A/N - Written for everlarkbirthdaydrabbles on Tumblr.

I check the bag before ringing the doorbell. It's my standard Katniss break-up kit. Two pints of Ben and Jerry's Super Fudge Chunk, a bag of M&Ms, and the entire Harry Potter series on DVD.

She'll eat. She'll cry. We'll snuggle on the couch, and she'll fall asleep halfway through the Prisoner of Askaban, just like she always does. I'll hold her in my arms until morning, and for eight glorious hours, I'll be the most important man in Katniss Everdeen's life. The one she needs.

Just not the one she wants.

I've probably been in love with Katniss since that first day of drama practice back in high school. The wrestling team had volunteered to serve as the stage crew, hauling backdrops and props on and off the set as Dorothy and Toto explored the land of Oz. I'd noticed her before, of course; the way any living, breathing teenage guy notices a pretty girl with a long dark braid, startling grey eyes and a permanent attitude. But when she opened her mouth and the first notes of "Over the Rainbow" slipped from her lips, I was spellbound. A goner.

Somewhere along the way, through the months of rehearsals, we became friends. It started with a shared smile as I rolled one piece of set into the eaves and she was taking her position. It moved on to jokes as she waited backstage for her cue and I was, well, waiting for her to notice how much I liked her. The night of the wrap party, we sat side by side on the old sofa in Finnick Odair's rec room, sipping the vile punch Finnick had spiked with whatever he could steal from his parent's liquor cabinet. I was working up the courage to ask her out at last. She was smiling softly, giggling, as I teased her over one stupid thing or another when that twat waffle, Marvel Williams, popped out of nowhere.

"Hey Kat, wanna go to the movies next weekend?"

She glanced at me quickly and then turned her gaze to Marvel and shrugged.

"Sure, I guess."

They made plans while I tried not throw up in my cup. Eight weeks later, I found her crying by her locker. She'd caught Marvel snuggled up with Cashmere Evans. When she'd confronted him, he'd told her she was too "pure."

Katniss's nose wrinkled when she repeated the word 'pure' to me. "What do you think, Peeta?" She wiped her eyes. "Do you think I'm too pure?"

"I think you're perfect." She looked up at me from under her eyelashes, gave a watery chuckle, and my heart did a slow somersault. "Hey," I flicked her chin, and settled my shoulder into the locker next to hers. "Want me to beat him up?" I really wanted her to say yes. I'd been wanting to plant my fist in his face since Finnick's party.

She laughed again, more confident this time, and shook her head, before leaning against my shoulder. "I'm so glad we're friends, Peeta."

Friend-zoned. And that is where she's kept me for the last six years. She texts me 10 times a day. She tells me everything first. When her sister drags her to the mall to shop, she sends me pictures and asks me what I think. But while I get a vote on whether those jeans make her butt look big, she never asks my opinions on the guys she dates.

But tonight she's going to hear it, whether she likes it or not. Switching the bag to my other hand, I ring the doorbell and bounce on my toes waiting for her to answer. When she doesn't come to the door, I ring it again; more insistently this time. Still no answer.

I have a key to her apartment so that I can feed Buttercup, her ungrateful cat. She's a reporter and works crazy hours. Sometimes I use it to drop off treats from my dad's bakery when I'm passing by on my way home from there. She's got a fondness for our cheese buns and finding ways to make Katniss smile is my favourite hobby.

I've never let myself into her apartment when she's home. Until today, because she has always answered, no matter how shitty she was feeling. The apartment is in darkness, but I know she's here. It's only been an hour since she sent me the text announcing Cato Coughlin's departure from her life. He is, without a doubt, the biggest dickwad she's dated in a history of losers.

Curiously, Buttercup is not up to his usual tricks - winding himself around my ankles and pretending to like me just in case I drop a little treat for him. I stow the ice cream in the freezer and go off in search of my best friend.

Her bedroom door is closed, but I can hear the sniffles behind it. I push it open and find her curled up in bed. Buttercup is standing guard in the glow of the lamp on her bedside table. He blinks, shoots me a look that says, "Don't fuck this up," and then jumps off the bed.

I want to run across the room and gather her into my arms, but I don't. I just lean against the door frame and cross one foot over the other. "You've looked better." And it's true. Her eyes are swollen and her hair looks like a rat's nest. But it doesn't matter, she still sends my pulse fluttering.

She shoots me a scowl. "I can't believe you'd say that to me right now, after the night I've had. He had that slut Glimmer in his bed, Peeta!"

Ah, Glimmer Reynolds. The ex who's been trying to get Cato back almost since he and Katniss started dating. I guess she finally succeeded.

"He's a douchebag. Want me to beat him up?"

She laughs at my standard line, like always. "I wouldn't mind it, just this once."

I cross the room and sit on the corner of her bed, grasping her ankle through the covers and giving it a shake. "C'mon. I've got ice cream."

She's curled up on the couch, eating her ice cream out of the container and I'm sliding Sorcerer's Stone into her DVD player, when the words slip out. "I don't know why you bothered with him anyway, Katniss." I don't have to turn around to know that her spoon is frozen in mid-air. "He's a stupid fuck if he can't see how great you are. You can do so much better."

The WB logo comes up on the screen and when I make my way back to the couch, she's already digging into her ice-cream again. I've barely had a chance to get comfortable when she replies.

"I'm a loser magnet," she mutters. "If there's a loser within 100 miles, I guarantee you, he'll find me and ask me out."

I give her a gentle kick from my end of the couch. "You don't have to say yes."

She rolls her eyes. "No one decent has ever wanted me."

I'm insulted and saddened all at once. "You truly have no idea, do you?" Fuck, I can't believe I said that.

"What?" she demands. I can't answer. It's like my tongue is stuck in first gear while my mind races ahead of me. She kicks me back, not so gently this time. "Peeta! What are you talking about?"

My mouth catches up to my brain. "Katniss, you're amazing. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

She scoffs. "Sure. Like any normal guy would ever put up with my ridiculous work schedule."

I tell her not to be dumb. Any guy worth having would be supportive of her career.

"I'm not pretty. I've got no figure to speak of."

I've got a hard-on everytime I'm near her, and she think's she's unattractive? "Stop. You're gorgeous."

"And I don't trust anybody."

"That's not true. You're just careful. There's nothing wrong with that. And anyway, Cato wasn't worth your trust. He's more than a douchebag, Katniss. He's a douchecanoe."

She throws her head back and laughs until the tears roll down her face. "What the hell is that?"

"A huge douche. A douchebag big enough to haul around 50 douches." I get a disbelieving look. "It's true. Check Urban Dictionary if you don't believe me."

She chuckles and snorts, stabbing at her ice cream until she extracts a piece of fudge, before growing serious again. "You wouldn't believe what he said to me."

Her eyes flick to the television. Hagrid is bashing in the door to the hut on the rock. I watch her while he props it back into place before pushing her to continue.

"What Katniss? What did he say?"

She's digging in her ice cream again, unable to look at me. "He said he couldn't understand why I was so upset about him fucking Glimmer, since…" she blushes.

I can feel my fists clenching. I may be facing an assault charge after all. "What. Did he. Say."

"Since you and I having been screwing around for years," she blurts out. "And I told him that he was wrong, that we were only friends, and you could never want me that way, and he said that was bullshit. He'd seen the way you look at me."

Huh. Cato was still a double XL asshole. Just maybe not as stupid as I'd thought. I chew on the inside of my cheek, searching for a comeback, but for once, I'm totally without words.

"Peeta?"

My heart is pounding. My face is hot. I rub my sweaty palms on my legs, and I know, this is it. I lick my lips and let the words fly free.

"What makes you think I could never want you like that?" I croak it out like a frog, but I don't care. At least it's out there and she can't ignore it anymore.

Her gaze becomes puzzled. "Because we're friends. Because you're the best man I know. Because you've never said anything or tried anything. Because…"

"Because you've never truly looked at me, Katniss."

The sorting hat is hovering over Harry's head when she pauses the movie. She tosses the ice cream carton on the coffee table and stalks to the living room window to stare at the lights of the cars whipping past the building 10 stories below.

She wraps her arms around herself. "No, that's not true," she insists, shaking her head. "No. I would have noticed."

I am glued to my spot on the sofa. "Katniss-"

"You!" She points at me accusingly. "You- You've had girlfriends. Lots of them."

The crack of my hands slapping against my knees as I stand up fills the room. "Yes!" I shout, and run my fingers through my hair in frustration. "Yes, I've had girlfriends. I'm not a monk, Katniss, and you're not interested, so…"

She's watching out the window again. "I never said that."

The words are almost a whisper, but they turn me into a statue. Time stops, but I manage to move my lips. "What?"

She turns around to face me. "I never said I wasn't interested."

My heart resumes beating, a tiny flutter of hope takes hold, but still I stand there, frozen. "You are?"

She she shrugs and twists what's left of her trademark braid around her finger. "Yeah, but I figured you weren't… I mean, you've never said anything."

I hold out my arms, and suddenly she's there, wrapped around my chest, her head tucked under my chin like it belongs there. I lay my cheek against the top of her head, and exhale slowly.

"I tried, Katniss. I tried so many times. But I was afraid I'd lose you. I'd rather have this much of you, than nothing at all."

She shudders and then pulls back enough to look at me. "You're my best friend. You could never lose me and I-"

I lay my finger over her lips. She's said those three words to me before, but I don't ever want to hear them from her again. At least, not so close to the word 'friend'.

Framing her cheeks in my hands, I place a kiss against her forehead. Then, drawing back, my thumbs stroke lightly against her cheekbones as I gaze into her eyes; pools of molten silver, flecked with gold. I brush my nose against hers, our lips hovering only an inch apart, until finally, her eyelids flutter closed.

The first touch of our lips is tentative, like the first taste of an exotic new dish you immediately know will become your favourite. Then she sinks into my arms with a moan, her arms sliding up my back as I tug her snug against me. Her fingers find my hair, tugging slightly at the roots even as our mouths open and our tongues tangle together.

A charge zips through my body, my heart pounds and I know I could fly if only I had wings. It's the best kiss I've ever had, the most perfect.

I always knew she was perfect.

Better yet, this is perfect.

When we finally pull apart, it feels like I've lived a lifetime in the five minutes I've held her in my arms. Her lips are swollen; her eyes, luminous and dancing. She embraces me once more, softly, before settling her cheek against my chest again with a satisfied sigh. The apartment so quiet that I can hear our hearts beating in time with the kitchen clock.

So I ask her, because after six years of waiting and the most incredible kiss of my life, I need to know. I'm past holding back. "You love me, real or not real?"

The five seconds it takes her to raise her head and look me in the eye feel like an eternity, but they are worth it.

"Real," she says, with a smile full of joy that is meant just for me.