My second favorite chapter hehe, I am also caught up finally, so every chapter I have edited is now uploaded. Posting will probably be slower unless I get my butt moving on it. Plz enjoy and comment, like, follow 3 means the world to me!

I do not own THG

Chapter 12

I watched Haymitch waddle and stumble his way out of Katniss's door, and a snide thought popped into my head—how long until he ended up my patient again? Shaking it off, I got up from the table, putting back the chairs and tidying up. Katniss and I worked in sync, packing leftovers into the Tupperware she now miraculously owned, her washing, me drying. The conversation from earlier lingered in my mind, but the silence between us seemed comfortable, almost like she'd forgotten about it.

That quiet broke when Katniss let go of a cup too soon, and I fumbled, catching it mid-air—except it was still full of soapy water. The momentum flung the water out of the cup, and the splash hit me square in the chest. Katniss covered her mouth, failing to hide her laughter.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry," she said between giggles, clearly not sorry at all.

I sighed dramatically, wringing out my drenched shirt over her sink. "No, you're not," I said with a smile, watching her try to contain her amusement. We finished up, but by then, my shirt was completely soaked, sticking to my stomach in the most annoying way.

"Oh, come on," I groaned, lifting my shirt just enough to dry off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katniss glance at me, and my face immediately flushed. I quickly pulled my shirt back down, realizing how late it was—but I didn't want to leave. We still hadn't talked.

Glancing around the kitchen, I spotted something. An idea formed.

"Do you mind if I look in the pantry?" I asked point to it with my thumb. She shrugs and nods towards it.

"Go for it, don't be surprised when you find it's practically barren."

I opened the pantry, glancing inside. For someone who claimed it was barren, there was actually quite a lot in here. Everything was unopened and sealed tight. I grabbed flour, baking soda, sugar, brown sugar, and vanilla from the shelves, then snagged a cup of butter from the fridge. After a quick glance back at the pantry, I spotted chocolate chips, some nuts, and—of all things—a bag of salted chips. Perfect. Finally, I reached for a couple of eggs from the counter.

As I gathered the ingredients, a thought crossed my mind. There's no way Katniss bought any of this stuff. The dust on top of the bags told me these were here long before our trip to District 13. Maybe Prim had a sweet tooth, too. I tasted a bit of each ingredient to make sure they were still good—stale, maybe, but not bad.

Katniss was perched on a stool, watching me with curiosity as I moved around the kitchen. I caught her eye and motioned for her to come closer.

"Come here," I said gently, and she furrowed her brows but wandered over, a bit hesitant. "I'm going to teach you how to make cookies."

She let out a laugh, glancing at the ingredients I'd laid out. "Funny. Prim bought all this stuff with the same idea, but I never…" her voice trailed off, and I slipped my arm around her shoulder.

"Let's make some for her then, yeah?" I smiled, giving her a squeeze. Katniss offered a sad smile in return, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She reached into the bag of chips, pulling one out and crunching on it as she looked at me.

"You needed a snack to make cookies?" she asked with her mouth full. I snatched the bag from her, reached in and pulled one out and handed it to her.

"These, little lady, are for the cookies, but you can have that one," I say teasingly scolding her. She smiles and eats her other chip, licking her fingers. My eyes flicker to her lips and back to her eyes.

I tossed all the ingredients into a bowl and began whisking, thankful that my arms were stronger now than they used to be. Still, it didn't take long before my muscles started to ache—whisking by hand was no joke, and I was pretty sure Katniss didn't own a mixer like I did. I could feel her watching me closely, almost eager to jump in, so I handed her the bowl and whisk.

"Here. Your turn," I said, pressing the utensils into her hands. Her eyes widened, and she started whisking, but way too slow.

"No, not like that," I chuckled, reaching around her to grab the whisk. "Like this." I demonstrated how to pick up the pace, and she gave it another shot, determined. After a few moments, though, I could tell her arm was getting tired. She tried to hide it, rolling her shoulder and turning slightly away from me, but I noticed when she slowed down again.

"Not so easy, huh?" I teased, holding my hands out to take over. I whisked a bit more before nodding her over. "Now, you can dump in the chocolate and everything else."

She reached for the bowls of chocolate chips, nuts, and chips, but couldn't quite get to them, so I stepped back, letting her move in front of me. As she leaned over to grab the bowls, I hovered over her shoulder, watching her pour everything in and give it another mix.

"How do we turn this blob into cookies?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at me. I didn't realize how close I was until that moment. My throat tightened, and suddenly I forgot how to speak, staring into her silver eyes. There was a flicker of excitement there, something that caught me off guard.

"Well," I said, shifting slightly and resting my arm on the counter, effectively trapping her between me and the countertop. She let out a soft gasp, a blush creeping up her cheeks as I reached for a spoon next to her. "We just scoop up a bit, roll it into a ball, and let the oven do the rest."

She nodded, her eyes flicking between me and the bowl. Without a word, she swiped her finger through the batter and lifted it to her lips, tasting it.

"Ew, Katniss, there's raw egg in there!" I shouted, quickly pulling her hand down and wiping her finger clean. She giggled, pulling her hand back, clearly unbothered.

"I've eaten worse, I can promise you," she said matter-of-factly.

I laughed, shaking my head, as I scooped a few blobs of dough onto the tray, showing her how big they should be. She took over, and I found myself watching her hands, trying to focus on the task instead of what I knew was coming.

"Who taught you how to make these?" she asked, her voice light and curious.

That question hit me harder than it should've. I hadn't talked about my dad specifaically to anyone in years, not without crying, and the last thing I wanted was to break down in front of Katniss. I stared down at my hands, fidgeting.

"Uh, my dad did, actually," I managed to get out, the word "dad" feeling strange on my tongue after so long. I could feel her watching me as I looked down at my feet, refusing to meet her gaze.

She made a small 'O' shape with her mouth and hesitated before saying, "I'm sorry. Uh, here—am I doing this right?" She gestured to the tray with her spoon, clearly trying to shift the focus.

I looked over and nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, they look great. Just put them in the oven now, and I'll set a timer." I grabbed the timer from her counter and turned it to 15 minutes. I wasn't sure how hot her oven ran, so I figured I'd start there and adjust if needed.

"What are these called? Chocolate and chip cookies?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

I felt a blush creep up my neck as I mumbled the name, almost embarrassed. "Um… they're called, uh, everything but the kitchen sink cookies."

She raised her eyebrows, holding back a laugh. "That's really cute," she said, giggling as she scraped the last bits of batter from the bowl. The sight of her doing that brought back memories of my dad—how he used to let me have the leftover batter, the way his hands always made the perfect mix.

I swiped a big glob of batter from the bowl and held it out to her. She looked at me, half teasing.

"I thought it was gross?" she said, smirking.

I just stood there with the batter on my fingers, and after a moment, she leaned in, wrapping her lips around my fingers. I inhaled sharply through my nose, watching as she closed her eyes and sucked the batter off. It only lasted a second or two, but it felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, I was thrown back to being a kid again, arguing with my brothers over who got the last of the batter, feeling like the luckiest one when I was chosen. This time, though, it felt… different.

With Katniss, I have never in my life felt so turned on, and I had made her cum a few weeks ago with just her grinding. This was much more intimate, though. How? No idea. Just was. She looked up at me as her mouth left my fingers and she turned to clean up the dishes.

I remembered then that moments like this, and the choices that follow, are what had landed me in this complicated place. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, especially given the fact that my body was betraying me. "Katniss, I think we need to talk about the last time I was here."

She pretended not to hear me, mumbling a soft, "Hm?"

"Katniss—" I tried again, but she cut me off.

"Look, Peeta, I don't know what got into me, okay?" she blurted out. "I was feeling so many things at once, and with you… it was the first time in forever that I felt like I could just be loose and carefree. Probably the first time in my life, actually. I never got to be a teenager—I was too busy trying to survive. I'm sorry, and it won't happen again, I promise."

Her words hit me like a gust of wind, leaving me unsure how to respond. My mouth opened, but no sound came out as I weighed what I wanted to say against the fear of messing it up. Finally, I found my voice.

"I'm not… mad at what we did. I don't want you to think I hated it or anything. But I felt—" I paused, searching for the right words. "I felt used, I guess? You had just poured your heart out to me, talking about Prim, and then suddenly we were… together. It felt like I was just a way for you to escape, a tool to make you feel better. And that didn't sit right with me."

The silence that followed was heavy, like the moment before a storm. I thought she was going to apologize. I was ready to do the same—acknowledge that she was right. She never got to live the life I had. It wasn't fair to fault her for trying to take something for herself when the world had failed her so many times.

I was so, so wrong.

"Are you seriously fucking implying that I said all of that just to guilt you into making me feel better?" Her eyes were wide with hurt, but at that moment, I couldn't find it in me to care about her feelings. I felt completely dismissed, and unlike Katniss, I wasn't going to walk away.

"Yeah, actually, I did fucking think that," I snapped, my voice sharp. The intensity of the situation made the expletive feel necessary. "I've liked you for years, Katniss. Of course I would do anything to make you feel better. But for you to… to be with me, then pull me into your bed, and then throw me out the next morning? That hurt. So, damn right, I felt—and still feel— goddamn used."

I threw the towel I'd been holding onto the counter, my agitation heard in the slap of the towel. Without another word, I stormed into the living room to put on my shoes. The heat in the room was becoming unbearable, and I could feel the familiar tingling in my chest, a sign that I was on the brink of an episode. I didn't want her to see me like that.

She was behind me, her presence palpable, but I refused to turn and look. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. We'd both lost our tempers, our arguments spiraling into selfishness and misunderstandings. The speed of putting on my shoes slowed as I pressed my hands against the back of her couch, my head hanging low. I felt her small hand touch my shoulder, and I immediately tensed up. When I turned around, she met my gaze with a raw intensity.

"I don't regret what we did," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "I just... I don't know how to express what I'm feeling. Ever since you took care of me in the hospital, I've felt this overwhelming need to give back to you. You gave me bread as a child, and then nursed me back to health as an adult. Those acts of kindness saved me when all I wanted was to wither away. But after that first night, something shifted. My heart raced when you came to the door with the strawberries, when you complimented my dinner. I don't know what those feelings mean, nor will I probably ever, but I felt... normal. I wasn't the Mockingjay. I wasn't the Girl on Fire. I wasn't a Rebel. I wasn't a Tribute. I was just… Katniss. I haven't felt that in a long time." Tears slipped down her cheeks, and I gently wiped them away with my thumb. "I want to feel normal again."

I drew in a ragged breath, my heart pounding as I leaned in, unable to restrain myself any longer. I pressed my lips to hers, my hands cradling her face tenderly while my other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She surrendered to the kiss, her head tilting slightly, inviting me to deepen it. My tongue traced her bottom lip, and she moaned softly into my mouth, her fingers clutching at the damp spot on my shirt.

As our tongues met, intertwining and dancing together, I felt a spark of something new, something electric. This kiss was different—infinitely more passionate and real than the one we had shared before. That night had been filled with raw, aching comfort, born of shared pain and sorrow. But this—this was something else entirely. It was the sweet release of a yearning fulfilled, a connection that transcended the hurt and spoke of something deeper, more profound. It was a revelation, a moment of pure, unfiltered passion that made me realize the true depth of what we shared, and my feelings for her were now on full display.

It was as if we both realized this newfound passion at the same time, and her hands found my hair, my back, my arms, pushing herself into me to get more of my kiss. I grabbed her waist and lifted her to straddle me and I carried her as we continued to kiss, never breaking. She pulled back slightly to kiss the corners of my mouth, then the middle again, and pulling my lip with her teeth. I responded with placing my lips to her throat, biting and sucking, kissing a trail to her jaw and back. I wasn't sure where to go, her room might insinuate too much and the couch was where things went wrong last time. I contemplated this which interrupted my flow in kissing her. I pulled back, taking a deep breath like oxygen was the sweetest thing on the planet and she breathed heavily. I felt her slip down and I let her, dropping her to her feet slowly. I held her face and kissed her once more gently before pulling back and looking into her eyes.

"Are we okay?" I ask quietly, pressing my forehead to hers. She continues to breathe heavily, nodding and swallowing once. She returned to her senses when she hears the timer go off. I follow her into the kitchen and she pulls out the tray and places them on the counter.

Katniss reaches for one and I playfully smack her hand away. "They're too hot! You'll burn your mouth to sores! Trust me, take it from the one who's done it plenty of times." I stand behind her and wrap my arms around her middle and press a kiss into her shoulder.

She blushes and leans over them, my arms tightening so she doesn't faceplant, and inhales deeply. I could hear the drool forming in her mouth, so I picked one up. The heat no longer bothers the tips of my fingers from years of burning the tips. I would be surprised if there were any pain receptors left. She glares at me and I laugh, blowing on it to cool down a small section. "Here, bite where I blew on it." She takes the small bite and chews, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and moaning.

"Oh, my God, Peeta, that is absolutely delicious! I think this is definitely one of my favorite things I've ever tasted."

I put all of the cookies on a plate and followed her out to the couch, where we both sit on opposite sides of the couch and put the plate in between us. Katniss grabbed us glasses of milk and we both sipped while we ate our cookies.

It was quiet for a while, but I had a nagging question that I wanted to ask her.

"Katniss, can I ask you a question?" she stares first, her mouth full and she takes a sip of her milk.

"Youre not gonna tell me another 10 plus year confession again, right?" she says with a wince.

I shook my head, a wry chuckle escaping me. "No, but… was all that star-crossed lovers stuff true?" I braced myself for her to hurl her cup at me and tell me to get out, but instead, she sighed deeply, setting the cookie she'd been nibbling on her lap and holding her cup with both hands in front of her.

"It… no, it wasn't true. We did all of that for the cameras. I just wanted to go home, but when they announced there was really only one winner, I was—well, to put it bluntly, I was furious. I felt so stupid for letting them manipulate us into that situation. Keagan and I were both at our breaking points. We decided the berries were our only way out without giving them the victory they wanted. We didn't want to give them something to celebrate or a reason for a victory tour. We were exhausted and fed up with it all. When we got back, we had to maintain the charade; we couldn't let them know it was defiance, not love, that drove our decision."

She took another bite of her cookie, and I saw the distant look in her eyes as she revisited those final moments. "Keagan and I had to keep up the act after that. Snow threatened to kill my family and destroy the district if I didn't convince him. So, we decided to get married. But even that wasn't enough. Despite the whole nation focusing on our wedding, they were still plotting our elimination. When Gale was whipped and they seemed indifferent to who else would die, we knew something far worse was coming. The increased presence of Peacekeepers, the floggings, the executions—it all pointed to something bigger. The night the Quarter Quell's twist was announced, we knew we were powerless. Keagan tried to protect me by claiming I was pregnant and unfit for the games. But Snow was ruthless, and as long as the baby was inside me, there was nothing to truly eliminate, so I was sent in. If I had known that was the last conversation I'd have with Keagan, I would have thanked him for trying, for attempting to keep me safe. He died the next day. I'm sure you saw that.

I nodded and stared hard at her face. Hearing it all from her, hearing her testimony to the terrors she faced, my heart broke for her and for Keagan more than it already had.

"He was, really brave, going through that with you. I didn't know him personally, but, after seeing what he was doing for you, and knowing it was just to keep you safe, I really appreciate him a lot more now," I reached across and held her hand, her tears now flowing freely. I pulled her across to me and she obliged, breaking down completely once she was on my chest. I held her, rocking her and letting her cry, rubbing her back and saying soothing words into her hair as she let it all out. This went on for about an hour, and I could feel her cries soften and turn into small hiccups. I had a selfish thought, that I was glad if there was the choice of him or her, that I am glad she came home. I wished though that where ever Keagan was, that he knew how much she meant to me, and just how appreciative I truly was.

Katniss sighed, pulling back slightly, her nose red and her eyes puffy. Despite the tears and the flush of her face, she still looked beautiful to me. I gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled, hoping to coax a smile from her in return. She didn't, though; instead, she rested her head back on my chest, and I continued to trace soothing patterns on her back.

Gradually, her breathing evened out and grew deeper, a sign that sleep had finally claimed her. I adjusted our position, tucking her snugly into my side as I lay back on the couch. She settled comfortably between the cushion and me, her hand tucked under her chin, looking peaceful at last. I placed a gentle kiss on her head and closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to find me as well.

A quiet whimper and a swift punch to my jaw woke me up, and I immediately realized Katniss was having a nightmare. She was starting to talk in her sleep, which turned into straight up screaming. I tried to hold her arms down which just made it worse, and then she started to scream as if I was actually the one hurting her. Panicked, I crossed my arms across her chest, pinning her arms down.

"Katniss! Jesus, wake up!" I tried yelling over her screams.

"Please! Leave him alone! Please, kill me instead, please! Leave him alone!" she screamed now kicking my legs and the couch to get away from the trap in her dream. A good ole kick to my groin about knocked the wind out of me, but I was still holding her, just with less air in my lungs and probably less children in my balls.

She was dreaming about Keagan, I'm sure. We had talked all night about him, she cried for him, and now she was watching him die over and over again. She continued to punch and kick with all her might.

"Please! Kill me! Leave him- Peeta! No!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Wait, she was dreaming about me? I sat up, forcing her to sit up and I lightly smacked her face.

"Katniss, open your eyes, cmon you need to wake up and open your eyes, I'm right here." I continued this over and over, lightly smacking her face until she finally opened her eyes, coughing and breathing erratically. She looked around in a panic, clutching my shirt and one of my wrists.

"Peeta?" she sounded so small, she burst out into tears and wrapped her arms around my neck. I was as confused as ever but I held on tight, not letting her go until she did first.

"I'm right here, Katniss, I'm okay." I breathed into her hair, relief now pouring that she was done with her night terror and I was done getting hit and kicked the hell out of.

She pulled back and looked at my face, which was red and feeling a bit swollen from her punches, and she held my face with both hands.

"Oh, my God, Peeta. I'm so sorry, let me get ice for you," she threw herself off my lap and ran into the kitchen grabbing a few ice cubes and a towel. She pressed it to my face and I held it there as she stood and took some deep breaths. "I'm… really sorry you had to see, and feel, that. They haven't ever been like that before," she admitted while sitting across from me.

I decided that tap dancing around one another didn't get us anywhere, and I looked at her as she reached to hold the ice for me. "Katniss, were you dreaming about me?"

She blanches and bites her lip, nodding. "They're usually about Pri- my sister, or about Rue, or about Keagan, but… I've never dreamed so vividly about someone dying like that."

I wanted to ask her what she saw, but I don't think she could relive those again. I didn't want to admit that I also had dreams about her, but she pressed anyways.

"Do you ever have dreams? Bad ones?" I nod. "How do you get through it alone?"

I ponder this for a moment, then reach to hold her hand. "My nightmares lately are about losing you, but I'm okay once I know you're safe at home." She accepts this, and leans back on my chest, both of us didn't sleep or talk the rest of the night.