A/N: WOW! :O last chapter's response was too amazing for words. Someone even said that my story had renewed their faith in love :') sadly it was a guest so I couldn't thank them but your review made my day. You know who you are. And a special thanks to everyone who reviewed. I loved reading your suggestions and your thoughts on what you liked best. There is no better inspiration for me than you guys. Special shout out to you guys! Enjoy!

Chapter 9

My hands turn cold and disgustingly sweaty at the thought that in a few minutes I will be alone with Peeta again. There is a mutual silent agreement between us that we can't avoid talking about whatever it is that happened at the meadow. I only need to look at him out of the corner of my eye to see the thought plainly written on his face.

Now I don't want the dinner to come to an end. I want to stay here surrounded by people where I can pretend it's all good. Now I want the Capitol people on the screen to go on talking forever about the beautiful first day of our honeymoon.

But much too soon it is over.

I hurriedly wave at the chef to come over and I order dessert. Anything to prolong this, even though I know it will be fruitless, because I know that no matter how many desserts I order, sooner or later I will have to face this.

But my fluttering heart doesn't listen and forces me to eat my dessert as slowly as possible. It gives me some comfort to see how Peeta chews his a little more than necessary, as well.

The dining room starts clearing out and soon we are the last table occupied here. I see the employees standing around, restless, I'm sure wanting for us to finish already so they can finish their shift and go home.

I think of ordering another dessert but guilt stops me. It's not these people's fault that I am a coward and I am being immature. I should just get this over with and move on.

I stand up and I see several employees modestly sighing in relief and more guilt invades me. Peeta stands up as well and we give our thanks to the chef and walk out arm in arm.

Peeta looks at the floor constantly almost as if he was looking for something he had lost and I look ahead. Then we switch; I am looking down and he looks forward. Then we switch again. We are ridiculous.

Peeta licks his lip and I recognize the motion as meaning that he is about to speak but I beat him to it, before he can bring up the dreaded subject.

"How about those Katniss buns, huh?" I say trying to offer some comic relief but only making things worse, as usually happens when I open my mouth. Then people wonder why I am quiet.

He gives me a complementary chuckle, forced, obviously.

Katniss, just shut up, ok? I tell myself.

I bite my lips together for double measure. I don't trust my mouth. It does things without permission. And a flash of the past few days only proves my point. I kissed Peeta's cheek on our wedding night. I told him since he was my husband he could tell me I looked pretty. I yelled at the receptionist when she tried flirting with Peeta. The way I kissed him on the meadow... Specially the way I kissed him on the meadow. What the heck is my problem? Why am I such a mess lately? Oh, God! Why was I staring at his eyes and dashi... no! normal smile?

I remember now why it is that I don't ever dwell on these things. It never does anyone any good.

And poor Peeta is probably asking himself these very same questions and answering them in hopeful ways. Oh my god! My reckless actions have probably given him false hope! Why have I been so careless?

Then people wonder why I am so uptight! I can't relax. I was so stupid to think I could just let myself go during this week. These things happen when I am not on guard. It is just so difficult to act one way for the cameras and another way in private. It is so hard to keep up with what is real and what isn't. I guess I have let the two personalities slowly merge and now I have confused Peeta and myself, and worse, given him false hope. Poor Peeta, of all people to get fake-married to, he had to get tangled with me. I can't keep my own life together, let alone two!

No, tonight we will not talk about that kiss. Not tonight, not ever. It will only hurt him more. And I promised that I would try my hardest to make Peeta's life with me as bearable and happy as possible. And I lost sight of that promise.

But it's time to get focused again. It may momentarily confuse Peeta but it will be better in the long run. I have to get a hold of myself. Do what is best for Peeta. Do what is best for Peeta. Do what is best for Peeta. I repeat this in my head.

What is that? It is best for him to continue thinking that everything that has happened so far has been my plan for the cameras, and not a lack of judgment on my part.

I mentally pat myself on the back and I feel a little proud in the hard decisions I have made tonight, even though my emotions want to go on an opposite route.

We have been in the room for a little bit now and neither one of us has spoken a word. We have just gone about our routine as usual, getting ready for bed.

Peeta seems hesitant, perhaps waiting for me to start the conversation. Well, I won't. Matter of fact I have put on my signature scowl, and I try to look as uninviting as possible, to make sure he doesn't do something stupid. Like bring up the kiss or something.

After a while, I think my plan has worked. He doesn't seem hesitant anymore. He just looks... terribly sad.

I know I should be happy that we have both decided to avoid this conversation but I can't help but feel this horrible turmoil in my stomach.

He is dressed in his pajamas and is sitting by the glass wall, staring out into the dark landscape.

I want to run to him and give him a hug and explain all my thoughts but I remember my promise and I know it will best if I don't. I will only add more confusion in the mix.

So I get in the cold lonely bed and get in fetal position, trying to generate the warmth I have gotten used to but cannot attain without a second body.

The cold keeps me up but Peeta doesn't stir from where he is. I want to call out to him, to ask him to come and hold me but I don't dare. And I can only torture myself thinking of all the wrong thoughts that are going through his head and how I want to make them right, to explain everything and wipe away that wounded expression from his face. That face that should only ever look happy and smiling and kind, because that is who Peeta is and that is what he deserves.

He doesn't deserve to be stuck with me.

A silent tear rolls down my eye and hits the mattress. Minutes later, I feel the cool wetness of the sheets, soaked in my stupid tears, and I fall asleep, out of complete and utter mental exhaustion.

The next few days fly in a blur. It feels a lot like the past.

We act sickeningly loving outside the room, then silent and taciturn when we are alone.

How did we get here? Things were so perfect during the Victory tour. In regards to us only, of course. We had found a balance where we could pretend, or better said, I could pretend to be in love in front of the cameras and we would just turn into good friends when we were alone.

Only I don't know how to make that happen. It was Peeta who did that. He knew just how to do it, how to make it happen. I just followed his lead.

But Peeta is not trying anymore. What did I ever do to this poor boy? How did I tear hope from him in this way? How did I make his enthusiastic smile disappear and erase the spark from his eyes? Why do I destroy everything beautiful and kind? No wonder I won the Hunger Games. No one decent ever does.

In this lethargic manner the rest of our days at the resort pass by and then we were packing and getting into the car that would take us to the Capitol and then on the train back to District 12, just in time for the reaping.

And out of nowhere, this desperate wish to see Haymitch rises in me and I count the hours till I can see him and talk to him. I hope that from the episodes he might have an idea of what has been going on so I don't have to tell him or ask for his advice. He will more likely give it to me anyway. And I am severely hoping for it.

It is sad indeed when your only true source of guidance comes from a drunk. It is sad indeed. Yet, somehow he shifted at one point from being my game mentor into life mentor. It must be in his nature.

But as badly as I want to see him and my mom and Prim, I dread going back. Because it will mean that two more children will be sentenced to death.

This Quarter Quell will consist of a reaping of children who have committed crimes, Gale would be in there without a doubt, if he wasn't 19 already, and the children of criminals. What a clever way of the Capitol to punish the traitors. Take the rebellious children and the children of the rebellious ones and kill them in some sort of sport. It will be a sure way to calm things. There is no better way to get anyone who had thought of uprising to think better of it or to teach a lesson to the ones who had already tried.

There is one positive outcome to this. I know Prim will be safe. But what about Gale's brothers and sisters? Will they be put in there because of Gale's incident with the goose and the new Head Peacekeeper?

I hope not. No matter where Gale and I stand, they do not deserve this. None of these children do. Not the ones who out of hunger and necessity have violated the law, or whose parents have. They should not have to pay for whatever decisions their parents have made.

I can tell we are almost here as I feel the train slowing down. I peek out of the window and see Prim, my mom, Haymiitch, Cinna and my prep team all waving at me. Cinna and the prep team must have come early to prepare. After all the reaping is in only a few hours.

I also see Peeta's brothers and dad waiting to receive him, but no sign of his mother. I am not surprised. But by the look on Peeta's eyes, I can tell he held some hope.

I risk a tentative smile at him that he acknowledges but doesn't return. Is it really that bad that he won't even make an effort to smile back at me?

I don't blame him, to be honest.

I get off the train and run to everyone to hug them. Forget pride, I have missed them too much. I have missed them and I have missed having love and affection.

Thankfully, a busy day awaits me, which should guarantee I won't have a second to remember to pity myself. I will be too busy sorrowing for others more unfortunate than me.

A/N: Ok, before you all hate me, I want to tell you I have big, big, big, big, plans! As our dear Effie would say. This chapter was needed to move the story along. I mean, you guys want to get to the good part, right? Well, I tell you, it's coming! Just trust me please, and do not give up on me! I will make it all worth it! Or at least I hope you guys will think so.

Regardless, please leave me your thoughts, whether they are positive or negative, I will appreciate them all! :) Love you, guys!