From the moment Katniss and Peeta volunteered to take watch together, I knew we were in for a romantic scene. These kind of things need buildup and I've been conditioned to notice the signs.

I've noticed something else, too. The chemistry between them this year seems more… lifelike. Not the fake, fluffy stuff that happened last year, but something tangible. Alive. And I'm not quite sure how I feel about it.

Katniss and Peeta sit with their hips and shoulders touching, looking in opposite directions. My son has his eyes on the humming jungle while Katniss watches the gentle waves brush the shore, then retreat. There's an illusion of peacefulness, of solitude as the others sleep. It's the first time they've been really alone with each other since the gong rang out.

Although she's pulled herself together remarkably well, there's still a trembling air of fear around Katniss that I know has to do with the jabberjay attack. Peeta keeps taking concerned glances at her. She makes a decision and rests her head on his shoulder, letting him run his hands through her tangled, acid-burned hair. I feel a shiver of electricity run through me as I look at Peeta's face. There's a deep sadness there because he understands Katniss only needs him when she's broken down, yet I know his hands will be there for her every time.

"Katniss," he says gently after a while. "There's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do."

A shadow crosses her face, but she stays quiet.

"I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promised as well," my son continues in his simple, solemn way. "So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us."

Lies. Deceit. The foundation of the Games. Yet, it seems their mentor has been weaving some of these tangled webs himself. Peeta's saying he made two deals. To promises to save another. Only one can be carried out, so the question remains: which promise does Haymitch intend to follow through with, if any?

Katniss lifts her head off Peeta's shoulder and looks him straight in the eye. "Why are you saying this now?"

"Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are," my son replies. "If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again."

In that moment, I know he's speaking from the depths of his heart, trying desperately to convey his feelings to her that he's harbored for so long. Not for the Games, not for the audience. This is how Peeta really feels. He wouldn't be happy, I know. I got a taste of that when he first came home and discovered she'd spun the whole romance. Peeta needs Katniss. Period. Perhaps more than ever now that they've been through the Games. She's his lifeline, his reason for being. If she dies in this arena, so will he.

"But-"

He puts a finger to her lips, silencing her. "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."

In his mouth, the words make sense. As he pulls out the necklace that's been around his neck since the Games began, the viewers finally see what it really is. A locket containing the pictures of the people Katniss loves most.

That's why he brought this up now. She still has their screams ringing in her ears. He's appealing to her emotions while her defenses are down because once she builds them back up, there's no hope of getting through again. That explains all the concerned glances and hesitation. He knew it was the perfect time, yet couldn't bring himself to cause her more pain.

As Katniss lets her eyes roam on the faces of Prim, her mother, and Gale, her shoulders sink and her face, if possible, becomes more agonized. Those faces are all it takes to remind her of everything she has to lose. Of everything she could have

"Your family needs you, Katniss." There's definite sadness in Peeta's voice, too. Her family and his picture isn't one of them. He intends to die so she can return to these people. I wonder how the Everdeens are taking this. It's not just sacrifice, it's the ultimate gift. He's giving her a chance.

Katniss is completely engrossed in the photos. They're small, yet capture the perfect snapshots. Her mother and sister laughing alongside Gale. He doesn't smile very often, but my son's found the one picture he is. No more fear. No more grief. He's offering Katniss a life with her family full of joy. All she has to do is let him die.

Peeta's watching her face, looking for any sign of understanding. "No one really needs me," he says simply.

That's also truly how he feels. Maybe not in the books or numbers, but he brings something to the family. A light. We do need him, but there's no point in wallowing in the loss. We won't get him back. I knew it before, but now I'm positive. His words are heart-wrenching, beautiful, and true to their bitter cores. If he came home, it wouldn't be Peeta. His spirit will die with Katniss.

But Katniss seems to be thinking along the same lines. It might just be leftover anguish from the jabberyjays, but something new flickers in their stormy depths. Pain. Longing. "I do," she says. "I need you."

This wasn't part of Peeta's plan. He wants to believe her so badly, I can see it in his wounded eyes. That Katniss needs him. That Katniss loves him. It's such an uncharted, terrifying territory - the thought that she might actually have feelings for him, however complicated - so he attempts to go back to where he's comfortable. With words. But Katniss seems to have embraced descending into the unknown because she cuts him off with a kiss.

Not just a light brush of lips, but a hard, hungry connection. One of those embraces you can actually see the sparks fly. A new kind of fear shows up in Peeta's eyes. He resists her efforts at first, still trying to get back to the safe ground of words, but eventually, the pull is too strong. He falls into the kisses with a strange moan of longing. Once he commits, they intensify. It's no longer Katniss and Peeta, but one body, one being, wrapped around each other for dear life. Peeta pulls her in closer, holding her damaged body to his. This is no act. This kiss, right here, is without a doubt real.

Do I think they're in love? I'm not sure. All I know is that this kind of heat can't be generated by scripts and manipulation. Katniss has her eyes shut, reveling in the newness of it all.

The announcers are silent, and the camera isn't going anywhere. The entirety of Panem is holding their breath as they watch this… this… what do you call this? Seconds stretch to minutes which pretend they're hours. The whole time Peeta keeps Katniss as close to him as their bodies will allow. He needs her. She needs him. I almost wish I could draw a curtain, protect them from the harm of the Capitol. This is their moment and theirs alone.

The first crack of the lightning storm is what finally finally slows the kisses. They pull apart like sticky caramel, still halfway wishing it didn't have to end. Katniss stays in Peeta's arms, though, letting the breeze move her sweaty hair off her back. There's fear and craving in my son's face as he holds this girl who he loves. Has always loved. What did they just do? How did a conversation turn, so quickly. I can see him trying to sort through what's for the Games and what's for themselves.

The bolt wakes Finnick as well. He cries out, sitting up as his eyes fly open. Still lost in his nightmare, it takes him a moment to put things together. "I can't sleep anymore," he sighs. "One of you should rest." Then, he gets it. He sees the way Katniss is practically on Peeta's lap. The fervent blush creeping up their cheeks. "Or both of you," he shrugs. "I can watch alone."

"No," Peeta says. "It's too dangerous. I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." He takes her by the hand, helping her to a stand, then leads her gently over to sand where the others slumber. He slips the locket around her neck, resting a hand on her abdomen. "You're going to make a great mother, you know." With one last, soft kiss, he leaves her to sort out the mess of feelings.

The baby. He didn't mention it until now, which seems odd. Surely, if it existed, it should be the first reason why she should live. Which means… it can't be real. There's no way she's actually pregnant if he waited so long to fire that weapon. That's a relief, at least. Or is it? Could I be just a tiny bit sad that I won't have a bit of Peeta surviving with her? That his son won't be here? I won't admit it. I don't know.

"Katniss and Peeta just made out on the beach," my wife says. She's standing in the doorway to the living room instead of sitting beside me. She knows I'm still angry with her for her heartless comment about Wiress.

"Yes," I say, not looking at her.

"In their underclothes."

Alright, that was a little weird. But, they've been wearing them for days now. After their jumpsuits were practically disintegrated by the acid, then washed away by the wave, they had no choice. I guess kissing in them… yeah, probably not the most comfortable thing for the viewers to experience. But still-

"On national television," my wife continues.

Suddenly, the magic of the kiss dies a little. All the things she brought up are true. Half naked and making out on national television - proud parenting moment. I sigh heavily as the euphoria fades away. My wife does know the quickest ways to point out the sadistic nature of the Games.

But not matter what they were wearing or where they were doing it, this was something real. True or false. Promises. Family. And a kiss so powerful it shook the entirety of the Quell, the Capitol, and even Panem. This is what love looks like. Nothing, not death of torture or distance, will ever, ever end it.

But that leaves one question unanswered:

Will Katniss let Peeta die for her?