Chapter 7- Warmth

The food smells delicious as I walk into the kitchen. Haymitch has plopped himself on a chair at the table, hunching over a fresh loaf of bread and ripping chunks off hungrily. Peeta is bustling around in the kitchen, unusually flustered.

"Do you need help?" I walk over and stand awkwardly by the refrigerator. Peeta pauses, looking up at me from where he is checking a pot on the stove. A warm glow buds in my stomach when he smiles. "Sure. Could you stir this while I cut up some more bread?"

I nod and he hands over a wooden spoon before grabbing a still-hot loaf from the oven and tossing it onto a cutting board. "Doesn't that hurt, Peeta?" I ask.

"The bread? No, I'm used to it," he laughs. "Working at the bakery and all. I've gotten burned far worse."

I flinch at his words, but he turns away before he can see my mixed reaction. He wasn't talking about you, I scold myself. I decide not to start any more conversation as I watch the stew and stir it. Haymitch is watching us intently, his eyes narrowed.

I give him a look. What?

His eyebrow cocks, yet he continues shoving bread in his mouth like he doesn't care.

Peeta places a freshly cut loaf on the table before coming up behind me and leaning over my shoulder. I start at his closeness, but he doesn't seem to notice. "That looks perfect," he says before reaching under my arm to turn off the heat, brushing my waist. A jolt courses through me, unexpected, and it takes all my willpower not to shy away.

"Alright, I think we can take these to the table." He pulls out some bowls from his cabinets, then places his hand over mine, which is still grasping the spoon. I clench my eyes shut at the strange feelings that are churning in my stomach when he does. Dammit, keep it together!

"Katniss? Katniss?"

I realize he's speaking to me. "Uh... yeah?" He looks confused and I notice that his hand had jerked away, leaving my hand cold and gripping the spoon tightly.

"The spoon?"

"Oh! Right," I say. I drop it into his hand quickly before sitting down at the table with Haymitch as he scoops out portions. Haymitch smirks at me knowingly and I struggle to compose myself.

Peeta takes a seat next to me, placing bowls of stew down for everyone. "Alright, dig in. There's even enough for seconds." I can see him glance at me and I know he's thinking about how I haven't been eating well lately. He catches me watching and drops his gaze to the food before beginning to eat.

Dinner progresses without much conversation. Peeta seems like he's stirring his stew more than he's actually eating it and Haymitch is simply sitting back in his chair, his eyes flitting from Peeta's face to mine. Observing.

I do manage to finish my helping of stew and a piece of fresh bread. Peeta clears his throat and says, "If I knew you were coming, I would've put together some cheese buns."

This brings another blush to my cheeks. "Its too much trouble," I respond mildly.

Another awkward silence. Haymitch breaks this one by loudly declaring he needs his alcohol and swaggers out the front door, making sure to snag a loaf of bread on his way out. As the door shuts, I realize that I'm alone with Peeta.

I glance over at him and see that he's gotten up and is spooning me another helping. "There's no need-" I begin, but he places the still-hot serving in front of me.

"You don't have to be shy, Katniss," he says. He's avoiding all eye contact with me. We're quiet as I start in on my second helping, but we end up just pushing the food around mostly.

The silence is irritating, so I decide to start first. "How have you been?" Its a simple question. I'm hoping there isn't just a one-word answer tied to it, however.

He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I've been better," he answers truthfully. I nod, knowing how he feels. He surprises me when he continues, elaborating. "Its been tough, the last month." A sigh escapes his mouth. "The Capitol is so different, but it all feels the same."

The memories. Of course. So I say the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm sorry."

He chuckles and his eyes shine a bit. It gives him a boyish quality. "You're always apologizing. Don't be."

But it all starts tumbling out. And I can't stop it. Because if I do, I don't know what I'll say and then we'll be back to where we started. "I wish I could've stopped them. Or done something. Or somehow made it easier for you. I don't have excuses. And I understand if you hate me for it. But-"

Peeta cuts me off. "Katniss, please stop." I fall silent and he continues. "Let's just keep talking and take things from there, okay?"

I guiltily place my fork on the table. Peeta must take this as a signal that I am leaving. Walking out on him again. And he quickly places his hand over mine. "No. Please. Stay."

I don't want to. I don't want to talk about the Capitol. Or the hijacking. Or anything really. I don't want to trigger him. To bring him pain.

The guilt is back and with Peeta sitting next to me, its hard to fight back my tears, looking at the boy who went through it all and could still be so forgiving and kind. I don't deserve him.

When he moves from his seat to where I am sitting and looks me in the eye, I ask shakily, "Do you forgive me?"

He smiles sadly. Then runs his fingers gently over my hand, sending warm waves up and down my arm.

"There's nothing to forgive."