurting my head."

I felt him nod, but I also felt his hand creep up to the back of my neck. He brushed my braid away from my shoulder gently. And again he brushed it away, but I felt the tips of his fingers get caught at the end, and with a slight tug, it was unraveled.

I felt my throat muscles work to swallow, and I tried to rev up my mind, which was sputtering to a stop. His skin seemed to grow warmer. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he's pitching a fever. Thank goodness I didn't care.

Peeta bent down to kiss me on the forehead, but no sooner after he drew back, he leaned anticlimactically away. "This is hurting my neck, sitting like this."

"Then how should we sit?" It was supposed to be an honest curious question, but it came out more along the lines of…seductive. A highly unattractive snort came bubbling from my nose. That right there pretty much canceled out and seductiveness.

There was a split-second of silence, and then Peeta let out a laugh. "Katniss, you're just…you're just…"

"Yes?" I couldn't help but smile either, though my cheeks were glowing.

Peeta, still grinning, shook his head and drew his legs up onto the bed and turned to face me. "You're just…perfect."

My face fell a bit and I dropped my eyes onto my lap. I had brought my legs up like Peeta's and we were now facing each other. But I wasn't looking at him. "I wish you'd stop saying that. I'm not perfect. Last night can be an example. I scream at you and leave a lot and…have more major mental breakdowns than I'd previously thought possible. I am not perfect."

Peeta made a low, sympathetic noise from the back of his throat and cupped my face in his hands. He wanted me to look at him, but the closest we were getting was leaning in so our foreheads touched. "You are to me."

I closed my eyes. This boy was not normal. My eyes opened again and I peeked up to meet his briefly. "Are you just saying that to get lucky?" My voice was an unintentional whisper.

Silence.

Peeta, who I seemed to have shocked beyond belief, recovered quickly. He cleared his throat. "No, Katniss, never. What put that idea in your head?"

I drew back, unable to make contact with him anymore. My face was a scrunched puddle of worry, notions floating around in my head doing their best to convince me they're real. "I…I don't know." I drew my knees up to my chest and put my chin on them. "I'm trying so hard to find something…flawed about you. Every other boy I know—knew—was completely different, and was completely not perfect. I wish you could be less unreal, yell at me some more, be an arrogant pervert, say the wrong thing, convince me I'm not just in some crazy dream and I'm going to wake up one day finding myself standing on the edge of a cliff again."

Misunderstanding. Enlightenment. Surprise. Hilarity. I watched Peeta's facial expressions morph back and forth, finally setting on normal again. He paused for a long while before he licked his lips and eyed me for clarity. "You want me to be an arrogant pervert. And to yell at you. And be a complete jerk sometimes. To prove to you that I am a perfectly normal teenage boy and you are a perfectly normal teenage girl and we are a perfectly normal couple with perfectly normal problems because you don't think any of this could possibly occur to someone like you."

I nodded. He hit it right on the nail head.

There was a long pause.

Taking a breath, he drew his hands back and rubbed them together. "I think I can do that."

I raised my eyebrows at him in cynical expectance. Well?

Silence for another ten minutes. Peeta seemed to be thinking really hard and fighting with himself. Finally he leaned forwards with a slight twinkle in his eyes. "If it makes you feel better, I think about our sex life all the time."

An unexpected (and rather loud) nose of exasperation sputtered from my mouth and I threw my hands into the air. "What the heck, Peeta!" I got off the bed—hands still in the air—and attempted to walk out the door. But as quick as lightning, Peeta was there behind me. He gripped my upper arms with both his hands, spun me around, and pressed me against the wall next to the door.

"I'm a total idiot, Katniss." He looked as if stating a fact, a very urgent fact, but looked as though it was new to him as well, almost as if he's just now realizing it. "I'm not perfect because I don't think before I speak. I'm a total idiot and I make mistakes and I'm funny in the head and I'm…" Peeta paused, looking like he was about to explode, then let out his breath and looked me straight in the eyes with a sparkle that could put the stars to shame. "I'm…completely in love with you."

My lungs shrank inward, letting out a pathetic squeak. There he goes again, saying the right thing. Being perfect and beautiful and I wouldn't have him any other way. A small laugh burst from my throat and a thousand things came to my mind to say. One decided to surface. "You are an idiot." And he kissed me.

Warm hands curled behind my neck and I could taste the salt on Peeta's tongue, more alive and real than anything. His eyelashes fluttered close, tickling mine in the process. Legs turned to jelly and hearts turned to racehorses as I threatened to give away completely against his touch. I gripped Peeta's shoulders for balance (and to pull him closer), but eventually I had to warn him.

"P-Peeta," I managed to get through between kisses. "I'm about to collapse."

There was a moment when both of us were laughing, mouths an inch away.

"Sorry," he grinned and—expertly, as though he had done it a hundred times—exchanged places with me and slid down the wall. We well perfectly, interlocked like puzzle pieces. I was still laughing. It was light and semi-quiet, but Peeta couldn't kiss me without me giggling into his mouth.

"I'm sorry." I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. It was hard. "I guess I find the whole thing funny. You're just…really an idiot."

Peeta raised his eyebrows at me, highly amused. "I wasn't joking, Katniss. About any of those things."

My laughing had quieted down to a seemingly-permanent smile, and I dropped my gaze down to my hands in thought.

I was straddling Peeta, my legs on either side of his. My fingers were curled lightly around his upper arms, and his were resting on my hips. Totally intimate position, but both of us were motionless, lost in though.

After a minute or so, I glanced up. "You're really bad at pretending to be an arrogant pervert."

A crooked grin spread across Peeta's face. "That wasn't pretending." His face had gotten a bit pink, but the boyish grin didn't falter. "That was the truth. I do think about it a lot."

I lifted my chin, almost defensively. "Or lack thereof."

"Exactly." Peeta shifted me on his lap, both hands resting nonchalantly on my thighs. He looked thoughtful. "And I was thinking h—"

I put my hand over his mouth and shook my head. "I don't need to know what you were thinking, Peeta. If it has anything to do with the previous topic, I really don't need to know."

He winked. Boys.

Sighing slightly (while smiling, of course), I braced myself on the floor and began to stand up. Peeta's hands on my shoulders made me sit back down. He sighed and shook his head.

"Where are you going? I don't understand you… You tell me to be a jerk, but you get angry when I am. You tell me to be a pervert, but only let us make out for like five seconds." He looked half amused, half exasperated, and put his hands on either side of my face. "What do you want from me?"

I was silent for a few seconds, considering the number of possible answers I could say. I didn't know which one to use, so I faltered a lot. "I want you to-to close your mouth and…and…."

Peeta apparently felt the need to fill in that little blank. He kissed me.

I felt Peeta's hands slid down behind my knees, pulling me closer to him. I could feel him on me, around me; I could taste his breath in my own throat, his heartbeat raging madly in my own chest, his hands sliding on the material of my blouse. I knew this wasn't going further than this. Not only would I not let him go further, but it was just…obvious. Though the heat of our fire was all around, his touch was gentle and I could feel the unspoken words with my fingers on his face. Though, there was no doubt he would reassure me that he indeed has longings. I wonder how on earth he controls them.

Peeta's fingers tightened into fists on my waist, clenching and unclenching. His breath was rough as he slipped in a gasp every now and then, but even I had to pause when I felt his slim fingers trail from my waist up the small buttons of my blouse. With a shudder running up my body, I pulled away right when I felt the first button undo. He had one hand knotted in my hair, the other tugging at my shirt. When he felt me pull away slightly, his eyes opened and bottle-blue stared at me with a slightly drunken look.

"Is this okay?" He whispered, and I knew what he meant.

My breathing was ragged and all I could think about for a minute was the taste of him still on my lips. I was able to nod, but not able to much else. Peeta's careful artist fingers looped around another button and undid it. Another one. I was dizzy and my stomach felt a little sick, but the good kind of sick. The kind that makes you want to groan, but tugged at you temptingly. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or not I remembered to put something on under the blouse. When all the buttons were undone and the white shirt hung loose, I could feel Peeta's warm fingers slip under its material at my shoulders. Wanting only to melt away into a peaceful oblivion, I brought my arms backwards and let the blouse fall. Suddenly, something in me tugged uncomfortably and I paused for a miniscule amount of time, then let him press me against him again.

Without really wanting to, I paused again. "You said—" I panted, momentarily breaking free of the alluring pull of Peeta's kisses. "You asked me what I wanted,"

"Anything," Peeta murmured. He touched the side of my face with his hand, eyes just opening. "Anything you want. I promise."

"I want…" I swallowed. I wasn't sure if I should say this, but my mind had already 80% recovered from the high he caused. "I want…you to understand." Breaking away from Peeta's arms, I stood up and backed away slightly.

He seemed to be in shock. His mouth was open partway, eyebrows raised in surprise. He didn't seem like he was fully conscious yet. "U-Understand what, exactly?"

"Understand that I…finally figured it out, and… I want you to understand that I'm not going to…stay." The decision was split-second and I wasn't sure whether or not I regretted it right away. My words were stammering and hard to make out, and I took a deep breath. "I'm…not going to-to live here…anymore…"

Peeta's eyes widened a fraction and he stood up, completely aware now. "What-What happened? Was it something I did to you just then or, or was it something else? Something you just now realized? Did I hurt you?"

I leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the fact that I could still taste him everywhere around me. "It's not you, Peeta. You didn't hurt me or do anything bad to me, it's—" I let Peeta put his hands on my arms. "It's the exact opposite."

He was looking confused and concerned, nervously licking his lips. "I still don't understand."

"I figured it out." I continued, still hesitant of looking Peeta in the eyes. "Why I'm like this. I don't even know how, or even if I'm right, but within two seconds we paused and I looked into your eyes, I learned."

Peeta looked like he was dying, and his eyes were begging me to tell him.

"You're too much of a reminder to me." I wanted it to come out as gentle as possible, and I gripped his hands in mine. "I love you more than…more than I would have ever guessed in my entire life, but every time I'm having…one of 'those' days, I look at you and everything seems to rewind and crumble back down. You're amazing and sweet and do everything right, helping me and doing your best to be absolutely perfect, but if this is going to work out, we need to do it right. From the start."

He looked half confused, have dubious. "Like…like what we were talking about before?"

"That, too, but…more." I took a deep breath and bit my swollen lip. "To start completely over. I need to…" My eyes opened slowly, and I understood. What I was saying, what I needed, everything. It all suddenly slid into place, sending my breath sucking back into me.

Peeta looked frightened.

"I need to fall in love with you again. The right way." Quickly so I couldn't have time to regret it, I pulled away from him and backed quickly towards the door. "This will work, Peeta, I promise. But I can't…be with you like this anymore." I paused. "But…there's something I need you to do for me."

He took a step closer to me and wiped away the worried, slightly hurt look. He closed his eyes and for a split-second, I could see it take over. But it was gone as fast as it came. Peeta opened his eyes again and looked at me. Nothing was said by him.

"I'm going to want you to be there. Not…no, that's not the right way to phrase it…" My roll was faltering, and I pressed two fingers to my temples, eyebrows scrunched. "I want you not to give up. On me."

"I would never do that." Peeta said to me gently, and seemed to think better of reaching out to take my hands again. "I'll be there, I promise. When you're ready. Before that. I'll always be there." He smiled, even through the sadness of his expression. "If that's what you want."

I swallowed and nodded, smiling as well. "I'm not sure. I don't know if this is the right thing or not… I have no idea. But…thanks, Peeta."

He bent over and picked up my blouse, which was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Still saying nothing, I let him help me into it and button it back up.

"Well…" He put his hands in his pockets and looked at me with an expression that made him seem five years older. A man. "I guess you're serious this time."

I nodded again, but instead of saying anything, I reached up and put my arms around his neck. Peeta squeezed me tightly, but unlike the last time I decided to start fresh, this didn't feel like the end. Of us, of our life, of…everything. It didn't feel like the end. It felt more like…the beginning. Of what, I had no idea. Of something. I buried my face into Peeta's sweet-smelling blond hair and sighed. It's the beginning that takes the longest to finish. And understand.

What the heck was I doing?

oOo

PHEW. That took forEVER. But before I go any further, I need to say HANG IN HERE. I went back and read the ending part and I must say that…if it wasn't why it was, I would say it sucked. It sounds just like a stupid filler, and just like last time when it didn't work out at all. But I promise you, this time it is real and I beg of you not to think it's awful and give up on me. It's for a reason, as is everything else. It was not only "necessary" but a major part of the story. If I liked giving secrets away, I'd tell you guys exactly why I did it and what I have planned. But sadly, I don't like giving secrets away, so you'll just have to bear with me. And please don't kill me, Hannah! This is for the good of mankind. Mmm visions of Peeta-plums are dancing in my head. It must be Christmas. :D