It's almost dark outside when I wake up only to find myself on my couch, my body clumsily spread on top of Peeta's. I cringe at the thought of being so close and blush before I look at him. On the other hand, the feeling is really nice. I like this. We could do it more. When I look at him, I see he's well awake and lost in thought.

"I was watching the sunset," he says, grinning when our eyes meet.

"Have you been awake for long? You could have woken me up. I'm embarrassed for keeping you stuck here".

"Just for a while. You seemed so peaceful."

"We slept so much," I say, breathless, "Can you still feel your body after being with a dead weight on top of you for so many hours?"

"You're a tiny little thing," he chuckles.

We haven't moved yet.

"So...," he says.

"So...," I reply.

"I need to pee."

"Oh," I murmur, embarrassed, getting up, "Sorry."

"It's okay."

I go to the kitchen and see what I can prepare. We still have plenty of pastries that will go bad if we don't eat them. Breakfast leftovers - that's going to be our dinner. Peeta agrees with me once he comes from the bathroom.

"It's so cold. I'll light the fireplace," he offers.

None of us likes to light the fireplace, but he usually does it for me. I was badly burnt in the explosion that claimed Prim's life and Peeta has burn scars as well, but I don't know a lot about them. I just know we got them on the same day.

Afterwards, we lie on the rug in front of the fireplace, Peeta lies on his backside with his bad leg slightly flexed, cuddling Buttercup, Prim's cat. I lie on my stomach, my head close to his chest - although not touching each other in any way - and next to a tray full of pastries.

"I've employed some men to clean the rubble of the bakery," he starts, "And to recover my family."

"You did?"

"Yes. They'll start tomorrow."

"I'll go with you if you allow me."

"Thank you, I would appreciate it. I was thinking," he swallows, awkwardly, "Can I stay here tonight? It's okay to refuse. I know it's too soon after last night –"

"Stop it. I want you to stay."

"Okay," he sighs.

A moment of silence follows.

"Peeta, can we play real or not real?"

A grin spreads across his face, "I'd love to."

"Okay, I'll start," I say, "You were the one who took me away from the explosion."

"Real."

"I knew it!" I hug his torso, in part because that's the part of him that's closer to me, and rest my head on his stomach. He cuddles my hair.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. There was nothing I could do for Prim, and the heat –"

"I know. I couldn't save her either. Thank you, Peeta."

I revert to my original position.

"So, my turn," he says, in a breath, "We had sex in the train."

"Not real!" My cheeks are red and I feel slightly offended by the assumption. Seriously, asking this as a first question? It's this the kind of stuff he thinks about? "We never did that!"

"Sorry, Katniss, I just needed to be sure." He looks ashamed now, as he should, "Well, I think I know the answer to this one. You were pregnant during our mission to catch Snow in the Capitol."

"What? Not real at all, Peeta!"

"I figured it already. I thought you were carrying Gale's child at the time," he chuckled.

"Who told you that?" I ask, bemused.

"I was told at the Capitol and then I asked Coin and she confirmed it. No one had bothered to tell me that she wasn't exactly an ally."

"I'm sorry, Peeta. You just were not trustworthy at that time. She wanted you to kill me."

"I know that now," he smiles sadly.

"Why didn't you ask Haymitch? Or Delly? Or even my sister..."

"I figured I couldn't trust them about you. They were too biased. You've got some pretty good defenders, you know."

"You realize how wrong your assumptions were if even Haymitch stood up for me."

Peeta smiles. "True. He's though, but he loves you so much."

I offer him a smile after rolling my eyes.

"You posed two questions in a row, Mellark. It's my turn."

"Bring it on", he replied, mocking fear.

"You are angry about the Initiative."

"Real. I don't know if it's anger, just disappointment."

"You wish you could be paired with someone else," I say, holding my breath.

"Not real. I wouldn't want to be with someone I don't know."

"Okay. But you're disappointed because you're in love with someone."

"Real. You can say so."

"You met her while in Thirteen," I say.

He chuckles, "What? Not real."

"Then you met her at the Capitol."

"Not real," he snorts, "Are you serious?"

I shrug. He doesn't complain that I'm posing too many questions in a row, so I go on.

"You think I'm a piece of work," I murmur.

He hesitates and I start to feel anger. "The answer to that question is not as simple as real or not real."

"Elucidate me, please."

"I was recovering when I said you were a piece of work."

"Just answer it, Peeta Mellark."

"Kinda real? I find it really hard to figure you out. It doesn't deny the fact that I admire you. But I wasn't being exactly myself and you know that."

"I'm not sure I know who you are anymore."

"I'm the same, just a little more confused about what's real or not," he frowns.

"Okay," I murmur. "You still haven't told me what triggers your attacks."

"I - It makes me feel stupid, Katniss."

"But it would help me avoid upsetting you. I know it's something about me."

"I'll make sure to stay away when something triggers me. If you can avoid quick motions or speaking loudly, I think I'll be okay. At least I'm fully convinced you are not a mutt," he jokes. "There's more but I – I'll take care of you until Gale comes back."

What the hell does that mean?

I gulp. He gulps. I don't know why he would say that, but I don't ask. I don't like to talk about Gale and I hope he takes the hint.

"When I saw Annie and Finnick's wedding cake," I say, going back to the safety of the previous subject, "It was so lovely, so full of sweet details. It was definitely yours. I was sure you were yourself again. But I visited you on that night and you were so mean to me."

"I was cross with you. It was though. I spent my days wondering when you would come, but you never did." He looks so vulnerable, and he's right. How can I be more disgusting?

"I was trying to forget."

"I didn't forget you for a second, and I wanted you to feel just a little as bad as I felt," he looks sheepish, but serious at the same time, "I was even angrier because Haymitch had told me that I would lose you to Gale if I didn't try harder to get better. It was wrong of me and I'm sorry." He smiles sadly.

"Haymitch said what? In your state -"

"Tough love. Still, he was kinder than you were."

It's enough for me. I get up and start to walk away. I know he's right and he knows I know it. He laughs under his breath as he catches me from behind. "You know I adore you," he says. My hands pull his arms around me as I melt into his body and feel him relax. "We still have this game to play," he teases boyishly. He holds me for a minute before he plants a small kiss on my cheek. "So beautiful", he murmurs as he lets go of me. This answers what would be my next question, but the whole interaction leaves me confused. If I didn't know better, I could mistake this for flirting.

Panting, we sit on the floor, looking into each other's eyes, pretending nothing has happened.

"My turn," he says in a husky voice and fearful eyes. I brace myself, "You loved me in the Quarter Quell."

"Real," I say, and I can see the shock in his features. He grins widely before an idea seems to cloud his expression.

"But you love Gale now."

"Not real," I say, not wanting to elaborate. I don't want to talk about Gale! Can't he take the hint?

He looks confused.

"But you only accepted to take part in the Initiative because they say Gale is coming back if we make it succeed."

He's asking about Gale again. "Not real. I haven't even considered that." I say it and it's true.

He nods, still looking confused, but there's a hint of a smile.

"Promise you're serious? I was convinced Gale was the main reason you accepted," he says.

"I – I don't want Gale."

An idea seems to linger in his mind. Maybe it's the same idea that's been fleeting through mine, but I don't want to dwell on it.

"So you never kissed Gale after the Quarter Quell." And this time he looks at me with a dazzling smile and eyes full of hope. Hope? Is there a chance for me after all?

"Not real." Shock flashes in his eyes. He got me. He looks sad now, all of a sudden. Even if he loves someone else, he's right to be sad. I know I would be. This makes me look so fickle and inconsistent. I feel the need to hide and die. I'm disgusting.

We sit in silence for about five minutes as he lets the idea sink in. It doesn't seem that he can look at me in the eye. Instead, he's tracing parallel paths with his fingers on the rug. I really should find an excuse to leave and never show up again. What can really happen if I run away from district Twelve - which is forbidden to me? Being shot? I'd take that gladly at this moment. Going to jail? It would still be better than the prospect of facing Peeta every day.

Finally, he speaks.

"When you loved me in the Quell... Was it as a friend only?" Peeta asks in a broken voice. I can't mess this up even more than I have.

"I have considered you my best friend for a long time now. But it was much more than that."

He stays in silence for another minute.

"Somehow that makes it even worse," he whispers, "So... You kissed Gale before... Then you went to the Quell and you say you loved me at that point... But you kissed Gale again after that," he says softly. "And you say you don't love him. I'm confused. What gives?"

A tear runs down my cheek and Peeta cleans it up with his thumb, his hand trembling.

"I don't know what to say," I reply faintly.

"I'm sorry, it's not my place to ask. I think I understand," he sighs and gets up.

"I don't think you understand at all."

"Well, I don't need to understand everything. You have the right to keep your life private -"

"Peeta, stop! I know I'm disgusting!" I yell.

"You're not disgusting, Katniss," he says, unable to face me.

"Don't be noble! I don't deserve your goodness!" I yell even louder.

"Katniss, you're scaring me. Just let it go."

"You don't understand," I say.

"I think I do." He's fidgeting and looking down.

"Do you remember the pearl you gave me during the Quell? It was always with me while I was in Thirteen and then at the Capitol. To me it symbolized you. It was the ONLY thing that kept me from going mad. It was the most precious possession I ever had in my entire life. And I lost it."

"What are you trying to say?" He asks.

"I don't know. I'm a mess, "I hiccup between sobs.

Peeta rushes to the other side of the living room and searches through the pile of unopened letters. Then he selects one of them, rips it open and takes some kind of object from inside the envelope. He throws the letter to the fire.

"Was that the letter you say you sent me?" I ask as I watch the paper burning.

"Yes."

"So I won't get a chance to read it."

"It doesn't matter anymore," he replies, "Here, this is yours" he says, depositing an object with a faint metallic sound on the small table in the middle of the sitting room.

"Try to forget it. We should go to bed anyway," he says, heading to the door.

"Won't you sleep here?" I sob.

"No."

When the door closes behind him, I look at the small table to see what he has put there.

It's my pearl.