"Fuck, Katniss," I exhale, unable to hold my tongue. The sight of Katniss's mouth enveloping my dick for the second time today has me reeling. I grip my sheets in my fists when her tongue comes out and swirls around the head.

Every time she does this it feels even more amazing than the last. Over the last two weeks, it seems like we've spent more time making each other come than we have spent talking. Every time I resolve to sit her down and talk - truly talk - about what we're doing, something distracts me.

Sometimes it's the intoxicating scent of her hair - light, like grapefruit, often with a hint of vanilla. Other times it's the feeling of her smooth, warm lips against the skin of my neck, or the gentle nipping of her teeth on my earlobe. The thing that gets me the most, however, are the soft noises she makes when she's near me. They're so light and so soft that I'm not even sure that she realizes she's doing it.

It's those noises that I can now feel vibrating against my dick. Her hand grips the base of me as she takes more of my length into her mouth. I can barely tell where her mouth stops and her hand begins anymore.

"Shit, that feels good," I growl.

Katniss moans louder against me, as though she's challenging me to use my voice and make more noise. I match her volume, letting an uninhibited moan pass my lips that only seems to grow louder when Katniss uses her free hand to begin massaging my balls. The effect is almost devastating.

I drop my hand and bury it in Katniss's hair that is now free from the braid she arrived in. The corner of my mouth quirks up into a lopsided grin over the way her hair is still mussed as a result of writhing across my bed so forcefully when I made her come earlier. I can still hear the way she sounded when my name fell from her lips, unbridled and heavy. I can still feel how hard she fisted my hair as she rode out her orgasm.

Katniss's hand begins to move from the base of my dick up to the tip. She leans forward and kisses the head before taking it back into her mouth only briefly, dragging her tongue along the slit and pulling away.

"Does this feel good?" She asks, squeezing me tightly while she pulls her hand up and down the length.

"Feels great," I breathe. "Keep going."

"What about this?"

She adds her tongue again, slowly licking a line up the underside of my dick from the bottom to tip, closing her mouth over me and moving down, taking me in as deep as she can.

"Oh my God," I mutter, my voice strained.

Before I can stop myself, I lift my hips from the bed and thrust gently into Katniss's mouth. I open my eyes quickly, ready to apologize, but instead of pulling back, she is staying in place. She lets out a muffled moan that vibrates straight down to my toes - she liked it.

I try again and the same thing happens, so I continue, finding a rhythm that works, being careful not to thrust too hard. Our moans mix together, filling the room and echoing through my mind, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I'm not sure we've ever been so loud. I'm not sure I ever want to be quiet again.

"I'm there, Katniss," I croak. She braces herself and waits for me to thrust once more before I feel myself spilling into her mouth. I watch as she sucks hard, draining me of every last drop of come that she can before she pulls away and licks her lips again, smiling proudly.

As I work to steady my breathing, I watch Katniss quietly get up from the floor and gather her clothing, quickly slipping into them. When she is dressed, she climbs into my bed, waiting for me to join her.

Finally, I slip my boxers on and lie back against my pillows. Katniss curls up against my chest, snaking her hand out across my body, absentmindedly rubbing soft circles across my stomach. My fingers find her hair and comb through the tangled strands delicately as I close my eyes.

I could lie here like this with her all day if she'd let me. The pressure to speak isn't there during these moments. It's just the two of us enjoying the presence of one another, reveling in the silent, blissful minutes that follow. Minutes that are sure to be etched in my memory for a long time.

Before I fall asleep, I reach across my bed and grab my phone to set an alarm. Katniss and I have gotten used to taking naps together lately, relying on the alarm to wake us up before either of my parents come home.

"Actually, Peeta, I have to go now," Katniss mumbles, pulling out of the grasp my arm had on her shoulder.

"What?" I ask, confused. "Why?" She didn't tell me she had to leave early today.

Katniss sits up and sighs as she begins to re-braid her hair. She looks down at me sadly. It's clear that she doesn't want to go.

"I promised Prim that I'd take her to the park this afternoon.." She trails off, securing the fresh braid with a hair tie. "Since I haven't in awhile."

The guilt I feel is strong and immediate, and I can tell Katniss feels it too. Even though she didn't say it, we both know that Katniss hasn't taken Prim to the park, her favorite place, because she has been spending all of her free time with me instead.

Katniss leans forward, resting her hand on my chest again before pressing her lips to mine tenderly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" She murmurs, brushing the hair off my forehead. I nod and watch her move off of my bed and slip her shoes on as she makes her way to the door, stopping abruptly after she's pulled it open. I furrow my eyebrows at the back of her head, observing the way she taps on her thigh nervously with her hand. She spins around quickly, a sheepish look painted on her face. "You wouldn't want to come with us, would you?" She asks.

I am off my bed, throwing my clothes on, and following Katniss out of my bedroom and to her car without a second thought.

XXX

At the sound of Katniss's horn, Prim runs out the front door and hops off the porch, blonde braids bobbing up and down with her steps. Prim is small for her age, just like Katniss, but that is where their physical similarities end. Prim favors their mother, fair skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Katniss's olive skin, dark hair, and gray eyes come from their father.

I don't know much about Katniss and Prim's father, Katniss doesn't like talking about it. She was eleven when he died, and Prim was seven, and beyond that, the only thing Katniss has ever told me about her father is that he was in a car accident as he came home from working the graveyard shift at the hospital where he was a security guard. The same hospital Katniss's mother works at to this day.

Prim stops abruptly when she notices me sitting in the front seat of Katniss's car. I make to open the door and let Prim sit in the front, but Katniss's hand on my arm stops me.

"Oh. Hey, Peeta," Prim says through the open window, giving a slight wave. "I didn't know you were coming with us today."

"Hey," I smile. "I could move to the back if you want." Suddenly I feel like I'm imposing on Katniss's time with her sister. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"I can sit in the back," Prim laughs. "And now that you're going with us, you can keep Katniss out of my hair while we're out." She steps to the side and throws a small purse into the back seat before hopping in.

I look at Katniss and smirk when she glares at her sister. I push the thoughts of imposition away and settle into the passenger seat, enjoying the warmth of the sun on the side of my face.

"Buckle up," Katniss instructs her sister, waiting until she hears the belt lock into place before pulling back out of the driveway.

XXX

When we get to the park, Prim is out of the car and running across the grass as soon as Katniss's car is in park. Katniss and I are a little slower, taking time to roll up the car windows and lock the doors before setting off toward the water.

Walking through the grass that is still well kept and now covered in bright yellow dandelions, I suddenly remember the first time Katniss brought me to here.

"You can just throw your bike down in the grass," Katniss says, dropping her own down with a thud. I follow her lead and abandon my bike in the grass, jogging to catch up to her as she walks toward the water.

"This is the park," Katniss announces, spreading her arms out. "Well, it used to be the park. A new park was just built a little further away. It's much nicer, so that's why nobody comes here anymore unless they are going to play basketball."

"They don't have basketball courts at the new park?" I question.

"They do, but so many people go there that they're usually full. Since they took down the playground equipment here, but left the basketball courts, people come here to play sometimes." She nods at me, seemingly satisfied with her explanation. "I still like this place better, though."

I stand in awe and watch her talk. This is the most I've ever heard her speak. Her voice is nice. Higher and lighter than I'd imagined it being.

"I like it," I say with a shrug. It's a big place with a lot more space than any of the parks back home. A wooded area surrounds us, and right in the center is a large lake. I smile when I spot a line of ducks swimming across it. "Do you swim here?"

"You don't want to go in that water," Katniss warns, shaking her head. "It's disgusting. You'll see when we get closer."

She's right. As we walk across the grass and my focus on the lake becomes clearer, I can see how green and cloudy the water is algae that I can only imagine getting tangled in floating as far as the eye can see.

Katniss sits herself down in the grass about ten feet from the water and pulls her knees up to her chest. I plop myself down beside her and take in my surroundings.

"So," Katniss says, staring out into the water. "Why did your family move here?"

"My parents bought a new bakery in town," I explain. "Too far to drive to every day, so we all moved here."

Katniss nods, still keeping her focus on the water.

"How far did you move?" She asks.

"About 150 miles, I guess," I shrug.

"Do you miss your friends?"

"Sometimes. It would have been nice to start high school with them instead of strangers, but my dad said he'd drive me back there to see them whenever I want."

"Do you think I'm a stranger?" Katniss asks.

"I don't know anything about you except for your name, so.. yeah," I reply honestly.

"You agreed to go to an unknown park with a stranger?" She teases.

"I don't know how to make friends any other way," I reason.

"Well, what do you want to know about me?"

Katniss is a lot different when she's not at school. Less standoffish - funny, even. And I haven't seen her scowl once.

"I'll start with something simple. What's your favorite color?" I ask. "Mine's orange."

"Green," Katniss says quickly. "Can I ask one?" I nod. "How old are you, and when's your birthday?"

"That's two questions," I say with a smirk. I see the corner of Katniss's mouth pull up into a grin. "I'm fourteen, and my birthday is in March."

"You're older than me," Katniss pouts. "My birthday isn't until May."

We fall into an uncomfortable silence as we both stare out into the water, watching the family of ducks wade through the water. The sound of Katniss clearing her throat brings my attention back to her.

"So.. why'd you do it?" She asks in a voice just above a whisper, her tone completely changed as she plucks a dandelion from from grass and blows on it, causing the fluff to float through the air.

"Do what?"

"Give me your homework to copy." She looks at me with a scowl. I spoke too soon. She throws the dandelion stem to the ground angrily, her eyes hard and unreadable.

"Oh." I shrug. "I didn't like the way the teacher yelled at you last time, and three missed assignments is detention, right?"

Katniss sits next to me in Mr. Abernathy's math class. In just this first month of school, Katniss has missed handing in two assignments already, and Mr. Abernathy only allows three missed assignments for the entire semester before he starts handing out detentions.

When I noticed that Katniss didn't have her homework again, I quickly slipped her my sheet of answers and let her copy them before Mr. Abernathy came around to check our work.

After class, Katniss stopped me in the hall and asked if I'd be interested in riding to the park with her after school. I agreed happily, eager to make a friend, but at the moment, I'm beginning to question my decision to come here with her. She's angry. She narrows her eyes at me and clenches her jaw, and I can't help but wonder if she brought me here just to tell me off.

"I'm not stupid, you know," Katniss snaps.

"I didn't say you were," I say defensively.

"I can do the work just fine. It's just that I..." She stops and looks at me again, her expression softening just a bit, as though she's trying to decide if she should finish her sentence. "I don't always have the time to get everything done that I need to everyday."

"What do you mean? What kind of stuff do you have to do?" I ask gently.

"Laundry, dinner, making sure my sister's homework is done," Katniss rattles off. "Everything, I guess."

"What about your parents?"

That was the day that I learned that Katniss's father had died three years earlier, and that her mother is still often consumed by her grief. Even though she still works at the hospital, she frequently disappears to her room for days at a time, leaving Katniss and Prim to fend for themselves.

It was also the day Katniss and I decided to become homework buddies.

It started off with me going to her house all the time. While I was there, I would also help her get the laundry and dinner done, sometimes even helping Prim with her homework. Eventually, as Prim became more independent and started chipping in, Katniss was able to start coming to my house too, where she'd help me set the table for dinner, wash dishes afterwards, and occasionally, take a trip here to the park together.

That's what our friendship was until this past winter. Between the things we've now done and the things we still haven't said, everything feels like it has been turned upside down. I scan the area and find Prim, far off in the distance, digging into her purse and feeding a mangy, orange cat.

"Prim's found her stupid cat," Katniss says, rolling her eyes.

Katniss has told me all about this cat. How one afternoon, about a year ago, she and Prim came here to the park and the ugly cat sauntered up to Prim out of nowhere, purring and rubbing on her leg and never leaving Prim's side. The next time they came back, he was still here. Eventually, Prim started bringing food for him to eat and tried to bring him home, but he wouldn't stay. The very next day he was right back here. It's why she likes to come here so much. To see that cat. She even named him Buttercup.

"Why do you hate cats?" I ask with a chuckle.

"I hate Prim's cat, not all cats," Katniss reminds me, joining my laughter.

All at once, we fall silent as though we both remember the first time Katniss said that to me. I feel the opportunity to speak slipping away, so I keep my eye on Prim to make sure she's not coming back toward us and take a deep breath, steady my body, and urge myself to say something.

"Katniss?" I say, coaxing her to look at me. "I think we need to talk."

Katniss is silent for a while, pulling at the dandelions underneath us and twirling them in her fingers, the same way she did the first time we came here, only these dandelions are bright yellow and begin to stain her fingers as she starts to crush the flowers between her thumb and forefinger.

"I think so, too," Katniss finally admits with a sigh. She meets my gaze with hesitance. There is worry in her eyes. Over what, I'm not sure, but her silence tells me that she's waiting for me to start.

Where do I even begin? Do I ask her how we got where we are now without talking about it first? Do I ask her how far she wants to take this while casually mentioning that my brother has already supplied me with condoms that are now sitting in the drawer of the table in my room, just in case we ever decide to take things even further than we already have? Nothing sounds right, so instead, I spit out the first thing I can think of.

"I had fun today," I offer, lamely. "I mean!" I stammer, trying to get the words out. "I always have fun with you. Even before..."

"I know what you mean," Katniss says, keeping her eyes on Prim.

"I like spending time with you."

"I like spending time with you, too," Katniss replies, finally looking at me. She feigns a smile, but I can still see the apprehension in her eyes.

This is not going the way I imagined it would. I sigh, frustrated, and try again.

"No. I mean, I really like spending time with you." Katniss raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. "So much, that I think.. maybe we could be good.. together."

"Together?" Katniss repeats.

"As more than friends," I say on the exhale. My breathing is short from the nerves that have now set in, and my heart thumps wildly against my chest as I wait for Katniss to answer.

Her silence threatens to crush me. Each second that ticks by is like another weight added to my chest. Katniss has turned her focus to Prim again, who is now holding the cat like a baby as she sways back and forth. She's fine, Katniss. Can you at least look at me?

It catches me by surprise when she whips her head around to look at me again. Her eyes are softer, almost sympathetic. I brace myself for her rejection.

"So do I," Katniss murmurs.

A wide grin breaks out across my face before I have time to stop it. Katniss laughs airly, as if she's relieved to have finally admitted it. I want to lean over and kiss her, show her how happy I am to hear that she has had the same thoughts I have, but I know she would never allow it with Prim so close. Instead, I reach between us and grab her hand and the dandelion she was holding. I lace our fingers together and hold the wilted and crushed flower in front of us.

"I'm not sure we can save this one," I say with mock sadness. "And so young, too."

"Let's give him a burial at sea," Katniss adds, plucking the dandelion from my fingers and throwing it into the water. We watch it float on the surface in silence.

"I've been trying to figure out a way to talk to you for weeks," I finally confess sheepishly, steering the conversation back to where it needs to be right now. As little as we did say, now that it's out in the open, I feel lighter somehow - elated, even. "If I knew it'd be this easy, I would have done it a long time ago."

Katniss's hand finds my face, and for a fleeting moment, she gently rubs the pad of her thumb across my cheek bone, pulling away before Prim has a chance to look our way.

"I was hoping you'd get the hint that I liked you when I asked you to show me how you masturbate," Katniss says. She tries to sound serious, but soon she falls into a fit of laughter, covering her face with her hand. "Oh, God. I can't believe I actually asked you to do that. After I got home that night, the only thing I could keep replaying in my head was how stupid I probably sounded."

"You didn't sound stupid. It worked, didn't it?" I remind her, catching the tail end of her braid between my fingers. "It took a couple of months, but it worked."

"It has been a nice couple of months, too," Katniss adds.

"I'm hoping that the next couple will be even better," I smile.

It's nice being able to say these things out loud, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still a little nervous about it. Katniss can be unpredictable, sometimes. From hour to hour, I often don't know if something I say will result in a kiss or a punch in the arm. This time, I'm met with a timid smile.

"So am I," she replies, reaching into the grass and grabbing hold of my hand again.

XXX

Katniss pulls into my driveway and puts her car in park just behind Rye's. Turning to face me in the passenger's seat, she smiles.

"Thanks for coming with us today," Katniss says.

"Yeah, Peeta," Prim chimes in from the back seat. "Thanks for keeping Katniss out of my hair for the afternoon."

"You're welcome," I laugh, turning my attention back to Katniss. "I'll see you tomorrow? Before your shift at work?"

"Yeah," Katniss says tenderly. "Tomorrow."

Her stare feels as though it will seer a hole right through me. She licks her lips and sighs, knowing she can't kiss me right now. As though sensing the tension, Prim clears her throat.

"You can kiss him if you want, Katniss. I won't look."

"Prim!" Katniss snaps. I can't help but laugh, shielding my smile behind my hand.

"You're so transparent," Prim says. I can almost hear her rolling her eyes just from her tone. "I know you want to kiss him, so just do it."

I look back then to see that Prim has turned her head and is staring out the window, keeping her promise not to look.

"May as well," I shrug.

Katniss glowers at me for just a second before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to my waiting lips.

The urge to deepen the kiss is almost overwhelming, but I remember Prim sitting in the backseat, so I pull away reluctantly, taking Katniss's hand in mine and squeezing.

"Text me later?" Katniss asks after I've opened the car door.

"You bet," I say, trying to keep the mischief from my voice. We text every night before bed, but tonight, I have a little something different in mind to text her after I slip into bed.

I wave as Katniss pulls out of the driveway and make my way into the house, stopping dead in my tracks when I see my parents sitting in the living room. It's not unusual to see my father home in the middle of a business day, he is almost always home by mid-afternoon. My mother on the other hand is a different story.

Since we moved here, I hardly see my mother. It was her idea to have the bakery open seven days a week. She is out of the house and there before I even wake up in the morning, and she doesn't come home until after closing time at night. I see her at dinner, but I usually retreat to my bedroom immediately afterward.

"Hey," I say in greeting. I can sense something is wrong. "What's going on?"

"Was Katniss here today?" My father asks. There's something in his voice that I can't decipher. Something like a mix between interrogating and skepticism.

"Yeah, and then we took her sister to the park," I reply.

"And what about before that?"

"Dad, I -"

"Peeta," my father interrupts sounding exasperated. "Just answer the question."

"We just hung out, like always," I reply.

"Are you two having sex?" he asks then.

"No," I say quickly. Too quickly for my mother, who scoffs and shakes her head.

"He's lying, Tim," my mother says accusingly.

I stand in front of my parents at a loss for words. I can't put my head around how in less than a minute, they have started a round of questioning that threatens to ruin everything. Anger has begun to steadily build in response to my mother's cold tone and the disapproving look that now stares back at me.

"Your mother has reason to believe otherwise," my father says, almost indifferently.

"Well then maybe my mother should talk to me about this herself instead of going through a third party," I spit back.

"He's your father!" my mother retorts.

"Only when you want him to do your dirty work," I mumble angrily.

My mother begins to push herself up from the couch but is stopped when my father's hand pushes down on her shoulder, keeping her in place.

"Peeta," he begins sternly. "We asked you a question. Are you and Katniss having sex?"

"I already told you no!" I yell.

"And that is a lie!" My mother yells back.

When Rye's bedroom door opens and he pokes his head out, my anger reaches a whole new level. He told them. He must have. How else would they know?

"What's going on? Who's yelling?" Rye asks.

My feet are moving and carrying me down the hall before I even realize it. I make it to Rye's door quickly and push it open angrily.

"You told them!" I snarl, pushing him into the wall. "You fucking told them!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Rye growls. He grabs my arms and pushes me away just in time for my father to catch me by the shoulders.

"You told them about me and Katniss!" I hiss in Rye's direction.

"I didn't tell them anything!"

I attempt to go after Rye a second time, but my father's grip on me is too strong to break out of.

"Peeta!" my father yells, gripping my shoulders harder and spinning me around to face him. "Rye didn't tell us anything." He sighs and clenches his jaw. "If I let go of you, can you not go after your brother again?"

"Fine," I snap.

My father's hands drop from my shoulders and I look at him expectantly.

"Why did you lie?" he asks.

"I didn't lie," I shrug. "We're not having sex."

"That's not what your mother claims to have heard this morning."

"What?" I ask, horrified.

"Come on," my father says unhappily. He grabs my shoulder again and leads me back into the living room where my mother still sits on the couch, chewing on the inside of her cheek, her eyes trained on the wall.

"Rhoda? Tell him," my father instructs.

I watch my mother steel herself and swallow her anger before looking at me, but when her eyes land on me, they are still cold and unforgiving.

"I had to stop home this morning," she begins cooly. "And when I did, I heard.. you two in your bedroom." She finishes her sentence with a disgusted scoff, causing me to break eye contact and drop my gaze to the floor guiltily. "Do you have anything to say?" she asks bitingly.

I keep my eyes on the floor as I try to think of something I could say. Any excuse to get them to believe that something else was happening, but I can't think of anything. I remember how loud we were this morning. Our careless moans must have pierced through the hall, unmistakable to recognize.

"No," I finally answer, shame and embarrassment coursing through my body.

"I don't want her here anymore." I open my mouth to argue, but my mother puts her hand up to silence me. "And I already called her mother and informed her of what you two have been up to."

"You're ridiculous," I say scathingly. This time, without my father to stop her, my mother jumps up from the couch and steps toward me.

"Peeta! Go to your room!" My father bellows. "Now!"

"Gladly," I hiss through gritted teeth, plodding out of the living room and down the hall.

Slamming my bedroom door behind me, I stand in front of it and listen to the shouting match that has started between my parents since I left the living room.

"Why would you tell her mother?!"

"She has a right to know what her daughter has been doing!"

My mother's tone is icy, but there's something in it that also sounds satisfied.

"Are you trying to keep them apart? Rhoda, he is seventeen years old! If he wants a girlfriend, he should be allowed to have a girlfriend!"

"He can have a girlfriend, but she won't be in my house. Not after they both defied our rules right in our own home, and then he lied to us!"

I hear my father groan exasperatedly seconds before another door slams. I can't make out the direction it came from, but I'm willing to bet that my mother is on her way back to the bakery and will probably be there through the night. It's the typical pattern when they fight.

My thoughts immediately drift to Katniss. Did she experience the same embarrassing interrogation as I did? I grab my phone and send a quick text, knowing better than to call right now.

"Park tomorrow. 10am."

I ignore my father's shouts for me to come have dinner and spend the evening sketching and staring at my phone, waiting for Katniss to text back.

I fall into a restless sleep, waking almost every hour to check my phone for a reply, but it never comes.

XXX

It's 9:30 in the morning when I get to the park. Katniss never returned my text, so I'm here on blind faith, hoping she'll show up.

I make the mistake of letting my mind wander while I wait. What if she doesn't want to see me anymore? What if she thinks what we've started and gotten ourselves into is a mistake and suggests we try to go back to being just friends - or worse - nothing at all?

The sound of a car honking breaks me from my thoughts. I whip around and spot Katniss's car pulling into the parking space next to me.

I wave her over to my car and unlock the door, waiting as she situates herself and exits her car. I heave a sigh of relief. She showed up.

Katniss slips into the passenger seat of my car and looks at me with sad, nervous eyes.

"My mom said you can't come over anymore," she blurts out.

"Mine said the same thing," I say, starting my car and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" Katniss asks.

"Away from town for today," I begin. "To the other park."

"Why?" Katniss questions. "Are you trying to hide from your mother?"

"Yes," I admit.

"Peeta..."

"She didn't say we couldn't see each other, but I'm afraid that if she were to catch wind that we were together right now, she'd change her mind," I explain.

"She wouldn't do that. Would she?"

"You don't know my mother," I say, laughing bitterly.

And she doesn't. In the three years I've known Katniss I can count on one hand the amount of times she has been around my mother, and just about all of them have been when Katniss has stayed for dinner. I don't talk about my mother much, the same way Katniss doesn't talk about her father. It's much easier not to.

"She'll need a few days to calm down before it's safe for us to be seen in town together," I add, ending the conversation..

The drive to the newer park outside of town is silent. I try to rehearse in my head what I'll say when we get there, but when I pull into the parking space and turn my car off, all of the words seem to leave me and I find myself fumbling over words, grasping desperately at the few things that are still floating through my mind.

"I still want to see you," I say hastily.

"I still want to see you, too," Katniss replies, though she looks confused. "I mean, we'll see each other at school, right?

"I can't kiss you at school," I remind her, leaning in to kiss her neck. "Or taste you. I think I'll go out of my mind if I can never taste you again," I whisper.

Katniss sighs loudly, curling her fingers through my hair and guiding my head upward toward her lips.

"What are we going to do?" she asks, sadly. "I feel like this is my fault."

"It's not," I assure her, resting my forehead against hers. "We'll just have to be clever about where we meet each other, that's all. We have our cars, we have our park. It's almost always just us there." I kiss a line across her jaw up to her lips. "Not like here."

The reminder that we're surrounded by people makes Katniss pull away from me. She sets her palm flat against my chest, ensuring I keep my distance.

"This makes it feel wrong," she mutters.

"Don't say that," I plead.

"I can't help it." She wraps her arm around the back of my neck and brings my mouth down to hers again, kissing me with desperate force. "But I need to see you," she whispers. "I need you."

"We'll figure this out, I promise." I cup her head in my hands, and Katniss's eyes flutter closed when my thumbs come up and brush her cheeks.

"Can you take me back to my car now?" She asks shakily. When she opens her eyes, I can see tears have begun to gather in the corners.

I want to question her. Ask her why she wants to leave when she doesn't have to work until this afternoon, but I can see that wouldn't be a good idea right now. I sigh and nod, letting go of her face.

Our ride back to Katniss's car is mostly silently, only interrupted by the sound of Katniss's light sniffling that she tries to keep me from hearing. The urge to pull the car to the side of the road and comfort her is strong. I need to promise her again that everything will be ok and that we'll get through this, but I know that will only make things worse, so I spend the rest of the drive keeping my eyes glued to the road, acting as though I don't hear Katniss crying right next to me.

"Text me when you finish work?" I ask when I drop Katniss off by her car.

"Okay," Katniss says, noncommittally. She leaves my car and closes the door before I get the chance to say goodbye, leaving me to wonder if that text will ever come.

Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated.