The first few weeks after the Games is a whirlwind of official events we have to attend – parties, banquets, ceremonies, celebrations, it doesn't stop. For almost a month Peeta and I are on camera every day. The only highlight is the first Parcel Day, when the residents of Twelve receive the extra food rations that go to the winning district. It's the most food anyone in the Seam has had since Haymitch won his Games.

Ironically enough, because Peeta and I have to spend so much time pretending to be in love, we don't have any time during that month to actually be in love. We barely see each other when we we're not putting on a show for the cameras. Every day it's the same thing: Prep teams, official events, more prep teams, some kind of ball or banquet or dinner, then we return to our separate homes in the Victor's Village.

The whirlwind schedule may have forced this separation anyway, but part of me blames my mother. She told one of the Capitol interviewers at the train station that she thought I was too young for a boyfriend. Apparently she suddenly decided to try to act like a mother again, but forgot that I'm not eleven anymore. The Capitol people, not realizing that she stopped being my mother five years ago when she abandoned Prim and me, took her opinion as law. So while Haymitch spends each day pushing me to drape myself all over Peeta to sell the love story, at night Effie seems even more bound and determined to enforce what she sees as "proper behavior" now that she has my mother's prohibition backing her up. It makes me want to stab Effie with one of her ridiculously high heels, and makes me even more resistant to my mother's misguided attempts at parenting me.

One night, Peeta and I sneak out together, just for an hour or so, just so we can spend some time together. When we return, we find that Effie has woken half the district to organize search parties and has already called for backup from the Capitol. It's enough to convince us to just wait out the rest of the month. My mother doesn't want to let me leave the house at all after that, and since I can't go hunting or go to the Hob with all of the Capitol people here and I can't go see Peeta with Effie hovering about, I don't even fight her on it.

The whole mess points toward one of the many unanswered questions in our relationship. Mom says I'm too young for a boyfriend; is that what Peeta is, my boyfriend? Somehow that label doesn't feel right, but since I have zero experience with boyfriends and have only been in love with Peeta off-camera for a total of a few hours, I have no way to answer the question. Right now all we are is props by day, estranged neighbors by night.

The separation does serve to reinforce to me how much I really do love Peeta. Sometimes I don't realize how important something is to me until it's taken away, and this turns out to be the case with Peeta. All I want to do is spend time with him alone, just the two of us, and I spend the month counting down the days until Effie and the cameras go back to the Capitol and Peeta and I can be together for real, with only my easily-ignored mother in our way. I still have no idea what that will mean, we haven't even had a chance to discuss it. The only time we get to talk is every so often when we're left to wait together while some event is set up or while some official introduces us, but these moments only last a few minutes and even then we're surrounded by other officials so we can't really talk freely.

As the month wears on, I can feel myself slowly shutting down. I never get a full night's sleep anymore because of nightmares about the Games. I completely lose my appetite, if it wasn't for all of the banquets and dinners we have to attend I wouldn't eat. When I'm home I just feel listless. As much as I hate the filmed events we have to attend, the only time I really feel alive is when I'm with Peeta. Even when most of our time is spent pretending to be Capitol Katniss and Capitol Peeta, there are moments when it's just us. A quick look before stepping out on stage, the spark I feel when we grasp hands, a few seconds while we kiss when the entire world falls away. In these moments we're just Katniss and Peeta, if only for a moment. If it weren't for these moments, I think I would completely break down. I think back to how my mother reacted after my father died, and I find myself becoming more and more sympathetic to her circumstance. The thought disturbs me, especially when I partly blame her for this separation and the effect it's having on me.

Finally, on the day the camera crews go home, on our first day with no big dinner event we have to attend, we decide to have a private dinner for our families. None of us has had much chance to see each other off-camera. Mom invites my newfound cousins the Hawthornes and I invite the Mellarks and Haymitch, who is surprisingly sober for the occasion. The only one missing is Peeta's mother. She was also conspicuously absent from the Victory events. I know her reaction to our relationship bothers Peeta, but he seems more resigned to it than genuinely hurt.

Dinner goes exceedingly well. Other than the first moments I saw my family at the train station, this is easily my favorite night since the Games. Peeta and I revel in not having to put on a show. His father is quiet as always, but seems to be genuinely enjoying himself. His brothers Rye and Barlee seem to be having fun, plenty of it at our expense. It's the first time since we got back that I've seen the Hawthornes relaxed and not trying to fit in at a Capitolized event. We all wear our normal clothes and not Capitol dress shipped in for the occasion; as much as I love Cinna's designs it's nice to feel normal again. Best of all no one talks much about the Games. Everyone seems to be having a good time other than Gale, who is unusually quiet. I wonder if he's uncomfortable around the Mellarks; Gale often has unkind things to say about merchant families, but he's been trading game at the bakery for years so I'd thought he'd be more comfortable with them than he seems to be. A few of us try to bring him into the conversation but he only gives us short responses.

As my mother and Hazelle are handing out second helpings of stew, the discussion turns to our talents. Every Victor is supposed to develop a talent, a hobby to devote time to since they don't have to work anymore.

"I think I'll try art," Peeta says. "I've spent years icing cakes and I aced the camouflage station. How different could smearing paint on a canvas be?"

"Oh, your cakes are always beautiful!" Prim gushes. She and Peeta took an instant liking to each other before we even left the train station. "I'm sure your paintings will be great! What will your talent be, Katniss?"

I think for a moment as I chew my food. "I don't know. Is hunting a talent?"

"No," grumbles Haymitch. "Hunting is a crime."

"Target shooting?" I offer. Haymitch just gives me a look. "Everybody saw me with a bow in the arena. Wouldn't it appeal to the Capitol audience if my official talent was something they saw me do in the Games?"

"There's only one Capitol audience you need to appeal to," Haymitch warns. "Don't give him an excuse to come down hard on you."

"What was your talent, Haymitch?" Peeta asks.

"Drinking," he grumbles again.

"You should sing, Katniss," suggests Peeta's father. "You have a beautiful singing voice."

I'm a bit taken aback by his comment. "Mr. Mellark, when have you heard me sing?"

Mr. Mellark opens his mouth to respond, but before he can Peeta gently takes my hand and quietly says, "Rue." I try to reply but I only manage to croak a bit. I close my eyes and take several deep breaths to compose myself. Peeta gives me a quick kiss on the temple and tells me it's all right, that I'm safe now. He's the only one who can tell me that and I believe them. I open my eyes and turn to kiss him again before turning back toward everyone else. "Sorry," I stammer out, "Sometimes I forget that everyone saw all of that."

"I'm sorry I mentioned it," Mr. Mellark says to me.

"No, it's not your fault," I tell him. "It's just that Rue's death really gets to me sometimes." I take a drink of water, and decide to try to return to the topic. "But I don't want to sing for my talent. It's too personal for me. I sang with my father, and ever since he died I only sing occasionally. Only for people I love. Not for the entertainment of the Capitol."

"You gotta do something, Sweetheart," Haymitch says. "How about cooking? I could use someone to make meals for me."

My mother is giving Haymitch a dirty look because she thinks he's being insensitive to my emotional breakdown, but I recognize his strategy. My anger at him just hauled me out of the abyss of despair I was falling into and back to reality. Still, I scowl at him, because that's how we are.

"You like spending time in the meadow. How about… flower arranging?" Prim suggests, though even she can't keep a straight face at the suggestion.

"You could play the flute," suggests Rye with a wicked smirk.

"Try art with me," Peeta suggests.

"Oh, no!" I say. "I have no artistic ability whatsoever. I don't want to ruin your talent just because I have nothing to do."

"Come on, it'll be fun," Peeta says, reaching out to palm the side of my head and rubbing my cheek with his thumb, and it's everything I can do to keep my eyes open and not moan audibly. If anybody had tried to tell me a month and a half ago that I would be reacting to someone's touch this way, I probably would have tried to shoot them. "We can do it together," he adds softly, looking deep into my eyes. "This is supposed to be the thing we spend our time on now. Let's do it together."

"Okay," I find myself saying as a huge grin splits my face. After the past month, the thought of doing anything together with Peeta is too appealing to pass up. "I'd like that."

"If worst comes to worst," Peeta says with a mischievous grin, "We'll just display all of my work and say we collaborated."

I laugh with everyone else. "I might smack you for saying that, if I didn't think it would actually come to that!" I say as everyone laughs again.

That's when I notice, everyone is laughing but Gale. He's alternating his stare between his plate and me before he abruptly stands, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I'm, uh, just going to get some air," he says, and walks quickly out the back door.

Nobody says anything, merely looking at each other silently. Finally I stand. "I'll go get him." Peeta starts to stand with me, but I put my hand on his shoulder. "Just, give us a few minutes?" I ask. He nods, takes my hand from his shoulder and kisses it. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze before I let go and go looking for Gale.

I find him towards the back of the yard, facing the woods behind the Victor's Village. I walk out towards him but he doesn't acknowledge me. Finally I call out his name.

He flinches when I speak, and spins around to face me. The anger on his face surprises me. "What's going on between you and Mellark?" he demands. "Is this all for real?"

I answer as honestly as I can. "It didn't start out that way, but yes, it's for real."

Gale just glares at me. "Somehow I find that real hard to believe. The last time we talked you were insisting to me how you were never going to have a relationship and never get married. How do you go from that to happily ever after in a few weeks?"

I don't want to get into an argument with Gale, but the accusation in his tone is irritating me. "In case you hadn't noticed, I just went through the single most transformative experience in my life. Nothing in my life is the same after going through the Games."

"Catnip, don't let them change you. You went, you came home, you can just put all of that behind you now."

I shake my head. "No, Gale, you don't understand. I'll never be able to put it behind me."

"What don't I understand? Explain it to me."

"There's nothing to explain, Gale. Nobody who hasn't been in the Games can possibly understand them." How could I explain to Gale the terrors I experienced in the arena? The terrors I continue to experience in my dreams? The constant threat Peeta and I now live under? I can't. Gale looks like he wants to argue this point, so I continue before he can speak. "You want to know the two biggest misconceptions that you're operating under? One, that the winners of the Games are the lucky ones. That the winners are even winners. And two, that the Games end when you leave the arena."

Gale's face twists in anger and frustration. "So what are you saying? That the Capitol is forcing you into a relationship with Mellark?"

"No! Well, they would be if I wasn't already in one." Wait, what the hell am I saying? How is that explanation going to cut through Gale's anger when it didn't even make sense in my head?

Sure enough… "What does that even mean! You're dating him to stop the Capitol from forcing you to date him?"

I just shake my head. We're arguing in circles, and I'm not even sure why we're arguing. "Gale, why does my relationship with Peeta bother you so much? I just survived the Hunger Games. Why can't my best friend just be happy for me? Where is all of this anger coming from?"

Gale takes a step towards me. If this were two months ago and we were in the woods stalking prey I wouldn't give his proximity a second thought, but standing here, now, talking about Peeta, suddenly Gale feels uncomfortably close. When he speaks the anger has left his voice. "Because I didn't want you to come home with him. I wanted you to come home to me."

It takes me a moment to realize exactly what Gale is implying, and in that time he closes the distance between us, grabs me by the shoulders, and he kisses me.

I'm so completely taken by surprise that I don't respond at all for a moment. Gale's lips are on mine, and it feels… nothing at all like when Peeta and I kiss. Gale's kiss is demanding, where Peeta's are inviting. Peeta's kisses ignite a fire inside me; right now all I feel is a cold dread in the pit of my stomach.

It isn't until I feel his tongue probing my lips that my brain catches up to the world and I realize Gale is kissing me. I suddenly remember I can move and I shove him off of me with all the strength I can muster. He stumbles back several steps, looking at me in shock.

Now it's my turn to be angry. "What the hell, Gale? Where did that come from? What made you think you could do that? Just grab me and…" I can't even finish the sentence, I don't want to say what just happened. I settle for, "Don't ever do that to me again!"

"Come on, Catnip! You don't belong with some soft merchant. Someone who's never had to struggle. Never missed a meal. We belong together, you and me!"

At this point I'm completely fed up with Gale, and I don't try to hide it. "What is it, something in the water? Are you telling me that you're just like Peeta was, having feelings for me but too chicken to say anything? We spent every day together! Practically everyone thought we were already dating anyway! If you really felt that way about me, why didn't you say something before I fell in love with someone else?"

Gale opens his mouth to respond before choking off whatever he was about to say and closing it again. I'm not sure what I said that has affected him until he finally speaks, the anger gone from his voice. "You really love him?"

My heart breaks a little to hear the pain and disappointment in Gale's voice, because I don't want to hurt my best friend this way. But he needs to hear the truth. "Yes, I really do love him."

He looks away from me then, staring off into the woods again. "You always said you were never going to be in a relationship, you were never going to get married. I thought, I had time. I thought there was no reason to rush anything, there was no reason to push you. I thought we were best friends, we'd always be together, and someday when you started to rethink love and marriage and children, I'd be there waiting for you."

Gale's revelation leaves me completely bewildered. I've known him since I was twelve. "We're friends, Gale."

"Yeah, we're friends," he says, staring at his feet, sounding sadder than I've ever heard him. "We were friends and that was great, until it wasn't. I don't remember exactly when I started feeling differently. But I remember one day in the Hob, right after New Year's. We were eating some slop of Greasy Sae's, not up to her usual standards but it was the middle of winter and game was scarce. Darius was playing with your braid, teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized… I minded." He looks up at me briefly before returning his gaze to the ground. "I didn't want him playing with your hair. I didn't want him kissing you. I wanted that to be me."

I want to reach out to him, to comfort him, but after the kiss I don't think physical contact is a good idea. Instead I just say, "I'm sorry, Gale. I never meant to hurt you. You're my best friend, you're like my brother. But that's all you are to me."

"And that's all I'll ever be?" he asks dejectedly. I take the question as rhetorical and simply wait for Gale to continue. "What made you change your mind?" he asks me after a moment. "The last time we talked, on Reaping Day, you were so dead set against this. For years you wouldn't even consider the idea. What changed?"

"I fell in love," I tell him, because I don't have any better answer. Gale just looks confused and frustrated. "I never decided that I wanted to love someone. I just suddenly found that I did."

"Just answer me this," he says, finally looking back at me. "If there was no Peeta, if you came home from the Games by yourself, could we have been together?"

"I don't know. I changed so much in the Games, not just because of Peeta. Being in the Games changes everything about a person. I don't know." I pause for a moment. "Maybe if Prim had never been reaped, if I had never been in the Games, if we had just gone on with our lives and nothing changed, then we might have ended up together. I don't know. But I don't think I would have ever felt about you the way I feel about Peeta. I've never felt for anyone the way I feel for Peeta."

"You really care about him that much?"

"Gale, do you know what we did on our last night before coming home?" I can tell immediately from the way Gale's face darkens what he thinks we did that night. "No, not that! We were on the train, our first real day outside of the Capitol, and we spent the night sitting up alone in the lounge car, having a long conversation about my feelings."

Gale is a bit stunned to hear this. "You? Had a long conversation? About your feelings?"

"Yes. I was trying to sort out how I really felt from how I had acted just for the Games, so we sat down together and spent the night talking about it. We talked about how I felt about Peeta. How I felt about you. How Peeta felt about me. How I felt about my father, about his death, about my mother's reaction. How I felt about love, about marriage, about children. And we went through everything that happened in the arena and explained to each other exactly what we were each really thinking and feeling at each step along the way, what was real and what was a play for the Games, and how we each felt about the other's actions and feelings. We were up almost till sunrise talking about how we felt about each other, and that was when I finally had to admit to myself that I really do love Peeta."

Gale just stares at me. It takes him almost a full minute to formulate a response. That one conversation with Peeta might have been longer than every conversation Gale and I have ever had, and it communicated things I would never even consider sharing with Gale. And we both know it.

Finally, he asks me, "Does he make you happy, Catnip?"

I don't even need to think before answering. "More than I ever thought I could be."

His shoulders slump, and he throws out a dejected, "Well, I can't compete with that." Then he turns and starts walking around to the front of the house.

"Gale!" I call after him. "Gale, I'm not trying to chase you away. Come back inside and finish dinner."

He stops, but he doesn't turn around. "I'm sorry, but I just need some time. I need some time to think, some time to adjust. I've spent so much time thinking about our future together-" Gale cuts himself off, unable to continue for a moment. "I don't hate you," he finally says. "If you're as happy with him as you say you are then I'm honestly happy for you. But I just can't do this tonight."

"Gale-"

"Good night, Catnip." With that he disappears around the corner of the house, headed around front towards the road back to town.

I don't chase after him, I don't see the point. But I don't feel ready to go back inside and face everyone yet either, so I head back over to the porch and just sit there for a while.

I try to wrap my mind around everything that just happened. Gale has feelings for me. Gale thinks my relationship with Peeta is fake. Gale wants me to dump Peeta for him. Gale kissed me.

Gale kissed me. Gale kissed me and- well, I didn't let him, exactly, but I didn't stop him either. Not until-

How long did I stand there like a statue and let him kiss me? Seconds? Minutes? Surely not minutes?

What will Peeta say when he finds out? I briefly consider trying to hide this from him, but immediately reject the idea. We just spent a month acting for the cameras. And after seeing the hurt on his face at that fuel depot, I don't ever want to lie to Peeta again.

But what will he think when he finds out about this? Will he blame me? I didn't mean to kiss Gale, but I let it happen. Sort of. Could I have done more to prevent it? Could I have fought him off sooner? Should I have seen it coming? Everyone in Twelve - including Peeta! - assumed there was already something romantic going on between Gale and me, after all.

Would this constitute cheating? Have I cheated on Peeta? It's not like Gale and I slept together, but kissing another man is still considered cheating, right? Then again, were Peeta and I even together to be cheated on? We hadn't even had the chance to discuss it yet!

My mind continues to churn on its own as I sit on the porch and stare into the woods for I don't know how long. I don't notice time passing. I don't even notice Peeta coming outside until he sits down beside me and takes my hand in his. "You okay?" he asks.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I know what I have to tell him, but I can't bring myself to do so yet. "I think I just lost my best friend," I say instead.

"Because of me?" Peeta asks, as if he already knows the answer.

"Because of us. Partly. And partly because of the Games."

"How so?"

I want to look at Peeta, to hold onto him and curl myself into his body the way I did those nights in the cave. But I think if I look at him I'll lose whatever nerve I have to speak, so I continue to stare out into the woods. "Gale and I became close because we had so much in common. We could easily relate to each other. We both lost our fathers. We both hunted to support our families. We both took care of our younger siblings. But now I feel like we've lost that closeness, because no matter what happens he'll never understand what it was like in the Games."

Peeta is silent for a moment. "So you're saying I'm not competing with Gale, I'm competing with Haymitch?"

This gets a real laugh out of me, but I stop short when I realize I have to tell him. "Peeta, Gale kissed me."

I can feel Peeta's hand tense for a moment, but he doesn't say anything, so I continue. "Turns out he had… feelings for me after all. He was trying to convince me to be with him and not with you, and I was trying to let him down easy. He thought I was letting the Capitol force us together, and I was trying to explain that he had it all wrong, when he just grabbed me and kissed me."

"What did you do?" Peeta asks carefully.

"I didn't do anything at first. I was just kind of stunned. Then when I got my wits together and realized he was still kissing me I shoved him away from me and told him not to do it again."

"And that's it?" he asks cautiously.

I shrug. "We talked for a little while longer and then he left."

"If that's all it was, why are you telling me this like it's your deepest, darkest confession?"

I let out a deep breath. "Because I love you and I let another man kiss me. Because you thought there was something between me and Gale and I told you there wasn't and apparently I was wrong about that. Because I lied to you in the arena and I just spent a month pretending in front of the cameras and I never want to lie to you about anything again. Because I love you and I trust you and I always want to tell you everything."

Peeta doesn't say anything just then. He lets go of my hand and pulls away, giving me just an instant to panic that he's about to leave me before I feel his arm wrap around my waist. Peeta pulls me tightly to his side and buries a kiss in my hair; I sigh in relief and contentment and lay my head down on his shoulder. "I love you, Katniss," he whispers into my hair. "That's not going to change because of anything Gale does."

His words fill me with warmth even as the feel of his soft breath sends shivers down my spine. I choke out a sound that might be a laugh and might be a sob. "I know I'm new to this whole relationship thing, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not supposed to be kissing other guys."

"Well, did you kiss him or did he kiss you?" he asks me, but his voice is sweet and tender, with none of the tension or caution it contained earlier. His voice sets me at ease enough that I can answer his question.

"He kissed me."

"And when he did, did you kiss him back? Or did you go slack with shock that such a ridiculous thing was happening?"

I can't help but smile at Peeta's characterization of my reaction. "The latter," I tell him.

I can hear the smile in Peeta's voice as he continues his questioning. "And then, did you tell him, 'Oh Gale, your sweet lips feel so good on me!'" he says in a ridiculous high-pitched voice that makes me laugh out loud. "Or did you shove him away from you like you'd just as soon kiss something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe?"

"The latter," I repeat around more laughter.

Peeta turns and kisses me on the top of my head again. "You didn't do anything wrong, Katniss. You can't control what Gale does."

I really want to stop talking and let this conversation end. This is exhausting, explaining myself and putting myself out there like that. But I decided on the train that I would open myself up, that I would share my thoughts with Peeta. Didn't I just say that I want to tell him everything? So instead of closing myself off and letting the conversation peter out, I force myself to voice the real fear that's been motivating me this entire time. "I just don't want to screw this up. I've never done anything like this before, and I'm…" I have to stop and swallow my nerve. Peeta just holds me and waits for me to continue. "I'm afraid, Peeta. I'm used to sticking to what I know, to what's familiar. I could never afford to take chances so I never took any. But now I'm doing something I've never done before, and I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm just afraid I'll screw it all up and wind up pushing you away. I'm afraid you'll get tired of waiting for me to figure things out and leave."

"I'll never do that," Peeta says harshly.

"You already did, once."

I don't mean that to sound accusatory, but as I feel Peeta's whole body stiffen next to me I can't imagine how else it might sound. "You're right," he says after a moment. I can almost feel him searching for words; when he's speaking to all of Panem he's as relaxed as can be, but somehow when it's just the two of us words elude him. I guess that's why he avoided me for a decade.

"You're right," he repeats. "I almost made the worst mistake of my life. But you stopped me. You didn't screw anything up, you stopped me from screwing everything up."

"I pushed you away," I say.

"No," Peeta says forcefully, "my own insecurities pushed me away."

I shake my head. It amazes me sometimes the lengths Peeta will go to to avoid placing blame on me, where it belongs. "I pushed you away, Peeta. I let you believe one lie after another, and I pushed you away."

Peeta only tightens his hold on me. "I thought we went over this on the train, remember? Nothing that happened in the Capitol is your fault. And you didn't push me away and you didn't let me believe anything. You stopped me and wouldn't let me walk away and made me listen until we had both explained things to each other. That's what you did. Just like in the arena, I tried to give up but you wouldn't let me. I'd have to be twelve times the idiot that I am to walk away from you after all of that."

"Losing people is all I've ever known," I say after a moment. Part of me is still surprised that I'm talking at all, that somehow I'm baring my soul to this boy who I spoke with for the first time only two months ago. But I already know the awful consequences of keeping secrets from him, and I'm not willing to risk it again. So I go ahead and bare my soul to my boy with the bread. "My father was my whole world, and I lost him. My mother was all I had left, and for all intents and purposes I lost her too. I dedicated my whole life to protecting Prim, and then watched her get reaped. My closest friend just walked out on me because he wants more from me than I'm willing to give him. And I almost lost the only man I've ever loved because I made him think it wasn't real."

Peeta hugs me close once again. "As usual, you don't give yourself nearly enough credit. I know losing your father was horrible, I can't even imagine what that must be like, but look at what you've done since then. You're so incredibly strong and brave I can't even express it." I want to respond, to protest, but the comfort of Peeta's embrace is too tempting, and instead I find myself staying silent and trying to pull myself even closer to him as he continues speaking. "Instead of thinking about everything you've lost, think about what you still have. Your mother was gone for a while, but look at her now, she's in there discussing skin salves with Hazelle and talking to my father about the old days, and I know she still cares about you even if she doesn't quite know how to show it. Prim is perfectly safe, thanks to you, you saved her from starvation and you practically raised her yourself and you saved her again at the reaping. Gale might need some time to cool down, but he'll come around. And you're not getting rid of me that easily, I'm staying right by your side until you tell me not to."

"That will never happen," I tell him emphatically.

"Then I'll always stay with you."

I finally work up the courage to turn and face him. His eyes are brimming with too many emotions to count: love, sorrow, concern, hope, but above all, a deep and abiding sincerity. I wonder how I ever doubted him during the Games; as smoothly as he charms strangers and audiences, when he turns those blue eyes on me I can see nothing but honesty in them. It's not that I can see in his eyes when he's lying to me; rather, I can see in his eyes that he never would. I pull him down towards me and capture his lips in a searing kiss. When we separate, I look straight into his eyes, once again overwhelmed by the depth of emotion shining from those blue orbs. "I love you. Don't ever leave me."

He looks straight back at me, and though I can see that a million different responses are on the tip of his tongue, he tells me exactly what I need to hear right now. "I love you. I'll never leave you."

We share more kisses as I gradually melt into Peeta's embrace. As someone wholly inexperienced with kissing until recently, I'm fascinated by the range of different kisses we can share. Some are fiery and passionate, some are desperate and needy, some are soft and gentle. But whether it's a kiss that leaves my lips bruised or a kiss so soft I can barely feel it, every one clearly communicates how much we love each other, how much we need each other, and every one leaves me wanting more. What form that more will take I'm not quite ready to explore yet, but I know we can both feel it coming.

Eventually I give Peeta one last peck, and rest my head back on his shoulder. He leans his head over against the top of mine and we settle in together. We sit like that for a long time, interrupted only when Peeta kisses my head again or I try to snuggle up a bit closer to him, the two of us enjoying the comfortable silence and sharing the peaceful night.

I can't help but try to soak up this feeling, this comfortable, relaxed togetherness. After so long spent either trying way too hard or being forcibly separated, sitting here, leaning on each other, holding each other, just being with each other, feels like a stolen luxury.

"This is nice," I finally say after a long while. "Just… being with you. For real. I missed you."

Peeta kisses my head again. "I missed you too," he whispers into my hair. I snuggle a little closer to him.

Eventually we're interrupted by the sound of the door opening. I look up to see my mother looking down at us, a look of concern on her face. Can she tell somehow that we were sucking each other's faces off earlier? Are we that obvious? "We're getting ready for dessert, the Mellarks brought a cake," she says.

"Okay, we'll be right there," I say. She looks like she wants to say more but she simply goes back inside, Peeta and I following a moment later. Everybody looks at us expectantly when we re-enter the room. I wish I knew how long we'd been gone. "Um, sorry, about disappearing like that," I stammer out. Then I see Hazelle looking at me. "Gale decided to leave-" I stop abruptly when I realize I have nothing else to add to that.

Luckily, Hazelle just smiles and nods her head. "It's okay, dear. I thought that might happen." She doesn't elaborate. I want to talk to her further, but not in front of everybody, so I just sit quietly as my mother and Peeta's father serve cake. The jovial mood from earlier in the evening has been lost.

…..

So that's the big Gale showdown. Or is it only the first big Gale showdown? We shall see!

I'm trying very hard with this story not to fall into the trap of writing Gale as simply the Everlark antagonist. I'm not sure how successful I'll be, because there are certain roles I need him to fill as the story goes on, but hopefully I'll manage to avoid making him a moustache-twirling villain on the level of Snow or Coin.

Next chapter: Fighting the nightmares, and an awkward breakfast.

Preview quote from Chapter 3:

"Have you given any thought to… precautions?"