It was odd, how easy it became to share the lake with Peeta. Maybe it was the fact that the first time I brought him there, we ended up tangled in kisses. Perhaps it was just the fact that I felt like I no longer had any secrets from him, and sharing the lake with him just felt natural in a way. As we reached our normal spot, Peeta pulled the blanket out from under his arm and spread it over the grass. As he did, I kicked off my boots and took of my jacket. Carefully folding it, I set it atop the rock before easing myself down on the blanket and stretching out my legs.

Hazelle gave us hell for bringing the blanket out here, the few times we decided to have a picnic. She complained about the extra time and effort and elbow grease it took to get the grass stains and dirt off of it. It never once stopped us. I think, in all honesty, she was a little disappointed I was sharing the woods with Peeta. It had been mine and Gale's thing for so long, and now it wasn't. Just like that. But if I could get over it, then she would too, even if it took her a little longer. It had certainly taken me long enough.

Peeta pulled a slender, long loaf of bread out of the basket. He'd been secretive about what he had packed, and I was curious to find out why. A loaf of bread was hardly a surprise. When he broke off a portion and handed it to me, I eyed him wearily.

"What?" he laughed when he saw my look.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I accepted the bread. "You put a lot of effort into hiding what was in that basket. I have to say, I'm not that impressed by bread, Peeta."

"Try it," he told me with a gleam in his eye.

With a sound of skepticism, I tore off a piece and flicked it into my mouth. "Holy-" I started, trying to speak around the food still half chewed in my mouth. Freezing my jaw, I looked over to where he sat with a knowing smirk on his face. As if he had expected my reaction. As if he knew how amazing just that first bite alone tasted.

"Where did you learn this?" I asked after I swallowed. I was half tempted to let it dissolve in my mouth instead to prolong the flavor.

"I've been working on a few new recipes of my own. This is the first one that really worked. I wanted to see what you thought."

"I think I like this better than the cheese buns." Leaning toward him, I tried to grab another piece. Predicting my move, Peeta held his arm out behind him, turning away from me to extend it out of my reach.

"No need to get greedy," he taunted, leaning further out of the way as I perched on my knees and bent towards him, reaching still for the bread.

"You cannot just tease me with that little bit and then not deliver, Mellark." My fingers tapped against his lower arm as I leaned further into him still, stretching as far as possible but still not reaching it.

"Are we still talking about the bread?"

Only as I digested his question did I realize our proximity to each other. Only a few inches separated our faces, and even less our extended bodies. My cheeks burned at the insinuation behind his words, because it was the unspoken rule that we did not discuss such things.

Clearing my throat, I returned to my seated position, putting a little more distance between us before I sat back down. Failing to come up with anything else to do with my hands, I rubbed them against the side of my legs.

"I guess we are," Peeta answered for himself, his voice gentler than before. He broke off another section of bread and handed it to me. I had been prepared to devour the entire loaf if he let me, but my hunger was suddenly stipend. Instead, I picked small bites off in silence and chewed thoughtfully.

I hated the uncomfortable silence. The tension was palpable, and our unspoken thoughts hung heavily over us. I kept waiting for him to bring it up, without equivocation. But he stuck to eating his own bread as well.

Leaning back on my elbows, I squinted up at the sky. It was a semi cloudy day, the sky poking out behind clouds before ducking back for cover. A light breeze played with my loose strands, and my hair tickled my ears as it swayed in the wind. In my mind, I heard Gale. 'We could do it, you know'. I hadn't believed him then. Hadn't wanted to. And I knew it wouldn't have been the right decision. But sometimes I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if we had gathered our families and run away. If I hadn't been reaped and thrown together with Peeta. Would I still have felt so confused?

No, I reasoned, because I would have been dead. Tracked down by the Peacekeepers and slaughtered, or captured and had my tongue cut out. Or, better yet, died in the woods trying to survive. As I glanced over at Peeta, just as I had to Gale, I could imagine him saying those same exact words. 'We could do it, you know'. Coming from him, sitting there in the woods, the words would have had a completely different meaning.

"Don't think too hard," was what he said next, as if he knew the internal musings inside my head. "Your brain might explode."

Turning onto my side, I reached blindly into the basket by his elbow. My fingers touched on something round, and I pulled out a clementine. I couldn't even remember picking it, but perhaps one of us had traded for it in town. Digging the nail of my thumb in, I pulled back the orange skin. I tried not to imagine my own skin peeling back in the fire. Sometimes, I wished my brain would explode and save me from these constant struggles.

As I bit into a section of clementine, I offered Peeta one as well. As he leaned toward me, I popped it into his mouth. But as he chewed on his and I chewed on mine, he didn't move away. His knuckles brushed against my thigh from his tilted position, his head near my arm.

His previous question repeated in my mind. I had definitely been talking about the bread, but his comment had me thinking along lines that didn't involve bread at all. And my own mind repeated, in his voice, 'We could do it, you know', and I knew that was true. If I opened up to him, the way he occasionally did to me, it would happen. It was inevitable.

"Peeta." His name was just a whisper, unsure of everything as I tilted my head towards his.

"You should go visit Gale again."

I jerked back as if he'd slapped me. "What?"

"Come on, Katniss. It's obvious that you still have unresolved feelings about him after your trip. And I know it was too soon then, but it's been a few months now. I think you ought to give it another go."

"Peeta." The way I said his name this time carried a completely different tone.

He shifted on the blanket, tilting his head back to get a better look at my face. "Sometimes, when you kiss me, I can't tell if you're kissing me, or if you're kissing him. Or just some idea of me you still have in your head."

Pursing my lips, I pressed them together almost painfully. Why did he have to ruin the moment? Why did he have to bring up Gale? And how could he have possibly known that Gale had been on my mind?

"You spent two years pretending. I don't want to pretend anymore. I can't handle pretending anymore."

A ragged breath escaped me.

"You know I'll wait for you," he told me softly. "Forever, if that's how long it takes. But these little moments, when you let your guard down and I still don't know what you're thinking... as much as I want to, I can't keep doing this. It's messing with my head."

I wanted to give him the answer I knew he wanted to hear. I really did. I could see that hopeful look in his eyes, even though I knew he fought to conceal it. Neither one of us was very good at pretending. Not anymore. And the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. So all I could offer him was, "I'm sorry."

He reached for the fruit and peeled off another slice. Plucking it into his mouth, he spoke around it with a sad sigh, "I know."

And just like that, the uncomfortable silence returned as my heart split in two and sank.