I woke up, sweaty and cold. The nightmares from hours before were still lingering. I had all of the blankets piled on top of me, yet I was still shivering.

I looked at the time and it was already 12. It was too late to hunt, so I stayed in bed. Soon, I heard the front door open and I knew it was Peeta. His footsteps came from the living room, then in the kitchen, then in the closet, and last came pattering up the stairs.

"Katniss?" He called out.

All I could do was groan. My throat was sore and my body ached all over.

"Hello?" He called out again. His footsteps came closer and I heard him open the door. I didn't even bother to turn in my bed and face him. I knew he already knew I was here.

"Hey, Kat? You ok?" His voice was soft. I heard him circle the bed until he was standing in front of me.

"I don't feel good. And don't call me 'Kat'," I whispered. My voice was scratchy and I could only speak quietly. Peeta sat down next to me and put his hand on my forehead.

"You're warm." His face was concerned.

"What exactly is wrong? Is your throat sore, or does your head hurt, or something like that?" His face grew soft and he gently rubbed my back.

"My throat is sore, and my body aches." I complained, pulling my blankets closer and snuggling into them.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"I'm freezing." I replied.

"Ok, I'm going to get a thermometer and some medicine from my house. I'll be back okay." He said. I nodded. Before he stood up, he brushed the hair that had fallen on my face behind my ear. I heard his footsteps go downstairs and out.

It felt like forever, waiting for him to come back with a remedy. But after what felt like an hour, he returned. But he had more than just a thermometer and medicine. He had brought vegetable soup and a cloth with him.

"You brought this for me?" I asked, even through I knew the answer.

"Yup. Who else would I give it to?" He relied.

"That explains why you were gone so long." I said.

"Hey, I was only gone for 15 minutes!" He defended.

"Well, it felt more like an hour." I added.

Peeta took out the thermometer and held it about a centimeter from my forehead. The thermometer was from the Capitol, and it required no contact with your body. This meant that it was much more sanitary than a traditional one.

The thermometer beeped, and Peeta's face fell as read the number.

"You're 102°, Katniss!" He said, clearly concerned.

"What?!" I yelled. I've never been that sick before.

"Here, take some medicine. It will help bring your temperature down." He said as he plopped some pills into my hand. I swallowed them with a gulp of water and then snuggled up to my blankets again.

Peeta took the cloth to the sink and drenched it with cold water. He then placed it on my forehead. Even through I was freezing cold, the cloth felt refreshing. It really seemed to wake me up. After a while, Peeta started reading a book that he found and ordered from the Capitol. It was a classic, one that was written centuries ago. I believe it was called 'To kill a Mockingbird.' The book kept him occupied and I just sat there and rested.

"Are you hungry?" Peeta asked, looking up from his book. By the rumblings coming from his stomach, I could tell that he was ready for a meal.

"Not really," I replied.

"You need to eat something."

"Fine."

He went downstairs to warm up the soup and make lunch for himself. No wonder he was hungry. It was already 2:15!

While he was downstairs, I couldn't help but notice his book. He had left it on the side of the bed where he sat. I picked it up and ran my fingers over the cover. It was made of leather and carefully printed so that each detail was clearly visible.

I hadn't read an actual novel in months. I was just to depressed to read. But now, I felt the sudden urge to do so. I opened the book and started reading. I had read the first chapter when Peeta walked in with our lunch.

"It's a good book, huh." He said.

"It's really good."

"What chapter are you on?"

"I've finished the first one."

"Oh, I'm on the fifth one."

"Just don't spoil it for me."

"Don't worry Kitty, I won't." There he goes again with the nicknames.

"Don't call me that!"

"Oh, you love it."

I glared at him and he smirked. He was slowly starting to become like the real Peeta. The Peeta before the Games scarred him, the Peeta that wasn't tortured.

I smiled at the thought of the old Peeta.

"What?" He asked, his blue eyes meeting mine, his lips forming into a smile.

"Oh, nothing."