Chapter 5

"Oh, Peeta- these are delicious!" Ryn exclaimed, her mouth full and her eyes fluttering shut as she took her first bite with a dramatic sigh of satisfaction. "If you weren't such a good nurse, I'd pay you to be my personal baker."

I leaned on the counter again, my chest to the table and holding on to the edge, trying hard to keep it casual, but she wasn't having it - she saw right through me. She placed her cheese bun on her napkin and crossed her arms over her chest and sucked her top teeth, giving me a knowing look.

"Oh hell no, you think you could come in and sweet talk me into something?"

I mocked her expression and pursed my lips which then broke into a smile. "Well…"

"Peeta, you have 'I-want-more-shifts' written all over your face." Shaking her head she reaches for the cheese bun again. The look in her eyes was more amusement than annoyance.

"I know." I say sitting up and trailing my finger on a crack on the table. I've done this so often while asking for more days that I'm sure im single handedly making it worse. "I just, I need the money. I've been saving up…"

"For… what? Shirts that fit you?" she nags, twirling her finger in the air and nodding at my snug shirt.

I narrowed my eyes at her, smiling, now seeing shes being lighthearted, but shes going to make me work for this request. I did hesitate, realizing that I hadn't thought it through that far. Then it hit me:

"I've been saving up to rebuild the bakery."

Ryn's expression shifted, softening instantly. "You are? Peeta that amazing!" her voice lowered and she put a hand on my face. "Your father would be so, so proud of you." The familiar ache bloomed in my chest at the mention of my dad. My smile faltered, the muscles in my face struggling to hold steady. She noticed, like she always did, and quickly added, "He'd probably also tell you to buy your incredible boss something pretty for putting up with your workaholic ways."

"I'll add it to the budget." I tease.

Ryn opened up her blue scheduler and tossed it onto the counter in front of me and looked back to me. "You better," she teased back at me. Letting out a dramatic sigh she nods to her scheduler. "What days do you want?"

The smell of the basket of cheese buns had traveled to every corner of the unit, and few nurses comically followed the scent to the front where I was with them. It was then that the nurse who was taking care of Katniss today came around the corner and whistling at me as she leaned against the wall, beckoning me to follow her with a nod towards her room.

"What is it?" I asked, her pace a little more urgent than her normal pace. Her black hair was tied in a low pony-tail and it was practically smacking the small of her back. We were making our way to Katniss's room, and my heart started to thud so loud I could hear it in my ears. "Naomi what-" I stopped in my tracks so hard I almost fell over.

"Ta-da!" Naomi exclaimed, her arms up in a triumphant pose towards Katniss.

Katniss was sitting on the edge of her bed – no feeding tube!

"Well hey, look at that!" I said, my voice light and inviting. It felt weird being in my street clothes, not in uniform, so I opted to just leaning against the door frame and shoving my hands in my jean pockets. "How are you feeling?"

Katniss shrugged and a flicker of a smile crossed her lips. "Fine, I guess, I passed that… swallow thing you told me about. So Im ready to eat some real food."

I laughed at this and gently swung the basket cheese buns. Slowly, I crossed the threshold into her room and handed her a cheese bun. She looked up at me with a strange and hesitant look. "What is this?" She said inhaling the smell of it. Her eyes widened and she bit into it, cheese stickingto her lips.

For a second, I had the strangest urge to wipe it away, but I quickly stopped myself. Not your place, Mellark. I scolded myself silently, trying to push the thought aside.

"I remember you made these in 13. They were my favorite," she admitted shyly, taking another bite. She finished it a few minutes later and disappointment in the completion of her treat crossed her face, at least until I pulled my hand from my back and presented her with another one. She clapped like a child and it made my heart soar when she calmed her self and went red with embarrassment.

"That's it for now," I said ruin your appetite or upset your stomach. You just came off the feeding tube, and your body's still getting used to solids."

She kept her gaze locked on mine, chewing slowly, as if daring me to take the bun away. I also noticed a small shift in her body language, a tension that wasn't there until I couldn't stop staring at her. I chuckled, glancing at the floor for a moment before looking back at her to cover up my poor lack of manners and the obvious way I am doting on her. I make my face more serious this time. "Let's get you feeling better, and I'll make you more. Deal?"

Katniss nodded, her mouth too full to answer. There was still a small sense of hesitation, and it was almost like I could hear her brain processing something. I felt the familiar flutter in my chest, a subtle stirring I'd been trying to ignore. I could see she noticed a change in my presence, and I her, and she looked a little more uncomfortable. I kicked myself for staring too long into her eyes, but she made it so hard to look away.

Naomi looked to Katniss's monitor and then down where the foley bag still hung. I felt disappointment creep back in, realizing she wasn't tube free yet. I also knew she hated that thing.

"Well," I started, trying to sound casual, "I'm gonna go on home and make myself some dinner and get some early shut eye. Gotta be up in the morning," I announce, half cockily. Naomi looked up with one eyebrow raised.

"And where are you going in the morning, Peety?" She asked writing down numbers from Katniss's monitor. I pursed my lips at her, realizing she said my infamous nickname right in front of Katniss, who raised her eyebrows at the sound of it.

"I'm working tomorrow. And the next couple of days," I say trying hard to not look at Katniss. I was honestly working for the next week, but I wouldn't tell her that. I was here for her until she leaves, and that was a promise I made to myself but never spoke out loud.

Naomi made a face and rolled her eyes. "Taking my hours aren't you," she joked. At least I think it was a joke. I waved goodbye to Katniss, she returned it with a nod and a thin lipped smile. Trying to make up for my flustered actions, I silently handed her one more cheese bun that I had hiding behind my back. Her smile faltered a little bit but she forced one, taking it from my hand and instead of nibbling on it, she rolled it in her finger tips on her lap. I closed her door and sighed, looking up to the ceiling. Smooth, Mellark.

The next morning, I woke up earlier than planned. It turned out to be a good thing—I hadn't done laundry since my schedule changed, and I was out of clean scrubs. I quickly washed and dried one of my fitted shirts and a pair of scrub pants. The shirt was definitely approved. It hugged my body in all the right ways, showing off muscles I didn't usually care to display. This one felt like a second skin. I glanced over my shoulder in the mirror, flexing my back. I wasn't usually this vain, but today I had a second agenda. Katniss didn't seem like the type to care about someone's physique, but it couldn't hurt to try, right?

I finished my routine faster than expected and realized I was an hour ahead of schedule. With time to spare, I figured I'd make my lunch and maybe—just maybe—offer to eat with Katniss. Was that too forward? Probably. I paused, hesitating mid-sandwich prep, then shook my head. Why was I letting her determine whether or not I ate? Damn, this girl has me wrapped around her finger, I thought, shaking my head at myself.

Between me making then unmaking and then remaking my lunch, me fiddling with my hair which was now actually combed and slicked on the slides and brushed to the side on the top, I had to stop myself from messing it up every 5 minutes, I was able to go into work. When I walked into the unit, something felt… off. The feeling was more somber and I had a tight feeling forming in my chest. I made my way to the assignment and looked for my name, and I did not see it next to Katniss's room number.

"Hey, Flora, who made the assignment?" I asked showing her. She shrugged and just said, "charge nurse". I made a face and walked around the nurses' station, looking for Ryn. She was sitting with someone who's hair was up in a brown messy bun, and I was just about to raise hell when Ryn held up a hand towards me.

"Why don't you explain to him what you're telling me?" Ryn said, gesturing towards me. The person in the chair turned around, her eyes narrowing into a condescending glare. It was Chasity, who quickly shifted into a bright, almost mocking smile.

"Listen, Peety," she began, and I tensed at the use of the nickname I despised. "Katniss sort of requested that you not be her nurse anymore."

My heart sank. "And why is that?" I asked, trying to keep my tone even.

"Katniss sai—" Chasity started, as if she was about to tell a dramatic tale, but Ryn cut her off.

"Katniss," Ryn said, her gaze shifting from Chasity to soften when she looked at me, "said she doesn't feel comfortable with... someone who shows a bit too much affection. Chasity was just passing that message along and is now leaving the room."

Chasity's smile faded, and she glanced between Ryn and me before getting up to leave. As she brushed past, she laid a hand on my arm, a gesture that felt more patronizing than comforting.

"Ryn, what the hell? She was fine yesterday," I said, my voice rising. I knew she wasn't fine. I'd seen the signs of Katniss building walls to protect herself from others' generosity, a defense mechanism I found frustrating.

"Peeta, listen," Ryn said, her voice steady. "You care deeply for your patients—that's a good thing. But after raising three boys, I recognize when someone's got a crush. I see the way your face is turning red." She gave me a sympathetic look. "You know that when we take this oath, we provide care without bias. We just want to ensure your feelings don't interfere with giving Katniss the best care, and that you're not showing favoritism to her or neglecting the other patients. It's about being unbiased."

Her sympathy was evident, and though she didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, she was doing what she believed was best. We're instructed not to care for people we know personally or our family members to avoid letting personal feelings interfere with professional care. Katniss wasn't family, but she was definitely more than just another patient.

I sighed and looked away, feeling foolish for getting so dressed up for her. Ryn assessed me with a knowing look, her stance softening a bit. "So, if I provide just the basics, no extras, no special treatment, can I still work with her?" I asked, running a hand through my hair and ruining my carefully styled look. "I just really want to see her get better."

"Truthfully, Peeta, I don't think that's a good idea. She asked for someone else," Ryn said carefully, clearly trying to soften the blow. "However, you're scheduled to care for Darius today, as a 1:1. He's not doing well, and his family has requested that only one person provide continuous care. Normally, we'd stick to the rule of each nurse handling two patients to keep things fair, but since you're here on overtime, I can make an exception. You can keep an eye on Katniss from a distance, but for today, she'll be under Delly's care."

I could see Ryn's attempt to ease the sting, but the hurt was still palpable. I had tried to be kind, hadn't I? Maybe I'd been too kind, and that had driven her away. Honestly, if I had shown up as I did today—dressed up, fussing over my appearance, and then asked her to lunch? She probably would have requested a transfer to another district's hospital, if that were possible. Katniss was bound to District 12 still for her assassination of Coin.

I told Ryn it was fine and headed to my desk. Delly was already there, sitting in her rolling chair by Cara's room. I gave her a curious look before glancing over at Katniss's room.

"Delly, don't you have her, too?" I asked, using my thumb to point towards Katniss's room, avoiding saying her name. I didn't want to look over either. It felt too raw.

Delly glanced up from her computer, her usual energy a little dimmer. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm split between Cara and Katniss. I heard Darius's family wanted someone in his room 24/7. Like, seriously? How ridiculous," she muttered, her attention already back on the screen. Something was off—Delly never brushed off patients like that, especially not with me.

I watched her closely. "Delly, is Cara okay?" I asked quietly, making sure Cara's mom wasn't around to overhear.

She paused, blinking hard as if willing herself to keep it together, but the glistening in her eyes betrayed her. She gave a tiny shake of her head, refusing to let the tears fall. My heart sank. This wasn't like Delly. She was the strong one, the one who kept things light even when everything around us felt heavy.

I didn't push. I knew her well enough to understand she'd break if I asked more, and if Delly was going to cry, it wasn't going to be in front of me. She'd always been like that—keeping her pain just out of reach until she was ready to let it out, usually with me dragging it out of her.

I sat at my desk, the minutes dragging by. I couldn't bring myself to look into Katniss's room. The last thing I wanted was for her to catch me staring and get even more freaked out than she already was. But Delly was in and out of both rooms, muttering under her breath about all the things she'd never say to Cara's mom but clearly wanted to. Her frustration bled into every movement, her usual calm slipping.

Cara's mother was… well, let's just say complicated. She barely ever visited, and when she did, it was like she was more interested in complaining about the beeping machines or the noise outside than actually spending time with her daughter. It was never pleasant when she came around. Delly had known them for a long time, and even she couldn't make excuses for the woman anymore. This wasn't just a case of a stressed-out parent; this was a mother who only cared when it was convenient for her.

Delly, on the other hand, cared for Cara the way you'd expect a sister would—or maybe even more than that. I think, deep down, she felt like she was a mother figure to Cara, someone who actually looked out for her. That's just how Delly was. When she cared about someone, it wasn't half-hearted. She carried that care like it weighed a ton, always heavy and always true. It made me admire her more, but it also worried me.

I must've dozed off in my chair because when I heard Delly call my name, I jolted awake with that familiar falling sensation. My chin had been resting on my chest, and I blinked around, disoriented for a moment. The first thing I did was glance into Cara's room. Delly wasn't there, but Cara was sound asleep, her blanket pulled up to her cheek, and her mother was gone—no surprise.

"No, Peeta, other room." Delly's voice snapped me back to attention.

I stiffened and made my way into Katniss's room, trying way too hard to look calm and casual, like I wasn't phased by being there. I also tried just as hard to avoid looking directly at Katniss.

"Listen," Delly said quietly, walking up to me and tossing her gloves into the trash. "I need to run a damn blood transfusion in Cara's room. I'm so sick of watching that poor girl go through this." She shook her head, clearly frustrated. "Anyway, there's an order to remove Katniss's Foley. Could you handle it? I already told her I'd take it out, but then Dr. Holden hit me with the transfusion order for Cara, again."

I could see the exhaustion and distress etched on Delly's face, and it hit me how much she was carrying. Now that Cara's mom was gone, Delly would finally be able to care for her without the added stress of dealing with the woman's complaints. You might think it's unfair that the rule about caring for people we know was bent for Delly, but no one else liked handling the pediatric cases. That's why Delly and I always had this corner of the unit to ourselves.

I nodded, letting her know not to worry about it. She gave me a relieved look and hurried out, but I stayed there, staring at the spot where she'd been standing. Finally, I shifted my gaze to Katniss's bed—just her feet were visible. I grabbed a pair of gloves, a towel, and a trash bag, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me. My fingers fumbled a bit as I fixed the gloves, the sweat making it harder to get them on right. Still, I didn't look up at her face, not even once.

"So, Delly told me she'd take care of it, but she feels bad you've been waiting. She asked me to do it instead. Does that bother you?" My voice came out colder than I intended. I didn't look at her, didn't want to see whatever expression she'd wear in response.

I raised her bed up to eye level and asked her to lean back. She moved slowly, her eyes flickering, trying to avoid mine until they finally landed on me. I kept my focus elsewhere, determined not to let her see how much this was bothering me. Best care, but not too much care, I reminded myself, feeling almost foolish that I was overthinking it. This moment—what I was about to do—felt too intimate, too vulnerable.

I sighed, finally letting my gaze fall to her face, and there it was—worry, and something else—her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. My stomach twisted at the sight of her like this. "Hey," I said, my voice softer now, slipping from the indifferent tone I tried to maintain. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. It hit me harder than I expected. I lowered her bed back down, bringing us face to face, resting my arm on the bedrail, trying to steady myself. "What's going on? What's the matter?" My voice softened, genuinely concerned.

Katniss bit her lip, and I forced myself to stay focused on her eyes, not let my mind wander. Her voice came out in a whisper, so quiet I almost didn't catch it. "I'm sorry."

I frowned. "Hm? Why are you sorry?" I asked, leaning in a bit more, instinctively wanting to comfort her. "You're sick, Katniss. There's no need to apologize. We're about to take the catheter out, and you'll be doing more on your own soon. Delly might even be able to walk with you around the hospital later, or tomorrow if you're up for it." I tried to inject some optimism into my voice, but deep down, a sharp sting of jealousy crept in at the thought of Delly seeing her recovery firsthand while I was stuck tending to Darius.

She shook her head, her eyes dropping as she whispered, "No, not that. I'm sorry I asked for someone else."

Her words were a punch to the gut. I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "What?" I leaned back slightly, bracing myself.

Katniss hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "One of the nurses said you… have feelings for me. I couldn't help but feel frustrated knowing that, knowing you touched me when…" She trailed off, her words laced with uncertainty, discomfort.

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my face, instantly knowing who'd said it. Chasity. Of course. I should've seen this coming, but it didn't make the frustration bubbling inside any easier to swallow. She'd made Katniss uncomfortable, and now it was on me to fix it. The thought that I'd been the reason for her discomfort gnawed at me. She wasn't wrong, either—I had let my feelings slip into places they shouldn't. I would never act on them, not in a way that crossed any lines, but I could understand how she might've felt. Like I'd taken advantage of my position, like I'd violated the trust between us. And that thought... made me sick.

Leaning back onto the bedrail, I kept my voice steady, though the tension in the room felt palpable. "Katniss, when I'm at work, I'm your nurse. Nothing more. Outside of that… I don't know. Maybe we're friends, maybe we're acquaintances. But in here, when I'm taking care of you, I promise I put all of that aside. My only goal is to make sure you feel safe and comfortable."

I hesitated, choosing my next words carefully. "I won't lie to you and say I haven't… felt something for a while now. But when I'm in this uniform, it's different. I am here to take care of you, nothing more and nothing less. Whether you want to think of me as a nurse or your friend, that's up to you. It's how ever you feel that helps you get through your day."

Her eyes lingered on mine, and I hoped, more than anything, that she believed me.

Her eyes darted between mine, and after a moment, she gave a single nod, a silent agreement that we were on the same page. For a split second, I almost reached out to touch her face, but instead, I adjusted her gown. "No free shows, please—I'm working."

To my surprise, she laughed, a soft sound that eased the tension, even if only for a moment.

Getting the tube out turned out to be a bigger hassle than I anticipated. Whoever put it in had overinflated the balloon that held it in place, and we discovered the issue the hard way. I gently tugged, only for her to yelp in pain and reflexively clamp her legs shut, trapping my hand between her thighs.

I winced, quickly grabbing the syringe to release the fluid, which spilled onto the floor. I drained it again, trying to nudge her legs apart with my elbow, but she stayed tense. I slipped the tube with the syringe port out and drained even more fluid.

"What kind of idiot did this?" I muttered under my breath.

Katniss was shaking now, and I knew I had to shift from clinical to comforting. "Hey, hey," I said softly, rubbing her calf with my free hand. "You're okay. I figured out the problem. It's ready to come out now, I promise."

Her legs relaxed just enough for me to free my hand. I gently removed the tube, and though she let out a soft groan from the discomfort, it was over.

"See? All done," I said, checking the end of the tube to make sure it was intact. I grabbed a washcloth, wiping her legs clean before giving her a reassuring look. "Let's get you cleaned up." I carefully cleaned the area, inspecting to make sure everything looked as it should. "Alright, Miss Everdeen, you are officially tube-free!"

I smiled, though I quickly glanced at her three IVs and added with a laugh, "Well, mostly."

She gave me a small smirk, taking the washcloth from me to finish cleaning herself as I turned around to give her some privacy. I busied myself with cleaning up the supplies and adjusting the monitor, trying to act like I wasn't hyper-aware of her presence behind me.

Then, unexpectedly, I felt her hand on my arm. I flinched, just a little, surprised by the contact.

"Thank you, Peeta," she says quietly.

I nod once, gently pulling the covers back over her and handing her the TV remote. "Delly's just outside next to me, so if you need anything, just shout."

The rest of the day passes without a hitch, and so do the next two. Katniss's health steadily improves, each day better than the last. She's been in nearly perfect condition for days now, and the doctors are starting to talk about moving her to a different floor. Of course, the thought of her leaving stings a little. There's a hollow sadness in knowing she won't be in my care much longer, but at the same time, I'm relieved, ecstatic, really, that she's healing.

But it's at the end of the fifth day of my shift—when everything feels like it's finally falling into place—that it all comes to a screeching halt.