#always-andshewrites

Katniss had been looking forward to this weekend for months. Three and a half days locked away with her five closest friends. She couldn’t wait to be surrounded by the wilderness, to inhale the piney scent of the fresh air, and to have what would hopefully be a relaxing Memorial Day weekend at Annie’s uncle’s lake house.

She had finally arrived, no thanks to the miserable two-hour drive in her beat-up, air-condition-less Toyota Corolla. The second she stepped inside, she was more than thankful the lake house came fully stocked (meaning all she had to do was pack her clothes), but most of all, that it had fully functioning central air.

It hadn’t surprised Katniss in the least when Annie was assigning their bedrooms, that she was somehow paired with Peeta. Logically, it made the most sense. Annie would room with Finnick, her boyfriend since‒well, actually, Katniss couldn’t recall a time in which Annie and Finnick weren’t a couple. Then there was Gale and Jo. They would share a room, since, like Annie and Finnick, they were also an “item.” That left her and Peeta, and only one remaining room. In their previous trips to the lake, Katniss and Peeta always had their own room, but apparently, this year one of the rooms was undergoing renovations, leaving only one spare guest room.

Katniss wasn’t sure why sharing a room‒or was it the bed‒that seemed to be bothering her so much this time; it wasn’t as if she’d never shared a bed with Peeta before. Though they weren’t a couple, and never had been, they were best friends. They hit it off from the very first moment they met. She couldn’t count how many times she’d thanked Gale for forcing her to go to the beach that day.

“You know, I can always sleep on the couch if it–it um…makes you uncomfortable.”

Peeta’s voice broke her from the trance she was in‒thinking about that day on the beach as she mindlessly unloaded her clothes from her suitcase and tossed them into the drawers.

“Don’t be silly, Peeta; it’s fine. Your snoring doesn’t bother me anymore,” Katniss joked, trying to keep the mood light.

Peeta snuck up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist before planting a kiss on her cheek. For some reason, this caused goose pimples to form there, in the exact spot where Peeta’s lips had grazed her skin, all the way down her neck, along with a strange tingling-warm sensation throughout her insides.

“I don’t snore,” Peeta pretended to be offended, backing away. “It’s just…I don’t know, you seemed kind of tense when Annie paired us up. Anyway, just know it’s an open-ended offer. My feelings won’t be hurt if you change your mind.” Peeta tried to assure her.

“Shut up,” Katniss retorted playfully, pushing him away. “It’s fine, Peeta. I was shocked, is all,” Katniss defended herself, though even she didn’t believe her own words.

Since Katniss and Peeta were the last to arrive at the lake house, they weren’t privy to Annie, Finnick, and Jo’s deception. While Gale was scouting the woods, Jo cornered Finnick and Annie with a plan of her own. (A few hours earlier)

“Okay, who else is fed up with Cinnamon Buns and Brainless? They’re obviously sickeningly in love with each other…have been for God-knows-how-long. Everyone sees it except for them, so we’ve have to force them to admit it to themselves.”

Annie squealed, jumping up and down and clapping giddily like an excited little girl. “Oh! I’m so in, what were you thinking?”

“Well, hmmm,” Jo began, pressing a finger to her chin in thought. She had to think, and quickly, before Gale returned. He wouldn’t approve of their scheming against his two closest friends, and if he found out, he would definitely sell them out.

“Aha! I got it!” Jo beamed, her eyes lighting up with an idea.

Finnick simply stood back, observing the girls with amusement.

“First, we need to eliminate one of the rooms. Force them into sharing a room‒and a bed.” Jo waggled her brows for effect. “Any ideas?”

Annie’s brows furrowed in concentration as she thought of how she and Jo could pull this off. Then her eyes widened, lit up like a Christmas tree as the grin stretched across her face.

“We’ll block the room off. Say my uncle is doing renovations or something and he told me the only stipulation for us spending the weekend here was the one room is off limits.”

“Okay, but how do you suppose we block the room off?”

Finnick, who had been listening intently to the scheming girls had the perfect thing in his bag. And, of course he would, for he wasn’t known as an immature prankster for nothing.

“You girls just leave that to me.” Finnick grinned mischievously, pulling out a roll of yellow “KEEP OUT” tape from his pack.

X-X-X

Throughout the evening, Jo and Annie occasionally traded devious grins when no one was looking. Their first night was coming to a close‒everyone was exhausted from the drive down, coupled with the mind-numbing heat and the fact that it was almost midnight.

“I think I’m going to call it a night. This face doesn’t achieve perfection on its own; I need my beauty sleep,” Finnick said with a yawn. Annie shoved his head playfully, pushing him into the sofa.

“Shut up, Odair,” Katniss snarked as she and Peeta watched their friends exit the room. First Finnick and Annie, then Gale and Jo, disappearing down the hallway.

“You coming?” Katniss locked eyes with Peeta as she stood up to fall in line with her friends.

“I think I’m going to tackle the dishes. I wanted to make breakfast in the morning, and I’d rather start the day with a clean kitchen.” Peeta told her.

  “Oh, okay. Um…” Katniss faltered, feeling disappointed. “I’ll help you then,” she offered.

“Katniss, um, that’s sweet but no‒” Peeta said softly. “You can barely hold your eyes open, and it’s really not that much. Just everyone’s glasses and a few bowls. Go get comfy, and I’ll meet you in there.” Peeta could tell that Katniss wasn’t going to let this go. “Look, it’ll take me less than ten minutes, but if you stay in here with me, we’ll end up talking and it’ll take twice as long.”

Katniss frowned, her brows drawing together. She wanted to object, but she knew Peeta was right. “Fine,” she stated stubbornly. “But if you’re not there in ten minutes, I’m coming to find you,” she playfully threatened her best friend.

“Deal,” Peeta said.

Katniss made her way to the room she’d be sharing with Peeta, grabbed her nightclothes and toothbrush, then opened the door to the adjoining bathroom.

I sure am glad it was the other room and not this one that’s getting renovated, Katniss thought optimistically as she made her way into the private full bathroom attached to her room. She picked up her nightclothes and slipped into the dark, hunter green tank top. Then, as she climbed into the orange-like-the-sunset, with light, paler orange polka dotted pair of boxer shorts she’d once stolen from Peeta, a smile crept upon her lips.

As she brushed her teeth, her eyes locked with her reflection.

“This is no different than any of the other hundred times Peeta and I have slept in the same bed,” Katniss felt silly defending herself‒to herself. Then, she could have sworn that her reflection crossed its arms and raised a condescending brow at her, so she closed her eyes tightly and shook her head back and forth. “Man, I must have drunk more than I thought,” she told herself.

When she was finished in the bathroom, she headed back into the room. She was eager to climb into the feather-light, queen-sized bed and slip under the goose down comforter and fall asleep in Peeta’s arms. For some reason, the nightmares never came when he was next to her.

So, that’s what she did. She pulled the covers back, toed her socks off, and waited for Peeta to join her.

And it wasn’t long. Two, three, maybe four minutes later, Katniss heard Peeta’s heavy footfalls entering the room. He spent less than ten minutes in the bathroom before he slid in next to her, smelling like…Peeta. She inhaled slowly and savored his musky scent of cinnamon and dill. Then, as if it was second nature, Peeta immediately pulled Katniss into his arms, close, close, closer to his body, not fully satisfied until Katniss’s back was pressed against his chest.

“Sweet dreams, Kitty,” Peeta whispered into her ear as she fell into a deep slumber.

Half-asleep, and moments from losing consciousness, the corners of Katniss’s lips curved up at the nickname. And then, just like that, she was out.

X-X-X

Katniss remembered waking up sometime in the middle of the night to see Peeta sleeping soundly. She was still cradled in his arms, their faces only inches apart. She was afraid to move, as she did not want to disturb him‒he just looked too peaceful. She was more than happy lying there, staring‒studying his features, something she rarely had the chance to do during her waking hours.

He really is a beautiful man, Katniss thought to herself as she mentally traced his perfectly symmetrical features.

And then: ‘Wow, I never realized how long and blond his eyelashes are…I wonder how they don’t get tangled when he blinks.’

That was the last thought Katniss had before she fell back asleep. She awoke some time later to the succulent aroma of bacon and the sound of grease sizzling in the frying pan‒in addition to an empty bed. She rushed into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and got dressed, then hurried to the kitchen.

“Good morning, sleepy head!” Peeta called out, grinning from ear to ear. Katniss surveyed the room to see that everyone else was already up. 

“So, us girls are going into town today. Gonna have a girls day while the boys stay home and do housework,” Jo mumbled with a mouthful of eggs.

“And, what exactly does that mean?” Katniss questioned with a raise of her brow. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of where this was going.

Annie politely covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. “The boys said they have a surprise for us tonight, so I decided we’re going shopping.”

Katniss rolled her eyes. She hated shopping. But she knew it was pointless arguing with Annie.

Once breakfast was over, everyone pitched in to help Peeta get the kitchen back in order. Then the boys kicked the girls out, demanding they not return until at least six o’clock.

X-X-X

“Tell me Katniss, how was snuggling in bed with Cinnamon Buns all night? I’m telling you, girl, if Gale wasn’t so talented with that thing he does with his tongue—” Annie shoved Jo, knowing Katniss could only tolerate so much teasing before she snapped.

“Don’t listen to her, Kat; I’m sure Peeta was a perfect gentleman.” Katniss rolled her eyes at Annie’s retort, although she was always grateful for her friends support.

“Anyway, Brainless,” Jo went on. “Cinnamon Buns is just going to love your swimsuit.” Jo chuckled.

“Oh, you’re out of your bloody mind if you think I’m actually going to wear this thing. I don’t get it, though; why does something with less fabric cost more than the one with more?”

“Because sexy ain’t cheap!” Katniss had to laugh at Jo’s statement. She supposed there was some truth to it.

The girls went back and forth with their chatter until they got back to the cabin, right at six o’clock. 

“We’re out back!” They heard Gale call out as soon as they walked inside. The cabin, which was filled with the scent of fresh bread, was spotless. Katniss didn’t actually think they would do anything but drink beer and maybe go fishing. They followed the sound of Gale’s voice, walking through the cabin and out the back door to see the boys‒each with a beer in hand on the patio by the grill. 

“Kiss the chef? You’re such a weirdo,” Jo said when she saw Finnick in his ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron. But when he turned around to grab the plate for the steaks, Jo almost fell on the ground from laughing so hard when she got a full view of Finnick’s backside. The only thing underneath his apron was a skimpy, navy blue speedo. 

“Oh, come on. I’m bringin’ sexy back!” Finnick waggled his brows suggestively, then twirled Annie into his arms before pressing his lips to hers.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I have to agree with Jo. You’re such a dork!” Annie giggled, returning Finnick’s affection.

They had dinner outside, down at the Men’s Den, which was a small, screened-in porch-like structure at the end of a dock that floated on water. Dinner was steak, fried squash and zucchini, and baked potatoes, all cooked on the grill, in addition to Peeta’s famous yeast rolls.

After dinner, Annie handed out her and Finnick’s famous, homemade drinks. Fanny-rita’s, they called them.

Katniss began feeling the effects after her third drink. Her body slowly began to relax, and for some reason, every time she looked at Peeta she got this warm and fuzzy feeling inside. The feeling reminded her of happiness.

“Let’s go swimming!” Jo shouted from her position, straddled on Gale’s lap, cowgirl style.

“Let’s do it,” Gale mumbled in agreement.

“Oh yeah!” Annie squealed. “We forgot to show the boys what we got today!” Annie said, jumping up and flinging her sun dress off to reveal a cute two-piece bikini. Finnick pulled her to him and groaned.

“Oh baby, that is so sexy! And it’s definitely coming off…and soon.”

Peeta groaned at Annie and Finnick’s tongue-aerobics and said, “Gross, you guys‒get a room!” 

Jo soon followed suit and stripped down to her two-piece bathing suit that Katniss wondered how it even stayed on. It barely came with enough fabric to cover her nipples.

“Okay, your turn, Brainless.” Jo called out. Katniss crossed her arms and shook her head.

With narrowed eyes, furrowed brows, Jo glared at Katniss until she finally conceded.

“Okay, if anyone laughs at me, I swear I’ll skewer you with an arrow in your sleep!” Katniss threatened her friends. 

Peeta gave her a soft smile. “No one’s going to laugh at you,” he promised her.

Katniss removed her tank top first; that seemed the easiest thing to do. Then she slowly unknotted the tie of her wraparound skirt to reveal a modest, simple green halter-like top, and the bottoms looked like a pair of boy shorts. Jo was adamant she buy a bikini for tonight, and since Katniss lost a bet, she chose a bathing suit with the most fabric available.

Katniss was averting her eyes from everyone, trying to avoid their stares. But had she been privy to where her friends’ attention was directed at, she would have seen everyone’s eyes on Peeta, for they were only interested in his reaction.

Peeta tried, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Katniss as she stripped down to her swimsuit. When the big reveal happened, his jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and then darkened with nothing but pure lust.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Jo asked, breaking the tension. 

“Alright, let’s jump in!” Gale said, shoving Jo into the lake. The sky was beginning to darken, the sun was setting on the horizon.

At once, Katniss realized this was Peeta’s favorite time of day. And the sky‒it was his favorite color. She wondered if that’s why she chose an orange bathing suit versus her favorite color of green.

The boys rough-housed, as boys like to do on the swinging rope for a while. Then they gradually paired off‒Annie and Finnick to one side of the dock, Gale and Jo on the other, leaving Katniss and Peeta lying-floating on their life jackets.

X-X-X

Peeta reached out for Katniss, pulling her into his arms. He hugged her tight, and the warmth of his wet skin raised Katniss’s body temperature by at least two degrees. Or at least, that’s how she felt.

“I missed you today,” Peeta whispered into her ear, inhaling her scent. Katniss didn’t know what to say–she wasn’t sure how to respond since they’d only been apart for a few hours today.

Peeta finally released his grip on Katniss, so she treaded the water, her and Peeta’s noses only inches apart.

There was a pregnant pause, although not uncomfortable in the slightest. “Katniss,” Peeta whispered her name, and it sent another surge of heat surging through her limbs.

“Yes?” Katniss managed, beginning to regret those last two shots. The way Peeta said her name had her instantly worried, that, and the fact that he was refusing to meet her eyes.

‘Oh no, this is it. This is the moment I’m going to lose him. He’s going to tell me he’s met someone. That we won’t be spending as much time together,’ Katniss silently worried.

“There’s um…I need to tell you something, and I need to say it now, while I have the extra courage. But you have to know, Katniss; you have to know I’m not saying this just because I’ve had a few drinks. I’m not drunk, and I know exactly what I’m saying. I just need you to know the things I’m going to tell you…I feel them…every minute of every day, and especially when I’m completely sober.”

“Okay. Tell me, Peeta. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know, Katniss,” Peeta paused, finally looking up to meet her eyes. “I just…I don’t want to lose you, I can’t—”

Katniss locked her hands around both of Peeta’s wrists, thankful for the life preserver keeping her afloat. “That would never happen Peeta. There is nothing you could ever say or do that could—”

In an instant, Katniss felt her body colliding against Peeta’s, his hands still firmly on her hips. He pulled her body flush to his—and the only place for her legs to go was around his waist. Then he pressed his forehead to hers so that their noses were touching.

“You feel it too, don’t you. Katniss?” Peeta’s question came out in a raspy whisper, almost seductive. Or, maybe Katniss was just imagining things.

“I…I—uh,” Katniss stuttered. Of course, she felt it, too; she’d felt it for a long time. But she was too much of a coward to say it out loud.

“I know you feel it, Katniss. Please…tell me,” Peeta begged her. “I-I need to hear you say it.”

Katniss tried to wiggle out of his arms, tried to break the hold he had on her, but Peeta’s grip remained firm.

“Peeta, you’re drunk,” Katniss dismissed his words.

“I might be, but that doesn’t change anything. My blood alcohol level doesn’t affect the way I feel about you, the way I’ve always felt about you. From that first day on the beach, I knew you were something special Katniss. I knew you were precious, someone to hold on to. I knew I had to have you, in whatever capacity you would allow.” The vibration of Peeta’s voice sent a shiver up Katniss’s spine.

“Now you’re just making things up.” Katniss blushed, finally giving up on trying to escape Peeta’s arms.

“I’m not. I remember the day I met you as if it were yesterday. It’s permanently embedded in my mind.

 (Four years ago)

“Holy shit—who is that girl with your girlfriend, Finnick?” It took Peeta a moment to get his voice to work when he saw her. They were on the beach tossing a football back and forth while they waited for the rest of their friends to join them.

“Oh, that’s Katniss.” Peeta watched this “Katniss” run up to Gale and wrap her arms around his neck, and he felt red-hot jealousy bubbling in his veins.

“I didn’t know Gale had a girlfriend,” Peeta said to Finnick.

“Oh, they’re not together. They’ve been friends since like…they were in diapers—oh shit, Peet! You wanna tap that, don’t you? Don’t let Gale find out; he’ll beat the shit outta you if you hurt her. He’s like…fiercely protective over her.”

Peeta couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he watched Katniss walking toward him, sandwiched between Annie and Gale. There was no way on God’s green Earth that he would ever hurt her. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. She was someone to love, to cherish, to worship. Her chestnut hair was in a single braid, slung over her left shoulder. The hair tie at the end of the braid was in the shape of a primrose. Her olive-toned skin sparkled under the sunlight, beads of sweat forming across her freckled nose. She wore a dark green, one-piece bathing suit, with one of those wrap-around skirts, tied at her hip.

Peeta forced himself to focus; he didn’t want to make a fool of himself—he knew first impressions were important.

“Yo, Peet,” Gale called out as he walked over to him, Katniss by his side. “This is Catnip.” Peeta frowned at the name, just as Katniss punched Gale’s bicep.

“It’s Katniss, don’t listen to this idiot,” Katniss corrected Gale, smiling from ear to ear, meeting Peeta’s eyes. At that moment, Peeta had never seen a smile as beautiful as hers.

“I’m Peeta,” Peeta said, waiting for her face to sour at hearing his name. Most people did.

“Like the bread? Hmm, I like it,” Katniss said, amused.

“Well, yes and no. It’s spelled differently. My dad’s a baker…”

“I can’t believe you remember all that.” Katniss blushed after Peeta took them down memory lane.

“I remember everything about you, Katniss.”

Time stood still as their eyes locked. No words were spoken under the light of the moon, for they didn’t need to be. Katniss felt her heart pounding inside her chest, felt a stirring in her belly, then a throbbing at her center.

Peeta reached up and cupped the back of Katniss’s head before gently, slowly, pulling her lips to his, so as to allow her time to reject him. However, the rejection never came. Peeta pressed his mouth against hers, ran his tongue across her lips and peppered her with sweet, gentle kisses.

In that moment, Katniss could swear she heard trumpets blaring, followed by fireworks. She meant to tell Peeta no, that they couldn’t do this. They shouldn't do this. She didn’t want to ruin the best friendship she’d ever had. She couldn’t lose Peeta, not over some silly crush. She meant to push him away, to swim back to the dock, but the moment his lips touched hers, she melted in his arms. She pulled herself closer to his body, if that was even possible and deepened the kiss, and she locked her arms around his neck, tightening her legs around his waist. A wave of embarrassment rolled over her when a moan escaped her mouth as Peeta’s lips found their way to her neck.

“Woo-hoo!!!” Annie called out, clapping giddily in Finnick’s arms.

“About fucking time!” Johanna snarked, and Katniss could feel her cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson.

“Shut up, ass suckers!” Peeta yelled at his friends, unable to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face.

Katniss hid her face in the crook of Peeta’s neck, too embarrassed to face her friends. They’d been giving her and Peeta hell for the longest time. Always nagging them about “getting over it and hooking up already.” And for the longest time, Katniss and Peeta insisted that they were only friends. And they were.

But now there was no turning back.

“Okay, continue,” Annie waved them on. “Pretend like we’re not even here.”

Peeta continued to hold Katniss while he bobbed in the water, but their moment was broken. Katniss was too nervous to do anything more. But Peeta was at least grateful she wasn’t pulling back.

“Want to go inside?” Katniss nodded at Peeta’s question. Peeta  guided them to the ladder and climbed out, then helped Katniss up the ladder. He grabbed two towels from the warmer, handing one to Katniss.

“We’re going in. Don’t drown,” Peeta called out without looking back.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be up soon.”

Katniss and Peeta walked back to the cabin with their fingers linked and their hearts connected.

X-X-X

“Peeta, I-this-I don’t think‒” Katniss began to protest, but Peeta stopped her.

“Katniss,” Peeta whispered into Katniss’s ear and she melted like silly putty. “Can you honestly look me in the eye and say you don’t want this as much as I do? Because if you can, I’ll never mention it again. We’ll pretend like the last twenty-four hours never happened and nothing will change.”

Peeta and Katniss had been back from the lake for at least an hour. They had both showered (separately), gotten into their night clothes, crawled into the bed, and slipped under the covers.

A tear escaped from the corner of Katniss’s eye, and Peeta caught it with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t cry Katniss, I’m‒”

“Peeta, no, I can’t‒” Peeta felt a giant lump form in his throat and it took everything in him to force the tears away. “I can’t tell you that Peeta, because I do. I feel it, too. I have for a long time.” Katniss knew this wasn’t what she should say, but she had never lied to Peeta and she didn’t plan to start now.

As suddenly as it appeared, the giant lump in Peeta’s throat vanished just as quickly. Peeta thought Katniss was saying she can’t—with him, but she was simply answering his question from a moment ago.

“Peeta, you’re my best friend. When something happens in my life, whether it’s good, bad, or something as simple as me finding a clearance sale at the grocery store, you’re the first person I want to call. You mean so much to me, and it’s just that…I’m not just scared, I’m terrified.”

“What are you afraid of Katniss? You have to know that I would never hurt you, I’d never betray you, I—”

“It’s not…that’s not what scares me. I don’t doubt that. But…what if it doesn’t work out? What if things end badly and I lose the best friend I’ve ever had? I…I don’t think I could survive that.” Katniss’s voice trembled as she spoke these words. The thought of losing Peeta, or the possibility of never seeing him again…it truly petrified her, and she wasn’t sure which scared her more.

Peeta gave Katniss a soft smile and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “But what if it does work out? What if it’s great and amazing, or better than anything either of us could dream of? Because I think it could be. I think we could be something beautiful. And I think it’s worth the risk. That you’re worth the risk.”

Katniss hooked her arms around Peeta’s broad torso, scooted her body as close as she could manage and just held on for dear life. “I can’t lose you Peeta…I can’t. It would break me.”

Peeta engulfed Katniss in his arms and used his cheek to brush the stray hairs from her face. “You’ll never lose me Katniss. Never.”

Katniss hooked her leg over Peeta’s and rested her head against his chest. She inhaled the scent of cinnamon and dill and shivered.

“Are you cold?” Peeta asked. Katniss blushed, glad for the poor lighting in the room.

“No. I’m perfect.” Katniss said.

Then Peeta pulled back slightly, tilted Katniss’s chin up so their eyes met. Katniss wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, just staring into the others eyes before Peeta leaned in. Slowly, slowly, he inched closer and closer until finally, his full, soft and lush lips grazed her own.

It took everything in Katniss not to attack Peeta, she so badly wanted to flip him on his back and devour him right here.

Peeta’s kisses were soft and gentle at first, as if they were asking for permission. One of his hands rested on the crest of her hip while the other reached out to cup the back of her head. Katniss wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Peeta pulled her closer, deepening their kiss. She parted her lips, granting him access, which he accepted greedily. His tongue traced her lips before he slid it into Katniss’s mouth.

Feeling an insatiable amount of pleasure, Katniss moaned and couldn’t find it in herself to even be embarrassed. Then she slid her hand up the back of Peeta’s t-shirt and dug her palms into the firm muscles of his back.

“This is a million times better than my dreams,” Peeta’s raspy voice vibrated against Katniss’s lips, and it sent a surge of electricity straight to her core.

Katniss had always wondered if Peeta was a good kisser. She even occasionally found herself daydreaming about Peeta’s tongue. She wondered if he tasted like he smelled…thought about what his tongue would feel like inside her mouth. She had even fantasized on a few occasions, what his tongue might feel like…in other places. But all the daydreaming in the world could have never prepared her for this moment. 

Peeta’s tongue…it was, in one word…sublime. Everything about it was perfect. Like the final puzzle piece, it fit perfectly in her mouth; it moved in perfect synchronicity with her own. It glided in and out, in and out slowly, then side to side…with the utmost perfection. 

Yes, Peeta was definitely a good kisser.

“God, you taste so good,” Peeta groaned, his slick tongue gliding against the sensitive skin of her neck.

Katniss untangled her arms from Peeta and tugged his shirt up. She wanted it off. She needed it off. She yearned for his bare skin to collide with hers. Peeta acquiesced and raised his arms, allowing Katniss to rid him of the thin fabric.

In turn, Peeta did the same to Katniss, seamlessly slipping her tank top over her head. Like a magnet, they gravitated into each other’s arms. For several minutes, Peeta held Katniss against his chest, savoring the pleasure her bare skin gave him, and then finally, tracing his fingers lightly across her back.

“Katniss?” Peeta rasped her name, and once again she shuddered. “I want you.” Katniss wondered how three little words could have such an effect on her body and how they caused every nerve in her body to come to life.

“I’ve wanted you for so long. I’ve fantasized and dreamed about this day so many times over. I never…I guess…what I’m trying to say is you’re the one in control tonight.“ Peeta’s serious gaze penetrated through Katniss as she listened to him continue. "You call the shots. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. But if you don’t…if there’s something you don’t want, or you’re not ready for, all you have to do is say the word. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I… just…please don’t be afraid to tell me no.”

How is this man so perfect? Katniss silently wondered as she tangled her limbs with Peeta’s, then slammed her mouth against his.

Katniss didn’t think there was a single thing she wouldn’t give Peeta‒tonight or…ever. Because the truth was, she’d never wanted anyone or anything more than she wanted Peeta right now.

[ Peeta ]

“W-wh-en d-d-do you t-th-think th-the p-power will be b-b-ba-back on?” I sneak a glance through the hood of my blankets to catch the most stunning pair of grey eyes through the heaping mountain of blankets on the other side of my bed. Even though I can’t see her, my heart swells just knowing she’s there.

Katniss Everdeen: my roommate, my best friend and quite possibly my soul mate. I’m thankful for the blankets concealing my jubilation, otherwise my lit-up-like-a-kid-on-Christmas-morning face would betray me and reveal my secret. Don’t get me wrong, it wouldn’t be the end of the world for her to know; it’s just that…well, it’s not the right time. Not yet, anyway.

Katniss and I are in mirroring positions, both of us swaddled in our own, separate mountain of blankets, curled at opposite ends of my bed, knees tucked to our chest, teeth chattering relentlessly.

More than once I’ve almost been tempted to suggest the obvious—that there is a simple solution to our current predicament if only she could just get past this newfound aversion to being close to me.

A person would think that two people who’d been best friends since the third grade could do something as simple as hold each other for the sake of keeping warm during an ice storm. I mean, we are two people whose friendship outlasted the drama of middle and high school; hell, it even powered through work, life, and all the many stresses that college entails. It’s not as if we’ve never occupied the same space on a single bed before. There were plenty of drunken nights we found ourselves passed out in one of our college dorms—in a twin-sized bed at that. There were also numerous times in which we were both completely sober, either studying for finals or curled up with a bowl of popcorn and a movie. So, I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or if something happened to bring out this new, self-conscious side of her, but for the last two months, anytime I get within three feet of her, she seems to go running for the hills. She either hauls ass to the bathroom or spontaneously gets the sudden urge to do the tedious, nitty-gritty kind of cleaning. At times I wonder if she’s figured out how I feel and goes out of her way to keep her distance, so as to not give me the wrong impression.

“C-c-can’t l-la-last f-f-forever,” I say, unable to keep my teeth from clinking together. “B-but you have t-t-to admit, it is k-kind of b-beautiful.”

At the sound of my voice, Katniss pokes her head through her homemade cocoon of trembling blankets, her teeth still chattering and looks out the window. And, I don’t know why, but the sight of her nearly convulsing from the cold sends an intense surge of guilt rushing through me. I feel so helpless and incompetent because I want nothing more than to warm her up, for her to feel warm, safe, and comfortable. But that’s kind of hard to do in an apartment that has been without power for the last twenty-four hours and with no telling as to when it will return.

“I don’t know how you do it, but y-you always f-find the b-beauty even in t-the worst s-situations. I just…d-d-di-didn’t t-t-th-think it-t-t w-w-would g-g-get th-th-this c-c-cold s-s-so f-fast.” I nod, shrugging my shoulders just before hugging my arms to my chest. This time yesterday we were with power and had a perfectly warm and toasty apartment. We had the electric fireplace blazing in the living room, which was more than enough to heat the entire apartment. And here we are now, less than twenty-four hours later, unable to feel our fingers, toes, or noses. We’d be okay if we still had the fire, but an electric fireplace is useless sans electricity. At this rate we’ll be able to see our breath by the morning.

‘You know what to do,’ my internal voice of reasoning taunts me.

‘You have two choices: be a coward and continue sitting here watching the girl you’ve been in love with nearly your entire life freeze to death, or you can grow a pair. It doesn’t have to mean anything.’

By the time I’ve finally talked myself into doing something about our current predicament, my body seems to have taken on a mind of its own. Before I know it, I’m wriggling out of my own personal cocoon of blankets, letting them fall behind me. I scoot to the edge of the bed and plant my feet firmly on the frigid, hardwood floor. I have an idea, but the only way this is going to work is if I don’t give Katniss time to question me.

At first, I feel as if I’m moving in slow motion, but eventually, the blood starts pumping throughout my body, or at least enough for my arms to cooperate. I don’t look back to see Katniss’s expression as I begin shedding my layers, peeling off a thick, woolen sweater, followed by my UNCC sweatshirt. Then, I’m sliding out of my two extra pairs of sweatpants, leaving me in a single pair of clothes: a single orange, long-sleeve t-shirt, and a pair of thin, cotton, blue and white striped pajama bottoms.

When I turn around to face Katniss, I’m not at all surprised by her bewildered expression. Her eyes have widened to the diameter of golf balls, and her mouth is hanging open in shock.

“T-this is rid-d-diculous, Katniss. Survival one-oh-one says the best, m-most effective means of maintaining warm-t-t-th in hypothermic temperatures is with b-b-ody heat. You of all people know that.” I glare at her with a raised brow, throwing her own words back in her face.

On more than one occasion I’ve heard Katniss preaching this to her students, so I wonder why, at any point over the last twenty-four hours, the thought hasn’t occurred to her. Or, could it be that she’s so repulsed by me that she’d rather risk freezing to death than cuddle next to me?

Katniss teaches survival skills at the local YMCA. It’s what she does eight hours a day, five days a week. She’s got a natural gift for it, too. She keeps it one-hundred percent informative and educational while also making it fun, almost like a game and involving each of her students. She’s so amazing at what she does that people willingly spend months and months on a waiting list just to take her class.

I used to tease her, saying, “How difficult can it be to teach people how to go camping?” After that she dared me to take her class, the extended version. She ascertained that I wouldn’t be so cocky by the end of her four-week class. And she was right. (Of course she was.) I had a new appreciation for what she does after only one day. I was astonished and flabbergasted all in one at how in-depth the sessions were. Not only that, but the last two weeks of Katniss’s class is nothing but role-playing. She splits the class into small groups and gives each group a card, all with different scenarios. You then have to figure out how to survive with sometimes nothing but your wits and hope like hell that you paid attention the day she taught about edible plants. And if you happen to be one of the lucky ones, you might get a backpack filled with supplies. (I, however, was not one of the lucky ones.)

There has never been anything romantic between Katniss and I through all our years of friendship. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been secretly pining over her after all this time. I’ve just never been brave enough to initiate anything. Chalk it up to cowardice or whatever, but I’ve always been too afraid of losing her friendship, and our friendship means more to me than anything else in this world. Katniss is so important to me that I’d rather have her as my best friend than nothing at all.

“C-come on, K-kitty, don’t be s-stubborn.” I use the pet name I bestowed her with in the fourth grade, knowing she adores and detests it with equal measure. “You know I’m right.” I crawl to the other side of the bed, keeping my eyes locked with Katniss’s. “I p-pr-promise I won’t d-d-do anything w-w-wi-without y-your p-p-per-permission.” I grin cheekily, my teeth still chattering as I wriggle myself behind her.

She doesn’t object, whether it’s because she doesn’t mind or she’s still in shock, I’m not sure, but I take advantage of the moment and free Katniss from her wad of blankets. Then I begin peeling two of her three layers of clothes off while letting her keep the scarf.

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to mind the assistance, and slowly, the shock begins to slowly melt from her face, followed by the corners of her lips curving into a smile. She tries so hard to fight the smile, but it’s a losing battle.

I fluff and resituate our pillows before stretching out on my bed. When I open my arm to her, her brows furrow, drawing together like she’s thinking hard about something for a second before she finally accepts my invitation. She curls up next to me, seeming to go out of her way to keep from touching me. This isn’t the first time we’ve shared space on the same bed, but this is the first time it’s been this awkward. And for the life of me, I wish I knew what was bothering her, so we could get rid of all this tension.

More than ready to put an end to this nonsense, I decide to confront Katniss head-on. “Why are you being so weird, Katniss? Come here.” I pull her back to my chest, draping my giant, king-sized down comforter over the two of us. With both of our heads resting on the same pillow, Katniss remains rigidly tense next to me. “Katniss, what’s the deal? Do I stink or something? I swear I took a shower the day we lost power,” I whisper in her ear.

I hear a slight chuckle escape from her, and I smile knowing my words have the desired effect. Slowly, her muscles relax, her body gradually forming next to mine. I tuck one hand underneath her, the other over her middle until my hands meet and inch her closer to my body. I know she’s lowered her guard and I’ve earned her trust when her arms settle on top of mine. I feel like I’ve won the lottery as she hugs my arms to her chest, pulling me even closer behind her.

“Wow, I’m actually starting to feel my fingers,” Katniss says, wiggling her fingers in the air. Then her body fully, completely relaxes, nearly conforming to mine. I inhale a slow, deep, and cleansing breath to steady my frantic, racing heart from bursting out of my chest.

Using my elbow to push myself up, I lean up and plant a kiss to her temple. “I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately, but it’s me, Katniss. Peeta Mellark, your best friend since grade school, and I hope you know that I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. You do know that, right?” She looks over her shoulder, meeting my eyes, and that’s when it happens. First, our heat merges; then there’s a spark, a yearning, like some kind of magnetic force pushing us closer…and it feels almost… electric. And maybe I’m crazy, but I think she feels it, too.

Our eyes remain locked and frozen in place for one, two, even three seconds before Katniss looks away uncomfortably. If I don’t do something to lighten the mood, there is no doubt she’ll pull away, so, using my toes, I remove my socks, then surprise her by planting the soles of my still-ice-cold feet firmly against her calves.

“PEETA!!!” Katniss shrieks, kicking her legs and squirming, trying to wriggle out of my grasp. Refusing to let her go, I tighten my grip around her waist while removing my feet from her legs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it again, just…don’t leave. We’ll get cold again,” I reason with her, afraid she’ll go back to her solitary mountain of blankets, that I’ve ruined spending any time with her at all.

“I won’t go away; you’re the only thing keeping me warm,” she says with crossed arms and her chin pointed out indignantly, all while trying to fight the corners of her lips from curving up.

“Oh, that’s cold,” I say, feigning a bruised ego. Then she surprises me by flipping onto her other side—to face me.

“No…but, I bet…” I hear the mischief laced in her voice, but not soon enough. Not until it’s too late and her still frozen-as-a-popsicle hands are slithering their way up the back of my shirt. Then, she presses both of her hands flat against my skin. I manage to keep a straight face as her freezing cold, soft, delicate, and slender fingers work their way up my back.

I know she’s expecting a reaction much like hers, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction. Once her hands begin to warm up from the heat of my back, she flips them over to toast the backside of her hands. I cringe from the sudden temperature change, but manage to keep a straight face. Though I want to scream, squirm, and perhaps remove her hands from my back, I remain strong and hold my composure. Then I reach behind me and grab her hands, pulling them around to my stomach, and covering them with my own hands.

I feel like I’m in heaven, that my dreams, fantasies are coming true. Katniss is in my  bed, with me in it, and her bare, naked hands are groping my stomach… Well, maybe it’s not like that exactly, but I’ll take what I can get.

“That’s not fair,” she whines. “My hands don’t feel cold to you?”

“No. Cold is a drastic understatement. Your hands are colder than the frozen tundra in Antarctica. But don’t worry, I’ll warm them up,” I tell her, waggling my brows. She responds with her typical scowl, but doesn’t move. We stay like this for what feels like hours, until I think we fall asleep.

[ Katniss ]

I love him. I love Peeta. And not just as a friend. I don’t know how it happened, or when it happened, only that I do. I really do. I know it more today than yesterday and less than I will tomorrow. Why the hell couldn’t this snowstorm have happened two months ago, before I realized I loved him? How the hell am I supposed to make it through the next few hours, much less days without him finding out? He can’t find out, he can’t. He’s my best friend, and I would die if I lost him, and I know that’s all we’ll ever be. A friend is the only way he sees me. I’ve come to that realization, no matter how painful it was.

Come on, get it together, Katniss. You can do this—you have to do this. Just…don’t do something stupid…like…kiss him. Or cry.

That’s what I kept telling myself before Peeta stripped us down, before his thick, muscular arms locked securely around my waist. Before the electricity filled every neuron, every atom of my body, making me feel safe. Before I caught sight of his perfect, broad chest in that stupid orange t-shirt. Before he pulled me into his arms and warmed us up using logic. For a moment I thought he looked at me…differently. It felt like…we had a moment. It reminded me of one of those stupid romance movies where the two best friends stare longingly at each other. The chemistry builds and builds, and then they finally kiss, just as the fireworks go off. I’m probably just imagining things, seeing what I want to see, except there was this pull, and then a spark, a jolt of electricity…and then finally, this look that we shared. So, maybe there is hope after all.

I still can’t believe Peeta didn’t so much as flinch when I put my hands on his back. I certainly wasn’t expecting him to grab my hands and move them to his stomach. Oh God, when he did that, I felt another surge of electricity that went straight to my core. MY hands were on Peeta’s rock-hard abs, which were somehow, also soft. How does that even work?

After that, I couldn’t help but snuggle closer into his arms, and we just stared at each other until he drifted off to sleep. But I can’t sleep, not now. The thoughts in my head are racing too much to fall asleep. And there’s not much else I can do without freezing to death other than watch Peeta sleep, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, so that’s what I’m doing.

I never realized how peaceful Peeta looks when he’s asleep. And he looks so much younger. All the worry lines have faded, his stress, too. And how did I never realize how beautiful his lips are…how perfectly they’re shaped? What I wouldn’t give to press my lips to his. And his eyelashes. I always knew they were blond, but were they always this long? It seems like they should get tangled when he blinks.

“K-Katniss? Are you watching me sleep?” Peeta murmurs. I jump, startled, and immediately feel the heat rush to my cheeks at having been caught.

“N-no,” I respond, thankful Peeta’s eyes are still closed, so he can’t witness my humiliation.

“Liar.” He grins, only one corner of his mouth turning up, but his eyes are still slanted shut. I begin to pull away, but his arms latch around my waist. “Don’t go, please.” I let him pull me close, so close that the only place for my head to rest is on his chest. I curl into him, our legs tangling together, and gently rest my head against his chest—just above the place where his heart is, and I could almost swear he lets out a hum of satisfaction.

“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever.” Peeta sighs, disrupting the silence. Chills erupt throughout my entire body, and the butterflies in my stomach try to claw their way out. I wish he wouldn’t say such sweet things; it only gets my hopes up.

I don’t know what to say, so I change the subject. “Peeta, how much longer do you think the power’s going to be out? At this rate we’ll both have died of hypothermia by the time it comes back on.”

“I don’t know, Katniss,” Peeta says, running his fingers through my hair. “But if I died today, then at least I would have died a happy man.”

There he goes again. His words cause every nerve in my body to electrify, and my muscles go rigid. “W-what do you mean?” I want to blame my stuttering on the cold, but every part of my body is warm against Peeta.

“I just mean that…well, you’re my favorite person in the world, Katniss, and you’re here with me. There is no one else I would rather be trapped with, without power and holed up in this tiny room with. Absolutely no one else in the world.”

I try to fight the corners of my lips from turning up, but it’s a losing battle. Why does he have to say such sweet, amazing, and perfect things? Does he know what his words do to me? It’s no wonder I’ve fallen in love with him. I don’t know how it’s even possible, but somehow, I curl my body even more into him. With my eyes closed, I nestle my head against his chest and then feel his arms rest securely around my back. The last thing I remember before succumbing to sleep is the rise and fall of Peeta’s chest, combined with the steady thrum-thrum of his beating heart.

[ Peeta ]

I wake in utter bliss. Katniss’s body is molded against me, her legs entangled with mine and her head nestled in the crook of my arm. If I didn’t have bills to pay, I could easily spend the rest of my life in this position. Not long after I’ve woken, Katniss’s eyes begin to flutter, and her body becomes restless. Her eyes snap open—her beautiful, stormy grey orbs locking with mine. The corners of her lips begin to curve up, but then something startles her, and she nearly sprints off the bed.

“Peeta? W-what are you—” she falters, clearly in a state of confusion. I see her mind running at a million miles per second as she recalls what landed her in my room and in my bed. I knew we should have stayed in her room to wait out the storm, but we both agreed on my room since it’s bigger and has the walk-in bathroom. And the king-sized bed doesn’t hurt.

Katniss’s father died when she was a kid, and for a fleeting time, her mother was incapable of providing a stable home for her and Prim. They moved from one family member’s house to another; they stayed with a handful of friends, and sometimes even hotels. For about two years, they lived out of their suitcases. For the most part, Katniss has moved on from the trauma, but sometimes she still wakes up in the middle of the night in a state of panic, confused as to where she is and how she got there. I imagine this is what’s just happened, since waking up in my room is not a regular occurrence.

“Sorry,” Katniss says, refusing to meet my eyes. She pulls the hair tie from the end of her hair and loosens her braid.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I try to comfort her, but she still avoids my eyes. She runs her fingers through her hair, removing any tangles.

“It’s just…I should be over it by now.”

“Katniss,” I firmly state her name, urging her to look at me. And then she finally does.

“How many times have I woken you up from my bad dreams?”

“Twice,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Come back here; I’m cold,” I say, changing the subject and opening my arms.

“I…let me braid my hair first,” she says hesitantly, still averting her gaze.

“Leave it down. Come here. Please,” I beg her.

She looks at me for a moment, trying to gauge my intentions before she finally concedes. She slips under the covers and curls into my side.

“Were you watching me sleep?” she asks.

“I was just returning the favor,” I say with a grin, remembering when our roles were reversed. “But don’t worry, you didn’t snore. And you scowl at me a lot less when you’re sleeping, so why don’t you doze back off?” Katniss arches her head back to look at me, her brows furrowed, and then that scowl I love so much resurfaces. “See! There’s that scowl I know and love so much!” I can’t help but tease her.

“You’re so mean, Peeta!” Katniss flips onto her side with her arms crossed, refusing to face me. For a second, I’m worried I’ve gone too far.

“Katniss, come on. Please, Katniss, I was just teasing. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I love your scowl, I really do.” I tug on her arm, trying to get her to roll back over, but Katniss is just being Katniss: stubborn and refusing to budge.

“Katniss, please, I really am sorry.”

“Go away. Leave me alone,” she huffs.

“Okay,” I say in the saddest, most pathetic voice I can muster. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, but if I leave the safety of this room, I’m likely to freeze to death.”

“Fine, you can stay in here, but…just leave me alone.” I feel horrible for hurting her feelings. I really was just teasing. Knowing how stubborn Katniss can be, I decide I’ve got to do something to earn her forgiveness.

“Katniss, I’m sorry; I really am. Honestly, I was just teasing—I thought you knew that. But would you please turn back over and look at me, so I can apologize to your face? I need to see those beautiful and gorgeous, stormy grey eyes of yours.” With each word I speak, I can see Katniss’s hard outer shell beginning to chip away. Her stiffened body slowly begins to relax, until finally, she flips onto her side to face me, but keeps her arms crossed protectively over her chest.

“I only turned back over because I’m cold. Not because of…what you said.”

“Well, I do think your eyes are beautiful. Probably the most perfect, stunning, dazzling and incredible set of eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” With her arms still crossed, Katniss narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.

“You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not lying. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried, and unsuccessfully, to capture your eyes on a canvas, and no matter what colors, or combination of colors I use, I can never get them exactly right. Like you, they’re one of a kind.” My words slip out softly, almost in a whisper as I stroke a tendril of Katniss’s hair to the side, finally tucking it behind her ear.

Katniss’s arms finally relax and fall to her sides. Then she looks at me with shiny, glassy eyes. I meet her gaze and try to convey all my love with this look. And then—it happens. The thing I’ve been waiting for. She looks back at me with equal measure…she looks at me like she loves me, too, and not just as a friend. I reach out and run my fingers through her hair, then settle my hand at the base of her head.

She just stares back at me as if breaking eye contact could very well break her. And in this moment, it’s as if time stands still. And I know, without a doubt, this is my moment. Our moment. And it’s finally here.

[ Katniss ]

“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me on Valentine’s Day. Didn’t you have plans with, what’s-her-name, Gidget?” I don’t know what to say after our uncomfortable staring contest, and this seemed to just pop out of my mouth.

“I’m exactly where I want to be, Katniss. There isn’t another person I’d rather spend Valentine’s Day with,” Peeta says, his gaze still locked on me. I’m not sure what’s happening, but something’s happening.

I begin fidgeting with my hair, wishing I’d braided it so I’d have something to keep my hands busy with, something to focus on other than Peeta’s eyes. Then I feel his fingers under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel it, too, Katniss. Am I wrong?”

“I—it—we—I mean,” I stutter, seemingly incapable of forming a single cohesive thought.

“I’m going to kiss you, Katniss, so if you don’t want me to, then tell me. Otherwise—” My heart begins racing frantically as Peeta slowly leans in. It feels as if time is moving in slow motion, but I realize that Peeta is deliberately taking his time, allowing me time to protest.

But I don’t, and if it’s even possible, my heart begins racing even faster by the time his lips meet mine.

The anticipation of his lips against mine floods my senses, sending goosebumps prickling across my entire body. Then, using his elbow to push himself up, he hovers slightly over-top of me. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire, screaming, thrashing—begging for him to do it—to hurry up and kiss me.

Our eyes are trapped in a penetrating gaze as he slowly closes the distance between us and presses his mouth lightly to mine. I’ve dreamed about this moment so many times over so many years, never believing for a second that it would ever become a reality.

And because it’s Peeta, I’d always imagined something beyond amazing. Because Peeta is, without a doubt, beyond amazing. But when our lips connect for the first time, it’s beyond even my wildest dreams. I never could have conjured something this perfect in my dreams, this amazing, this…incredibly, mind-blowingly perfect moment.

The first kiss is soft, sensual, and delicate, but somehow powerful, intense, and magnanimous. It electrifies every sense in my body, even senses I never knew existed. I find myself feeling disappointed when his kisses don’t deepen or intensify, and I wonder if something’s wrong. Then it finally hits me that he’s putting me in control, allowing me to call the shots.

I’ve never really had a serious boyfriend before—well, there was this one, but… I always made the excuse that I didn’t have time for a relationship, between work, school, and taking care of my mother and sister. In hindsight, I think it was this moment I’d always been waiting for. Because it was always Peeta I loved.

I encircle my arms around Peeta’s neck, trapping the back of his head with my hands as I deepen the kiss. It’s in this moment that I wonder what I was so afraid of. I wonder, if I hadn’t been so oblivious, then afraid to admit my feelings, if perhaps we could have had this sooner. How much time and happiness have I stolen—wasted, in the name of fear?

Unsure as to what comes over me, I suck on Peeta’s lower lip and he lets out a pleasurable groan. I can feel his excitement through the thin, almost transparent pajama pants he wears, and in a split second he flips me over, pinning me beneath him. He laces his fingers through mine, then secures our hands above my head. He locks eyes with me, his gaze seeming to penetrate through my soul before he leans in, slamming his mouth to mine. He kisses me deep and hard, intensely, passionately, and fiercely, alternating with soft, sweet, delicate, and gentle kisses. Our tongues collide perfectly in sync, neither fighting for dominance. I seem to know what he’s going to do before he does it and vice versa. It’s as if we’ve perfected the art of kissing, and have been doing this our entire lives.

Finally, we come up for air and lie side by side on Peeta’s massive bed, our bodies automatically curling into the other.

“Wow, that was—” Peeta pants contentedly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Wow,” is all I can think to say, too.

Before I know it, Peeta is back on top of me, nestling himself between my thighs. Our noses are a breadth apart as he stares affectionately at me, his lips curving into a smile. I want so badly to say ‘I love you,’ but this time, not just as my best friend.

“You are so beautiful, Katniss. I could be happy staring at you all day, and literally nothing else,” Peeta whispers, tucking a strand of my wild, unkempt hair behind my ear, and it sends a jolt of electricity swarming through my veins. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Katniss, wanted you since the first day I saw you. Please, tell me this is real. That you want this, too. That this isn’t some, fighting for our lives, stuck without power during a snowstorm, one-time thing.”

I raise a quizzical brow at his statement. “Don’t you think you’re…I don’t know, exaggerating just…slightly?” I ask him.

Now it’s his turn to look bewildered. “To which part are you referring?”

“Since the first time you saw me? We were like…nine years old.”

“When you walked into Miss Trinket’s classroom for the first time, I swear, Katniss, my heart skipped a beat. Even at nine years old, I was mesmerized by your beauty. I remember the red, plaid dress you were wearing, and those cute black and white shoes you still have in your closet. Your hair was in two braids instead of one. But that was just me being infatuated by your beauty. The moment you stole my heart was when Miss Trinket gathered us all for “circle time,” and asked who knew the Valley Song. Your hand shot straight in the air, ready, willing, and eager to volunteer, to share it with everyone. And that’s when it happened. When your nine-year-old self sang that song, I swear Katniss, it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I thought the angels had been sent from the heavens. In fact, it was so beautiful that all the birds outside our classroom fell silent. That was the moment you stole my heart.”

I don’t realize there are tears streaming down my cheeks until Peeta reaches up and wipes them away.

“All this time? You loved me all this time? But…what about all the girlfriends?”

“First of all,” Peeta begins, narrowing his eyes at me. “I’ve only had two girlfriends. I tried not to love you, Katniss. I tried to love someone else—anyone else. Because you were my best friend, and I thought that was all I could ever have. But it was always you I thought about. I know it’s wrong, but when I kissed them, it was your lips I was imagining. Which is why none of my girlfriends ever worked out.”

My heart feels like it’s being squeezed, and my stomach feels as if it’s tying in knots.

“What’s wrong, Katniss? I—I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have—” I hold my hand up to Peeta’s apology, cutting him off.

“Jo and I went for drinks about three weeks ago, and she wanted to test out her psychology skills and decided to “shrink” me. A few hours, and several drinks in, she tricked me into admitting it aloud, and I guess…that made it real. And once I did that, I wasn’t sure how to act around you. I thought if you found out it would make you uncomfortable, and that…it might ruin our friendship. And I couldn’t lose you, Peeta, I just—I couldn’t.” Peeta wipes the moisture from my cheek, and I feel so weak and ashamed for allowing the tears to come.

“What did you admit, Katniss?” Peeta whispers lovingly. Quickly, I look away, afraid to meet his eyes, terrified of what I might see.

“Katniss,” Peeta says more sternly, lifting my chin up. But I keep my eyes squeezed shut, still too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

[ Peeta ]

I can’t believe what just happened. I can’t believe what Katniss just said…or well, implied. I think she means to say she’s in love with me. I can tell she’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to say it, and I don’t want her to hurt, but I need to hear it.

“Katniss,” I whisper her name, hoping she’ll open her eyes and look at me. She doesn’t, but I press on. “I-I thought you always knew how I felt but you just wanted to be friends. And…I just…never said anything because I can’t lose you, either—I was terrified if you knew the truth, I would lose you. And I’d rather have you in my life as nothing more than my best friend, as painful as seeing you with other guys was, but it would have been more painful not to have you in my life at all. Because I love you, Katniss. It’s always been you. And…and I hope what you were trying to say was that it was me that you admitted your feelings to with Jo. Please tell me this is real, that you love me, and as more than just a friend. Because…I would really like to kiss you again.”

Katniss’s cheeks darken, but she finally opens her eyes and looks at me. Her eyes are widened in a state of shock, her pupils swelling, overloading her irises with what I hope is desire. “Y-you love me?” she asks.

I can’t help but chuckle at her question. “You say that like it’s absurd or something.”

“I mean,” Katniss shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, clearly uncomfortable, “it’s just…I’m not that pretty, and I’m not always very nice. I see the way girls look at you; you could have anyone you wanted.”

With our fingers still laced together, I lock them even tighter, binding them above her head, and I slam my mouth against hers. Then I plunge my tongue between her parted lips and hope that I convey my feelings through my kiss. She has to know how much she means to me, how much I love her, and that there will never, ever be anyone who can come even remotely close to her.

“The only person I want—have ever wanted‒is the beautiful woman looking back at me. I love you, Katniss.” I take a deep breath and continue. “I know we just kissed for the first time a few minutes ago, and maybe it’s a little early to say this, but I do, Katniss. I love you.”

“I love you too, Peeta,” I finally hear her say, though it’s a hushed whisper. And it’s with those five words that I lose all my self-control. I wiggle my hands underneath her, so they’re locked around her back. Then I press my body against her, hugging her tight. She entwines her fingers in my hair, tugging my head up and begins kissing me frantically, as if her life depends on it. She continues to tug on my hair, turning my head to the side before she runs her tongue along the length of my neck, kissing and licking and kissing some more. I can’t help the moan that escapes from me, nor can I help the knee-jerk reaction that happens when my pelvis grinds into hers.

“Peeta,” Katniss pants in a breathy moan.

“Oh God, Katniss. We should um…we should probably slow down.” I’m not sure how I mustered up the willpower to utter those words, but somehow, I did.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Katniss says, her voice full of rejection. It’s the last thing I ever want her to feel, so I force her eyes on me.

“I want you, Katniss. God, do I want you. It’s just that I want it to be perfect. For so long I’ve imagined this moment–being with you–and you deserve something special. You deserve everything special. I guess…I don’t want you making a spur of the moment decision based on hormones, only to regret it later.”

“How do you always know the perfect thing to say?” she asks, her eyes fiery with mischief. “Peeta, I don’t need “special”, because for some crazy, out of this world reason, you take the time to make every day special for me. You make me feel like it’s my birthday every day of the year. Don’t you see, you’re all I need, just you.”

It’s with those words that I completely unravel at the seams. I crash my mouth against hers, devouring her lips with my tongue. “God, you are so beautiful and perfect, and just…you’re everything I’ve ever wanted; you’re everything I’ll ever need,” I tell her.

She doesn’t need to say any more; it’s as if we’re on the same wavelength. I shimmy up her perfect, slender body until I’m where I’ve always been meant to be, face to face with the woman of my dreams. I take her face in my hands and press my lips to her mouth. She pulls me on top of her, situating me perfectly between her thighs.

Holding myself up with my elbow, I take a minute to stare into her perfect, stormy grey eyes. I open my mouth, feeling a desperate need to say “I love you,” but she beats me to the punch. Both of our faces stretch with an ear-splitting grin just before we join for the first time. Katniss encircles her legs around my waist, digging her heels into my calves. It is in this moment that I realize, while it is still freezing in my bedroom, we are no longer cold. And with Katniss at my side, I may never be cold again.

“Hey there, Evergreen; I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” The melodic trill of his condescending, yet enchanting voice sends a shiver up my spine and causes the blood to simmer just beneath my skin. I’m not sure if I’m angrier at how my body reacts to him, or the fact that he knows good and well what my last name is. Damn Haymitch for forcing me to attend this farce of a Christmas party.

“Piss off, Mellark.” I slowly pivot on my heels until I’m face to face with Peeta Mellark, twisting my expression into a scowl, void of any emotion. Then I’m spinning on my heels once more and bolting in the other direction. The second I walk away I want to kick myself for my response to him, wishing and wondering why I lack the imagination to come up with something more clever. It isn’t fair and doesn’t seem right for someone so beautiful to be such a self-righteous prick. I don’t understand why, out of the twenty or so co-workers that are crammed into this house, it is always me he is intent on picking on. Whether the office party is at the actual office, or someone’s home, Peeta Mellark never fails to single me out.

I need to put some distance between us so I can think. I make my way to the kitchen and go straight for the punch bowl, which Haymitch has most likely spiked with a gallon of spirits, and proceed to fill my cup to the brim. If I’m to put up with Peeta Mellark for the rest of the night without killing him, I’m going to need a little mind-altering substance.

I feel him getting closer with each step he takes—and dammit, why does my body react to him this way? “I’m sorry, Kathy. I really am.” He looks at me with those beautiful blue eyes, a hint of a mischievous sparkle in them. That’s it. That does it. My blood transforms from a steady simmering to full on boiling in the blink of an eye. I refuse to take his bullying any longer. I don’t care how beautiful he is, how badly I want to pin him against the wall and take him right here; I refuse to allow him to treat me this way.

Nonchalantly, I chug the contents of my cup, then fill it once more. Then I turn to face him, my eyes narrowed into tiny slivers and a deep scowl set on my face. I want to punch his perfectly-shaped nose but settle for emptying the contents of my cup in his face. 

I don’t wait for his reaction; instead, I run straight to the bathroom where I stowed my bag containing a spare change of clothes. I learned my lesson at last year’s Thanksgiving party when Cashmere “accidentally” bumped into me and spilled her glass of red wine all over me and my white shirt. This year I came prepared. I sprint up the steps, taking them two at a time and lock the door behind me. With my back pressed against the door, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and slowly exhale. 

Then I start laughing—no, giggling like a madman. I can’t believe it. I did it! I actually did it. I stood up to him. Me, Katniss Everdeen finally stood up to Peeta Mellark. I allow myself a moment to relish in the fact that for once, I was not the fool before stripping out of my clothes. Peeta must have taken the brunt of the bloody-red punch, but my pristine, white blouse isn’t completely untouched. “I don’t care; it was worth it,” I chuckle to my reflection and then turn the faucet on, in hopes that I can get the stain out. 

I jump, startled when I hear the jiggling doorknob, but then remind myself that I locked it. It’s a good thing, since I’m nearly naked—in nothing but my Christmas bra and matching panties. I’m not even sure why I chose to wear them; it’s not like anyone will see them. 

Suddenly, the door swings open, and of course, out of everyone in this house it has to be Peeta freaking Mellark. Quickly, I swing the privacy curtain out to block his view—I’m more than thankful Haymitch had the good sense to install it; I guess all the nagging after last year’s incident paid off‒for, I refuse to give Peeta one more thing to pick on me about. I mean, I’m not exactly flat-chested, but I’m also not filled to the brim with silicone like some of the other women we work with. At least mine are real, I think silently. 

“Listen, Mellark, you do your thing over there; I’ll do mine over here, and as long as you can keep your mouth shut, we won’t have a problem.” 

“Seriously, Evergreen? You douse me in Haymitch’s go-go juice, and I don’t even get an apology?”

His crystalline voice is full of arrogance and dammit—why does the sound of his voice cause my body to tingle in places it shouldn’t? 

I slip my arms into the shirt sleeves and begin to button it up, all the while, feeling the anger radiate up my face. That’s it. I’ve had it. I can’t take anymore of his shit. I swing the privacy curtain open, completely forgetting that I don’t have my skirt on yet. I am in nothing more than my red blouse, my lower half completely bare for him to see. 

“My name is Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. Not Kathy. Not Evergreen. Katniss Everdeen, and you know that. You know my eff-ing name. So why? What is your problem, Mellark? Do you enjoy pissing me off? Are you a dick, or is it that I bring out your inner jackass?” 

He grins that crooked grin that melts my insides, causing my stomach to stir as if near starvation way, and I remind myself that I hate him. “You’re the one who threw punch in my face. And by the way, Haymitch’s spirits burns when it gets in your eyes. Oh yeah, and thanks for ruining my shirt.” He doesn’t seem the least bit frazzled or upset by the fact that I ruined what was probably a two-hundred-dollar suit shirt. 

“AGH!” I thunder, appalled at his insinuation. “You walk around here all high and mighty, like you’re God’s gift to women or something, but you can’t even get my name right. You are such a narcissistic, self-righteous, pompous jackass, who—”   

It happens so fast I don’t have time to react, yet it feels like we’re in slow motion at the same time. My words are cut short when he closes the distance between us, lifts me into his arms, cups the back of my head, and slams his mouth against mine. He runs his tongue along my lips for a moment before plunging it deep in my mouth. It feels so good, so heavenly and right that I forget to protest. The electricity—or chemistry—or whatever it was I felt before has nothing on the sensation of our locked lips, or the feeling his body against my own. I tangle my hands into his mop of gorgeous blond hair, wrapping my legs securely around his waist. 

God, he feels amazing. It’s as if we were meant to fit together. It’s like when you’re working on a jigsaw puzzle and after searching for what feels like eternity, you finally find that one perfect, missing piece. It feels as if he is my missing piece. Everything about him, the way his body molds around me, the impeccable precision of his tongue gliding in my mouth, in perfect synchronicity with mine, almost as if we were meant for each other. 

Even though my legs are locked so tightly, like a vice around his waist, Peeta’s hands grip firmly onto my ass to hold me up. He spins us around and sets me on the counter of the sink. His hands tangle in my hair and he continues kissing me. His lips trail from my lips, down my neck, until he reaches my collarbone. I release a sigh of pleasure, which is the sound that jolts me back to reality. 

Why are we kissing when I hate him? I ask myself before shoving him off me. 

“What the hell—” I exclaim, bolting to the other side of the bathroom, to where I’m securely behind the safety of the privacy curtain. 

“Katniss, please. I—I’m sorry.” My anger slowly ebbs when I hear my name—my real, actual name‒escape his lips. So, he does know my name. 

I pull my spare skirt from my bag and quickly shimmy it up my waist before he opens the curtain. Once I’m fully dressed, I decide to face him and open the privacy curtain. I try to ignore the magnetic force pulling me toward him and remind myself once more that I hate this man. 

I try to storm past him, needing to escape this bathroom, but he grabs my arm. “Please, Katniss. I’m sorry. I really am.” I turn to meet his eyes, which look genuinely apologetic. I don’t think he’s joking, and maybe this is just a trick to make me look like a fool, but his eyes—his eyes hold me in place. 

The internal debate in my head is exhausting, and I’m so confused. 

It’s another prank to make you look like a fool. 

No. He is sincere, just look at his eyes. 

You’re just a game to him. Another notch in his belt. 

Look into his eyes. 

Against my better judgement, I decide to hear him out. 

“I’m a jackass, a shithead. A piece of shit scum bag and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Katniss. It’s just … you intimidate me. The truth is I—I’ve liked you from the first moment I saw you, but I could tell you weren’t like other girls. You weren’t—aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met. So … I—I’ve been a jerk.” 

This has to be a prank. There is no way he could like me. He is Peeta Mellark. Sexy, charming, broad-shouldered, a perfect body, and an ass that fills out his pants perfectly. And I am Katniss Everdeen, the orphaned loner girl who no one can remember her name. I’m selfish, and I scowl too much. And as Haymitch likes to remind me, I have the personality of a dead slug. “Yeah right” is all I say. 

“The first day I saw you, your hair was in two braids instead of one,” he begins, tugging on the ends of my hair. “You had on a red plaid skirt. I was so mesmerized watching you from my office all day. I spent the entire day trying to work up the courage just to introduce myself. Then, later that day I went into the break room and heard the most beautiful, exquisite voice that ever existed. You were humming this tune. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was, but when I went home that night, and I couldn’t get your voice out of my head, I kept playing it over and over in my head until I figured it out. It was the Valley Song.” 

I force my mouth closed after realizing I’m standing there with it hanging open. There is no way he could be making this up. I remember that day, too. Granted, I don’t remember what I was wearing, but I know he’s telling the truth about hearing me humming in the break room. “But … why? Why have you been so horrible to me all this time?” 

“It took me four and a half days to finally work up the courage to speak to you. I had it all planned out in my head. I was going to ask you to get a drink, and you would hesitantly say yes. I would open the door for you like a gentleman, and we would head over to Sae’s. We’d both be a little nervous at first, but then I would ask you a question, which would jump-start conversation after conversation. We’d get to know each other and work our way to the deep stuff. But then … I spent so much time convincing myself that—that, well, I had just missed you. Then I looked outside and saw Gale opening his car door for you. And then you guys drove away. I guess … I was jealous. I’m so sorry, Katniss. Can you—do you think we could start over? That you could forgive me?” 

I don’t mean to, and I can’t seem to help it, but I start laughing. “You thought that me and Gale? That we were … together?” I bite the inside of my cheek to straighten my face when I see the pain in Peeta’s eyes. “Gale is like …my brother. We’ve known each other since we were little kids. My car was in the shop and he was giving me a ride home.” 

Peeta forces a smile onto his lips and gives me a slight nod. “I understand if you don’t—I mean, I have been a Grade-A jerk and certainly don’t deserve—” 

This time, it’s my turn to shut him up. I lean up on my toes, encircle my arms around his neck and press my lips to his. He reciprocates, settling his hands on my hips and pulling me in closer. 

“So, that’s a yes?” Peeta mumbles with our lips still connected. 

“Mmm hmm,” I mumble and nod, not wanting the kiss to end. 

Peeta and I manage to disentangle from the other, and I leave him to get cleaned up. I apologize for tossing the punch in his face and ruining his shirt. My stomach flips and turns when he smiles and says, “I’d let you do it again and again as long as it brought me to you.” 

I find my way to the kitchen and get a fresh drink, feeling an extra pep in my step. I’m leaning against the wall of the doorframe when Peeta comes back downstairs. He looks at me with the biggest, goofiest, toothiest grin and comes barreling straight toward me. He takes my cup from my hands and hands it to Jo. Then he leans me backwards, supporting my head with his hands and kisses me full on the mouth. With tongue. Right there, in front of everyone. 

“Are ya listenin’ to me, Peeta? Because what I’m ‘bout to tell ya is important. Maybe the most important words you’ll ever hear.”

My seven-year-old self eagerly nods my head up and down as my grandpa swoops me off the ground, swinging me in the air, and then plopping me down on his knee. Grandpa narrows his eyes seriously at me, and I try my best to return his gaze.

“Now, listen and listen good, son, cause I won’t be ‘round forever.” I nod again, so Grandpa knows he has my full attention. “If you don’t remember anything I’ve taught ya, then ya gotta remember this. The best things in life require an abundance of patience, persistence, and hard work. Do you know what those words mean?”

I press a finger to my chin and look up as I repeat the words in my head.

“Patience means you wait for something calmly, sometimes for a long time,” Grandpa says.

“Oh! Like when Daddy’s baking cookies and I have to wait for the timer to go ‘ding’. And then I have to wait for them to get cooled,” I say, lighting up with a smile at having correlated the two.

“Yeah, something like that. Anyway. Persistence means you don’t give up. And well, hard work, that word is self-explanatory.” Grandpa pauses, his wrinkled lips forming into a straight line. “What I’m trying to tell you, Peeta, is anything worth fighting for don’t come easy. You see, one day, son, you’ll meet a woman who’ll make you crazy. She’ll turn your world upside down and inside-out. She won’t take none of your crap. That’s the kind of woman you hold on to. And if she tries to be slippery, then you fight for her with all you got. You prove yourself to be worthy. But most importantly, Peeta, remember that she’s always right.”

I smile at the memory, wondering if my grandfather somehow had a glimpse into the future. At seven years old his words only served to confuse me. At the time, girls were gross and had cooties, and I simply could not fathom the idea of chasing after any girl. For so many years I thought of the last words the wisest man I had ever known had given me. And for so many years they never quite made sense.

That is, until I met the love of my life. My best friend, my soul mate, my other half. The woman Grandpa described to me as a child summed Katniss up to a tee. She was like a wild animal, free, untamed, and lived by no one’s rules but her own. And she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. However, with Grandpa’s advice of patience, persistence, and an abundance of hard work, I finally got her to crack.

And here I am, three years later; my relationship with Katniss stronger than ever.

I make the turn onto Seam Street and park my car outside of Katniss’s apartment complex. I reach into my pocket for my phone to let Katniss know I’m coming up, but then decide to surprise her instead.

Katniss and I are supposed to meet at District 12, her favorite restaurant for our “Valentine’s Day Dinner Date,” but I left my wallet on her nightstand. I get out of my car and reach into my other pocket, grinning from ear to ear when I feel the tiny black velvet box.

Eager to set eyes on my mighty huntress, I take the steps two at a time and feel the vibration of someone’s blaring music.

“Uh-oh,” I say, wondering if the music is coming from Katniss’s apartment. She has the tendency to blast her music when she gets in one of her “deep cleaning” moods, or if she’s stressed out. I’m hoping it’s the former.

Once I reach the door to her apartment, I fetch my keys and let myself in, only to get blasted by her music when I open the door. I quietly close the door behind me, not that she can hear me, anyway, and toe my shoes off. When I turn around, my heart swells inside my chest at the sight before me.

“I was wondering where those boxers went,” I mutter to myself through a grin. Katniss is still oblivious to my presence, so I take a moment just to admire her. She’s rocking my favorite pair of orange boxers, along with one of my shirts as she dance-vacuums her way around the living room.

But that isn’t what has my heart pounding so hard in my chest. It’s the subtle aroma radiating from beneath the flickering flame of the candle perched on the kitchen table. I inhale deeply, and my nostrils are filled with the refined scent of artificial vanilla. Maybe sugar cookies? Or perhaps cupcakes.

Ready to make my presence known, I sneak up behind Katniss, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. Katniss nearly leaps in the air from my sudden touch.

Her smile could literally light up the room, and if my heart could smile, I think it would, knowing that I am the cause of that smile. She reaches for the remote and powers off the music, then circles her arms around my neck.

“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” she mumbles into my neck.

“I missed you, and well, I forgot my wallet,” I tell her, inhaling another whiff of vanilla. “What is that? Did you bake something?” I ask, knowing good and well it’s the candle.

“Oh, huh…what?” Katniss gives me a bemused expression just before her eyes go wide with realization. Quickly, she zips across the room to the kitchen table and promptly blows out a puff of air, extinguishing the flame from the candle.

“What’d you do that for? I thought it smelled good. When did you start burning candles, anyway?”

Katniss shrugs her shoulders dismissively. “The apartment was smelling musty. Opening the windows didn’t work, neither did air freshener, so I grabbed a candle at the grocery store.”

“Okay,” I tell her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and not pressing the issue. Then I head into the kitchen to get a cup of water. It’s hard, very hard to keep my lips from stretching across my face, but somehow, I manage it.

I make my way back to the living room and plop down on the sofa. I set my glass on the side table and check my watch. “I need to run home and get a few things done. Do you want to meet at District 12, or do you want me to swing by and pick you up?”

Katniss’s body seems to slump at my statement. “Actually, I was thinking,” she begins, twirling the end of her braid—something I know she does when she’s nervous. “Since you’re already here, maybe we should just…um, take one car. I mean—unless you need to do your things right now.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I beam, finally allowing my lips to curve into the cheesy grin they’ve been dying to since the moment I got here. Then I motion with my finger for her to come here. I didn’t actually have errands to attend to; I just wanted to leave Katniss’s options open, but to say I am elated would be a drastic understatement.

Katniss’s face lights up with a grin as she sprints to the couch and pounces right into my lap, straddling a leg on either side of my hips. Then she hooks her arms around my neck, pressing her mouth—and her body, flush against mine. I part my lips, welcoming the assault from her tongue. In the moment of heated kisses, I reach around and feel my way up Katniss’s back, digging my fingers deep into her muscles, which results in a moan, a sigh, and a groan of pleasure escaping from her lips.

“My God, how are you so good at that? And how do you always know the right spots?” Katniss grinds into me, readily accepting my wet kisses against her neck.

I know I’m going to hate myself for this, but I spent too much time preparing for tonight to just stay in with my girlfriend. Even if it feels so damn good…

“Katniss…I—we should—”

“Mmm hmm,” she moans, vibrating against my lips. Dammit.

“Go get dressed, baby—um…dinner. Plans…remember?” I manage to stumble out, hopefully enough words for her to understand my meaning.

“I don’t mind if we skip dinner,” she says, pressing her chest to mine as she teases my neck with kisses.

If I don’t stop her now we’ll never make it out of here, so I grab her hands and lock my eyes with hers. “Go get ready, and I promise to fully satisfy all of your hunger needs tonight. Trust me, I have big plans for you.”

Her eyes darken, and the corner of her lip twitches into a smirk. “Oh, do you now?” she says, hopping off my lap, and I give her ass a smack before she runs off to her room.

“How fancy is this place?” Katniss shouts from her bedroom.

“Nice enough to wear a dress,” I call back, not wanting to give too much away.

“What kind of dress, though? Like…dinner-with-your-mother-kind-of-dress, or—”

“No, no. Not that kind,” I jump in, feeling slightly queasy at the thought.

“Oh, thank God.” Katniss exhales a sigh of relief, her thought process mirroring my own.

“Okay, I’m ready. What do you think?” About half an hour later, Katniss comes traipsing down the hall, twirling once when she reaches the living room.

My jaw falls slack at the sight of my girlfriend. I knew she would look stunning in a dress—I find her glamorous in her PJ’s. But Katniss has somehow managed to dress in my favorite—everything. From the flowing, dark emerald green dress that stops just above her knees, to the matching, open-toed sandals on her feet. I can’t take my eyes off her as she models the open-backed dress for me, exposing her beautiful olive-toned skin with the nearly transparent straps that cling to her shoulders. But I’m the only one who knows this because of the dress’s matching shawl that hangs loosely draped across her shoulders. 

But the real gem of the evening is hanging around her neck and between her perfect, and slightly protruding, collar bones is the necklace I gave her on our three-year anniversary. Her hair lacks its usual braid, instead it hangs loose in deep, thick waves, pulled around to one side of her shoulder.

“W-wow,” I manage to stutter. “Y-you’re so beautiful,” I tell her, closing the distance between us and kissing her full on the lips. Katniss has never been the type of woman that spends hours primping in front of a mirror, but she doesn’t need to. Katniss is naturally perfect and beautiful without the added makeup, hair product, and artificial enhancements that so many women spend fortunes on. However, all she has to do is put forth the least bit of effort and it puts her over the top—beyond magnificent.

“Are you ready?” Katniss asks, motioning toward the door.

…..

“I liked your new candle,” I say with a knowing, crooked grin from the seat across from my girlfriend at her favorite restaurant. District 12 serves the best lamb stew with wild rice and dried plums.

“About that,” Katniss hesitates, pulling her hands out of mine. Her right hand automatically reaches up to twirl a lock of her hair, a sign that she’s nervous. “I have a…sort of confession.”

I reach back over and grab onto Katniss’s hands, locking my eyes on the gorgeous, stunning beauty that is my girlfriend. “Sort of?” I ask, feeling a wave of heat prickle up my back. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” Katniss rushes to say, squeezing my hands for reassurance. “It’s about the um…candle.” I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I know in my heart of hearts that Katniss loves me, but there is always this tiny little pestering voice in the back of my head, which oftentimes takes on the voice of my mother. And the voice is constantly trying to make me second guess myself. “I um…well, it’s just that…if I tell you this you better not make fun of me.”

“Katniss.” I pull back with narrowed eyes, slightly offended at the insinuation.

“I know, I know, but I…I just had to say it. But well…it’s just that sometimes I miss you.” Katniss shrugs her shoulders, refusing to meet my eyes. “And I bought the candle because the smell reminded me of you. And so, when I’m missing you and can’t see you, the candle kind of…tides me over until I do get to see you.” Katniss breathes a sigh of relief at her confession. “See, I told you it was stupid.”

I squeeze Katniss’s hands, then lean over the table to get closer to her. “Katniss, it isn’t stupid at all. It’s no different than when I steal that giant sweatshirt you sometimes sleep in. Or when I don’t want to wash my pillow cases because they smell like you.”

“I love you, Peeta,” Katniss says with darkening cheeks and eyes. Then she leans forward, her lips melting into mine.

…..

“Are we there?” Katniss asks anxiously for the third time.

“Almost, baby,” I tell her as I lead her down the narrow and winding path. I can’t believe she actually let me blindfold her; I guess it’s just one more affirmation that tonight will go as planned. 

Finally, we’ve reached our destination, and I slow us down to a stop, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. “Tell me something, Katniss, what do you smell?”

“Huh?” She asks, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“Just because you can’t see doesn’t mean you can’t…see,” I tell her. “Use your other senses, Katniss,” I explain after her continued bewildered expression.

Katniss inhales a deep, cleansing breath through her nose. “I smell…” she begins, still absorbing her surroundings. She takes another deep breath, recognition filling her features. “Trees!” she finally exclaims. “And…birds…chirping high up in the trees…and…branches swaying. Squirrels…Peeta, are we…are we in the woods?” She asks, unable to contain the glee from her voice.

“Are you ready?” I ask her.

Katniss doesn’t respond; instead, she impatiently yanks the blindfold over her head. I can barely make out her disappointed expression through the darkness.

I click the tiny little button in my pocket before she has time to utter a single word. Then suddenly, everything around us transforms into the most beautiful sight. Katniss gasps as she looks around, taking it all in. At first, I can tell she’s overwhelmed by the thousands and thousands of white, twinkling lights. I spent much of the week stringing the lights—everywhere. Over the fence, wrapped around trees; there are even lights outlining a path on the ground that leads to a set of steps. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust, but I know the exact moment she realizes where we are.

“Oh my God, Peeta!” she croons, turning to face me and circling her arms around my neck. “We’re at…you brought me to Mockingjay Park. This is…it’s where my dad would bring me when I was a little girl!” she cries, pressing her lips to mine and pulling me closer. “I just…I love it and it’s the most amazing surprise; it’s just…I kind of wish I knew beforehand, so I could’ve brought my bow.”

“You mean…” I’m more than thankful I thought ahead as I reach behind me, seemingly producing Katniss’s bow out of thin air, along with the quiver containing the sheath of arrows.

Katniss’s emotion seems to burst inside her, and she jumps into my arms, hugging her legs around my waist. I grab onto her, cupping my hand under her ass so she doesn’t fall, and she attacks my mouth with kisses. “Every time I think I can’t possibly love you any more…every time you do something amazing, and I think: “There’s no way he can top this,” and you go and prove me wrong. I love you, Peeta Mellark. I swear, I fucking love you,” she professes, locking her hands around my neck and tangling her fingers through my hair.

Eventually, she wiggles out of my arms, excited to finally be able to use her bow.

“We’ve got the entire park to ourselves for the next two hours,” I inform her, handing her the bow and arrows.

Katniss raises a brow. “You mean…”

I nod, unable to quell my goofy grin. “The entire park is ours; there isn’t a single soul for miles. So…why don’t you take your shoes off, and let’s walk to the range.”

Katniss doesn’t need to be told twice. She kicks her heels off, and together, we walk across the field and toward the row of targets.  

“This is too easy; I think we need to up the ante,” I call out to Katniss after thirty minutes of watching her hit bullseye after bullseye.

“What do you suggest?” Katniss turns around, smirking at the compliment.

I get up and make my way toward the target, and this confuses Katniss.

“Wh—Peeta, what are you doing? Get back over here.”

Katniss holds her position at the fifty-foot mark by the time I’ve reached the target. When I first made these Valentine’s plans for Katniss, I never intended on proposing. It was supposed to be just like any other ordinary date night. But Katniss’s confession at dinner is what changed my mind. I just didn’t know how I’d do it until now.

With my back pressed against the target, I hold my head up high, brazen with a confidence I didn’t realize I possessed. Then, my hand plunges into my pocket and digs out the small, velvety box that contains Katniss’s precious ring. Quickly, before I lose my nerve, I pull the box out and place it on my head. “You’re going to hit this target.” I state firmly. Confidently.

“Peeta—what? No—no, you’re nuts,” Katniss says, shaking her head dismissively.

“What? You don’t think you can do it? I thought you were up for a challenge?” I can’t help but taunt her.

She takes the bait. I see the flaring of her nostrils; I can almost see the steam shooting from her ears as her knuckles turn white from gripping tighter onto her bow.

“Fine!” Katniss hisses back. “But it’s your funeral,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Katniss,” I call out as she readies herself. She spins around on her heels, meeting my eyes.

“Yes?”

“I trust you.”

The corners of her lips slowly curve up into a mischievous grin. If there is one thing I know about Katniss, it’s that she is literally incapable of refusing a dare. And that’s basically what I just did. I dared her.

I straighten my back, so it’s flat against the target as I admire my beautiful, amazing, and talented girlfriend. I’ve seen her do this a million times, yet somehow, she amazes me every single time.

Suddenly, the butterflies in my stomach feel as if they have just grown claws, flapping their wings and filling me with so much love for this woman as they search for an escape. My heart is pounding against my chest, but my anxiety is not about whether or not she’ll hit me, but what her answer will be.

I decide to focus all my attention on Katniss as she goes through her routine. She always stands taller on the first inhale, the one that steadies her nerves. I envision her lungs expanding with the fresh, winter air. Then, she holds the precious gas in place for a moment before pursing her lips, slowly releasing the remaining oxygen, all her anxiety dissipating along with it. Then I watch intently as Katniss mouths the words, “One, two, three.” Her beautiful, delicate fingers pull the bowstring tight, and then, just like that, the arrow is released into the air, soaring, flying, gliding—and headed straight toward my head.

The arrow soars gracefully as it glides through the air. My heart accelerates as it gains speed, the space between myself and the arrow shortening, lessening, yet I am not the least bit afraid. My eyes remain locked on a frozen Katniss when the arrow slams into its target, impaling the little black box above my head. How I did not so much as flinch as the arrow made its impact goes to show my trust in the beautiful woman—who is now hauling ass toward me.

It feels like it happens in slow motion. Katniss doesn’t wait for the arrow to make impact, but rather, the second it’s released into the air, her bow and quiver of arrows crash to the ground. Fear is written all over her face; it’s as if she’s only just now realized what she’s done. Then she’s running full force, making a beeline straight toward me, trying to outrun the arrow.

In the time it takes her to run to me, I’ve already removed the arrow from the “target,” inspected the contents of the ring box, and slammed the lid closed.

“You stupid, stupid, idiot!” she screams, cries, slamming into me and crashing us to the ground. She pulls back for a second, scanning my body for injuries before pinning me back to the ground and slamming her lips against mine. “I could have killed you; you could have died! I can’t lose you, Peeta. Do you know what that would do to me? Don’t you ever, ever, ever do that again!”

Katniss is crying so hard that it’s brought on the hiccups, and she’s struggling to breathe. “Katniss, baby, calm down. I’m okay, I’m fine. I was never in any danger. Don’t you see? I trust you with my life.” I hold her face firmly in my hands, forcing her to look into my eyes. But her shiny, glassy eyes and tear-streaked face is filled with sheer terror, which is like a knife in my gut. I really hadn’t expected her to react this way.

Katniss collapses on top of me, resting her head on my chest. Realizing that in all the commotion I dropped the ring box, I look around until I spot the box, and quickly scoop it up.

“Come here, sit up,” I tell her, pulling us up into a sitting position. She sniffles but complies.

We’re sitting Indian Style across from each other on the grass. I’ve got the box clutched firmly in my hand when my mouth seems to start moving on its own. “Katniss, I…I know you never wanted this. You told me so on our first date. But, Katniss, I—there’s no me without you. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone—only you. Just you.” This isn’t going anything like I planned it, even though I didn’t actually plan it. For someone who is so good with words, I’m a blubbering mess. So, I release my grip on the box and open my hand to Katniss.

She takes the box, then looks up at me, her stormy, gray eyes wide with shock, her mouth agape. “P-Peeta?” she questions.

“Katniss, please, just…just let me,” I beg her, and she nods. “Katniss, you are my other half. My soul mate. You complete me. Everything about you is perfect, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. And even if you don’t want to get married, that’s fine. I’d be happy and content to continue as we have been. But I was hoping…thinking that maybe you felt the same way.”

There is a pregnant pause as she continues staring at me. My heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest as I await her response. “P-Peeta, a-are you ask—?”

I nod, and the smile that stretches across her face could light up this entire park. “You have to say it, Peeta. You have to ask the question if you want an answer.” She grins.

I know what she means. She wants me to do it right. So, I pull myself off the ground, crouching on a single knee and taking the black box from her hand. I open it, so it’s facing her, and ask the million-dollar question.

“Katniss Everdeen, my best friend, my other half, the love of my life, will you make me the happiest man in all the galaxies and take me as your husband? Put up with me when I’m smelly and grumpy, and allow me to make you cheese buns for the rest of our days?”

Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and she can’t seem to get rid of the ear-splitting grin breaking her face as she nods her head fiercely up and down. Then she offers her hand to me, her fingers equidistantly spaced apart so that I can slide the ring onto her finger.

Once the ring is on, she brings it closer to her face to inspect it and says, “It’s perfect.” Then, she once again tackles me to the ground. With a leg straddled on either side of my hips, she pins my hands on either side of my face and presses her lips to mine.

“So, what are we going to do with our last hour?” She whispers into my ear.

“Damn, Brainless, you look hot.  Sexy kitty cat really suits you!  Remind me to rig the next office reaping again!”

I nearly give myself whiplash processing Jo’s words.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I sneer, cutting her with my eyes.

“Oh, come on!  You needed to get out of your element.  Your wardrobe could outfit ten nuns for a month— I mean seriously, what’s with all the cardigans?  I mean … I’m down with leaving something for the imagination, but shit, how creative are you gonna force the poor guy to get?  I mean,” Jo waggles her brows, prompting my scowl to resurface, “I’ll never get rid of you if you keep hiding the goods.”

“How sweet,” I say dryly, sending her a warning glare, urging her to choose her next words wisely.  “Whatever happened to easing into a transition? I mean, you took me from zero to sixty in like … point three micro-seconds.  I look like a freaking prostitute.” Raising my hands in the air, I rotate a full 360°, averting my eyes to avoid my reflection in the mirror.

“Shut up, Brainless, and you should know by now that moderation is not my strong suit.  And no, you do not look like a prostitute.  Just a very sexy, very vapid … kitty.” Jo grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief.  “In heat,” she adds. 

I roll my eyes and prepare to storm off when she grabs my arm.  “Seriously, Brainless, you look gorgeous and sexy and hot,” she says, her sincerity taking me by surprise.  “You’ve got one bangin’ ass bod—I don’t understand why you try so hard to hide it.  Besides, if Cheese Buns doesn’t notice you tonight, then he’s definitely gay.”  I fidget uncomfortably at her statement.  ‘Cheese buns’ is the code name we use at work when we’re talking about Peeta. 

Peeta Mellark, I sigh, thinking his name.  He’s been my best friend since college and I’m certain the only man that will own my heart till the day I die.

“He’s coming tonight, right?” Jo inquires.

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. “Dunno.  He said he might swing by.” I try not to seem affected at the prospect of seeing him—or not seeing him.

“Are you sure about this, Jo? I mean, this seems a bit … excessive.” I study my reflection, actually surprised that I don’t look more … sleazy.

After I lost the bet with Jo, she granted herself full creative license in selecting my costume for the Halloween shindig that Annie and Finnick are hosting.  My suspicions should have been on high alert when I got home that night to see the solid black unitard smirking back at me as it gently swayed on its hanger, with matching black leggings draped neatly inside of it.  “A kitty cat for my Kitty Kat,” she crooned proudly, as if it was the most brilliant thing in the world.

“Here,” Jo spins me around, fumbling with something on my butt and I instinctually jerk away from her. “Be still, unless you want this safety pin clipped to your ass,” she warns me.

Her choice for my costume may have been simple, but her idea for my hair was not.  After washing, conditioning, then rinsing my hair, she took her giant blow torch to it, but not before caking it with pounds of sticky hair product. 

“Geez, Jo, that hurts!” I whine, wincing from the pain for the millionth time when she tugs on my hair a little too hard.

“Hmrmsjwih,” she mumbles, the bobby pin between her lips muffling her words. From the corner of my eye, I see that devilish curve of her lips—but not in time before the force of her hand meets the back of my head. “No, that hurts,” she affirms.  “Now, quit bitchin’ like a baby; I’m almost done,” she chides before reaching over to grab the giant bottle of hairspray, smogging me with its fumes. “Voila! All done!” she exclaims, handing me the mirror and my mask.

With the mirror gripped in my hand, I open my eyes slowly, afraid that Jo has transformed me into some kind of playboy, prostitute, hookered up, sex kitten.

“Ohh, Jooo,” I gasp out my bewilderment, not recognizing the beautiful creature staring back at me. But it is me, Katniss Everdeen, just …upgraded. Being the miracle worker Jo is, she has worked her magic and enhanced everything about me. My lashes are lush and vibrant, my eyes illuminated with smokey features. Jo has my eyes traced in her signature, jet-black eyeliner, which accentuates my ordinary, grey eyes. And my face radiantly shimmers—almost as if it’s sparkling. My lips are painted a mixture of deep mauve and maroon. “I’m—you made me beautiful,” I falter, stunned with disbelief.

“Oh, Kitty Kat, you have much to learn,” Jo sighs, “’sides, I didn’t do anything,” she finishes.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? What do I have to learn?” I fume, my defenses rising.

“True love does not see with its eyes. Only the heart. Now shut your trap and let’s roll out.”

I do as I’m told, but not without cutting her with my eyes once more. I grab my bag, refusing to leave the house without my backup shoes, knowing that I’ll be doing good to simply make it to the car.

The prospect of seeing Peeta tonight has turned me into a nervous wreck, and to make matters worse, I somehow unknowingly agreed to ride with Jo in her metal death contraption. Since my car is in the shop and Finnick’s house is too far to walk, my choices are not plenty. And there’s also the fact that Jo and I are roommates, so I guess it makes sense … decreasing our carbon footprint, protecting the environment and all that. I know she’s a safe driver; it’s just …I don’t do well with relinquishing control. 

I sling my bag into the tiny backseat of her sports car and double—triple check that my seat belt is secure. Then I close my eyes, inhaling a deep, calming breath to steady my nerves as I willingly put my life in Jo’s hands for the duration of our fifteen-minute drive to Finnick’s house. 

My phone buzzes in my hands, and I’m thankful for the mindless task to occupy my attention. I swipe the screen to see who it is and smile from ear to ear when I see it’s Peeta’s perfect, beautiful face that fills the screen.

Peeta: See you at Fannie’s tonight?

Katniss: Unfortunately. Jo has taken me hostage. Did you ever decide on a costume?

Peeta: Yep.

Katniss: And…

Peeta: Not telling. See you there.

“Either that was Cheese Buns or your ass bumped its on switch—cuz the light’s shining out your ears,” Jo quips, breaking my concentration, replacing my grin with a scowl.  And then I do a double take as I notice Jo’s car at a complete standstill in front of a gas station.

“What are—” My brows knit with confusion when she hands me her credit card.

“What is—” I question, confusion clouding my features. Surely, she isn’t asking me what I think she is—she wouldn’t dare.  Then her lips curve up into a sinister grin, confirming my suspicions.

“I promised Finnick I’d pick up a case of beer.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Okay, so go get it.”

“I left my ID at Finnick’s—”

“OH! HELL NO! You are out of your ever-loving mind if you think I am going in there dressed like some Siamese Cheshire cat from Wonderland!”

“Come on, Kitty, pleeeaassee?” she whines. “It’s Halloween—the cops are hot tonight.  They’ll turn me away in a heartbeat,” Jo pleads, pouting her lips. “Come on, you owe me.”

My face contorts into a grimace. Jo is playing dirty, and she knows it. She’s always known the exact words that will get me to bend to her will. I huff out a groan in defeat.    I pout for another moment, releasing an exasperated sigh, then give her my signature death scowl before snatching the plastic card from her hand. Then I unstrap my belt and exit the car, slamming the door in her face. I march my way into the store—ungracefully at that—and intentionally pick the one I know Jo hates.

“That was mean,” I spit the words out, slamming the door behind me.

“Oh, shut up. You know you love me.”

“Shut up,” I hiss like the cat I’m supposed to be, but it doesn’t faze Jo. She knows just as well as I do how much I love her.  Otherwise, bet or no bet, she’d be going to this party alone.

________

 “It is I, Lord Poseidon!” A drunken Finnick greets us at the door in nothing more than what looks like a napkin held together by some strings. 

“Hey, guys.” Annie appears from behind Finnick and gives us an equally wasted but apologetic smile. “Don’t mind his Lord Poseidon,” she giggles, snatching the red, plastic cup from his hand and draining its contents. “The master of the house is already on his fourth cup.”

Finnick licks his lips hungrily, eyeing me up and down. “And who is this sexy kitty ca—?” his words fall short as he realizes who I am. “Holy— Katniss, is that you?” he asks bewildered, leaning in a little closer than I’d like. Everyone at the office knows Finnick is head over heels for Annie, but that doesn’t stop him from laying on the Odair charm to every woman in the building.

“Here’s your beer, Finnick; now where can I get something a little stronger?” Jo strides in behind me and slams the case of beer into Finnick’s arms. Then she drags me to the kitchen where we make ourselves a ‘grown-up’ drink. “Damn, I have to give Cresta credit … she is one confident woman,” Jo says, admiring Finnick’s backside.

I shrug my shoulders in agreement. Sure, Finnick is definitely the perfect specimen of a man, but he just doesn’t do it for me.

“So, what happened to the shindig?” I ask with sarcasm laced in my tone. Jo and I mingle in the kitchen—or, well, Jo mingles in the kitchen, and I stick by her side like a trusty sidekick. Finnick’s house is spectacular; it’s clear Annie had a hand in the decorations. What was supposed to be an intimate gathering of a handful of people from work has turned into something that reminds me of a block party you might see on T.V.  It feels as if I have been transported to a haunted house. There are those tiny plastic spiders-rings in various hues of orange and black strewn atop fake spiderwebs that are netted from wall to wall. Life-sized skeletons, Freddy Kruegers, and Jasons sit atop the tables and propped up in chairs.  There is even a witch’s cauldron steaming above their fireplace in the living room.

I apathetically scan the room, hoping to see Peeta when I am instantly thankful that Jo forced me into this costume. Well, maybe not this costume, but … just … a costume in general. There isn’t a soul here who isn’t completely made up, decked out in their Halloween finest. I have never seen so much black and orange, witch’s hats, and vampire fangs as I do tonight.  My lips curve up when I glance around the room a second time, thinking how Halloween really brings out the ‘kid’ in everyone.

I (try to) casually look for any sign of Peeta as Jo and I mingle with our co-workers, sipping on our martinis, while trying to guess who everyone is.  I begin to feel the effects of my ‘Ghost-ini’ after the third one. “We just need to find you some arm candy and you’ll be like, Peeta who?” My cheeks flame with heat at how loud her words were, and I jab my elbow into her side, hoping she gets the message. But then I realize she could have screamed it at the top of her lungs, and no one would have noticed.

I will never be like ‘Peeta who,’ I think silently, wishing it were that simple. With his perfect, tousled, golden blond hair, eyes like a clear, blue, summer sky, and those strong, solid, and warm arms—arms that feel so good wrapped around me‒I never even stood a chance.

An hour passes, and there is still no sign of Peeta. I am on the verge of telling Jo I’m ready to call it a night when she grabs my arm, her eyes widened with bewilderment.

“Brainless,” Jo hisses, catching my attention and pointing to the side door that leads onto the patio. “Holy—heaven and axes—oh please, please, please— kiss me, lick me, suck me fu—”

“JO!” I cut her off, turning my head to see who she’s ogling. My heart skips a beat, and it feels as if the world is shifting on its axis. I eye the man entering the house, seeing that Jo was not exaggerating in the slightest.

Everyone disperses, clearing a path for him as he makes his way inside. I notice a handful of women with their jaws slacked with awe. For a moment, I think he looks familiar, but it’s hard to tell with his mask.

“Zorro,” I state with a hint of amusement, hoping to seem unaffected as I point out his cape and mask.

“Oh my god, oh my god, he’s walking over here!” Jo bounces from toe to toe giddily as the sexy, masked Zorro strides his way over here. For a moment, all I can think of is how we match—both of us dressed to the nines in our black attire.

Jo squirms like a giddy schoolgirl with a celebrity crush, and me (internally) along with her as we follow him with our eyes. I’m sure if I had the capability to look around the room, I wouldn’t be the only one. But I don’t allow myself to be hopeful; I’m just not the type of girl that sticks out in a room full of so many options.

I can still live vicariously through Jo, and I find myself crossing my fingers, wishing and hoping he at least comes over here to talk to her. My heart nearly plummets in my chest when he stops right in front of us, flipping his cape behind him and extending his hand to Jo. Confusion washes over me as Jo nudges me forward. It takes my mind a second to comprehend that Jo is not who his attention is directed to, but me. I’m stunned, shocked beyond belief. No one ever passes Jo over for me. Least of all someone as sexy and confident as this man.

Addled, I turn to meet Jo’s eyes and she gives me a nod of approval. “Go for it, Kitty Kat,” she whispers in my ear.

“I would be more than honored for the privilege to accompany you this evening,” the man—Zorro—steals my hand from Jo and does a slight bow.

“Um …um—” My entire vocabulary evaporates with his penetrating gaze. I can’t seem to get my voice to work, so I nod in hopes I don’t look like an idiot. There is a spark, a jolt of electricity when he laces our fingers together. 

I’m not sure how we got here, but we make it to the dance floor, which is actually just Finnick’s den. Zorro’s lips curve into a crooked, toothy grin, and I once again feel like I know this man. It’s almost like déjà vu, but different. He pulls me into his arms, resting his hands at the curve of my waist, and I feel that thing again—that spark of familiarity. 

I decide to live in the moment and enjoy the security of his arms, allowing the feeling to hug my heart as we sway to the rhythm of the music.

“You are so beautiful, so lovely,” his soft voice echoes in my ear, sending a shiver travelling up the length of my spine, all the hairs on my neck standing at attention.

I try to place his voice, but again, I can’t. There is something so familiar about him, yet so new.

“D-do I know you?” I ask, finally having found my voice.

“It is I, Zorro,” he says in a fake accent, and I giggle.

Get it together Katniss; you do not giggle! I reprimand myself.

“No, I mean …who are you?”

He pulls back slightly until our eyes meet, waving a finger at me. “We can’t break the rules now,” he smirks, his lips perfectly curving into a smile. My eyes draw together as I study him, the wheels in my head working on overdrive to figure out who he is and how I know him.

His hair reminds me of Peeta, and instantly, I am flooded with guilt, though I don’t know why. It’s not as if Peeta is my boyfriend.

‘But you want him to be.' I shove the voice in my head back down and continue to marvel over this man’s hair. This man who is here—this man who isn’t Peeta. His hair isn’t blond like Peeta’s but dyed for the occasion in an array of what seems like a million different shades of yellows and oranges. Like the sunset. That must be why it reminds me of Peeta—because it’s his favorite color.

In the darkness of the room, his eyes emanate a soft glow, which means he must be wearing contacts. I have always believed the eyes are the windows to the soul, and if I could just see their true color, then I’m certain it would be the final puzzle piece I need to confirm his identity.

His arms feel so good, so perfect and right and—and familiar that I never want to leave them. But my feet are killing me, and I’m desperate to get out of these shoes.  “I—” I want to kick myself for my inability to put two words together, but he isn’t fazed, his full attention on me and me alone.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, concern prevalent in his tone.

“I just …I need my bag—my—my shoes,” I blunder with embarrassment, wondering if I’ll ever stop acting a fool in front of this man.

I fetch my bag from Finnick’s study, the room where everyone’s personal belongings are being kept and then excuse myself to the bathroom to change, giving Zorro the perfect opportunity to escape without any hurt feelings or awkwardness.

I find myself rushing in the bathroom, eager, anxious and excited to get back to my handsome Zorro when something dawns on me. What if he’s not there when I get out?  What if he ran for the hills? What if— what if I never see him again?

I kick off the four-inch stilettos, exhaling a sigh of relief and wiggling my toes. My poor feet have been caged in the tight, cramped space for so long that I am almost tempted to return to the party barefoot. I shake my head, dismissing the thought, and give my feet another minute to breathe before donning my boots—my comfortable ones. And then a cloud of darkness hovers around me at the possibility of never seeing Zorro again. The thought saddens me much more than I’d like to admit. At the same time, it angers me. Why should I care about this stranger—this man I don’t even know?

Deciding it’s time to quit hiding in the bathroom, I swing the door open and gasp when I see him. My Zorro, leaning against the wall in the hallway. He looks up and gives me a devilish smile that twists my stomach inside out.

“Y-you’re still here,” I say.

“Of course, where else would I be?” I try to fight the upturn of my lips, but I can’t. My eyes scan each room we pass, in hopes of seeing any trace of Peeta. Even though I am enjoying the company of this stranger, my spirits fall at the absence of my friend. 

“Looking for someone?” Zorro notices.

Blushing with embarrassment, I avert my eyes and shake my head.  “No—I mean, yes, kind of. M-my friend. He said he was coming, but I haven’t seen him.”

“Boyfriend? Lucky man,” Zorro says, and I’m flooded with a million different emotions‒longing for the stranger in front of me and emptiness over the absence of my best friend.

“I can see you care a great deal for this friend. Why don’t we take a walk and maybe he’ll show up by the time we get back?”

“O-okay, sure.” He smiles at my response, and it does something warm and fuzzy to my insides. For the first time in—well, I’m not sure how long it’s been, but for the first time in a while, I feel hopeful.

Zorro extends his hand, and I take it without hesitation. And then it happens again—that electrical current—the feeling of familiarity—like … like I’m home.

I’m not sure how it’s possible, but it feels as if time is frozen, but at the same time it also seems as if a million years have passed. I find myself once again questioning why it feels as if I have known this man forever. 

Zorro leads us through a trail behind Finnick’s house, and the sanctuary of mother nature instantly envelops me and sets my mind at ease. Zorro and I bask under the glow of the moonlight, and it’s as if the symphony of crickets is just for us. We never run out of things to talk about, and I think I could fall in love with him. If it weren’t for Peeta.

“Come here, you’ve got something,” he says, pulling me in closer. Then, using the pad of his thumb, he swipes my bottom lip. And then our eyes lock, and it feels as if his gaze is penetrating through my soul. We stand there, just like that—frozen in that moment‒when he leans in and presses his soft, warm lips to mine.

My entire world begins spinning out of control, the swarm of butterfly’s flap erratically inside me, and I never want this moment to end. I am terrified for the moment we come up for air—I am terrified for the light of day. I never, ever want this moment to end, but alas it does.

“Wow,” he sighs.

“Yes, wow,” I respond. Then he pulls back all the way with the biggest smile on his face.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he confesses.

Wait, what? I’m confused. I’m so confused. What does he mean, he’s always wanted to do that? Does he know who I am? Who I really am? Does he know who I am underneath the mask and the make up?

Our eyes meet again, and I notice something different about him—something that wasn’t there before. No, not different, and not ‘notice,’ but recognize. That’s when I see that one of his contacts has fallen out. Because where there were once two dark, intense pupils that would glow in the darkness, now there is only one. And the other revealing its natural shade, a bright, sparkling cerulean blue. Seeming to have a mind of its own, my hands reaches up to touch my lips, my lips that were just connected to his lips.

“Peeta?” I gasp.

[ Katniss ]

“Gah!!! I hate them! Why do they have to treat me like the incompetent, ugly stepsister? My name is Katniss, not Cinderella!” Katniss’s screeches rippled through the current, and with it, releasing her anger, rage, and frustration. She swam mindlessly with no destination, tugging haphazardly at her hair. She had to get away, needed to escape their clutches, taking to the open waters of the deep, blue, endless ocean. “Tell me what to do? I don’t think so. Just you watch, I’ll show you, all of you!” She cursed herself for the empty threat, tugging a little harder on the ends of each of her braids that swayed over the curve of her shoulders, her exasperated screams fading into nothing more than a faint echo. She flipped her fins harder and harder, not realizing in her frenzy to escape that she was perilously close to the surface, and there was a ship passing overhead.

“I’m not a wimp, and I’m not scared! I can do it; I just haven’t wanted to,” she declared uncertainly. “Just because I haven’t done it yet doesn’t mean I won’t do it. I just…it hasn’t been the right one. And when the right one comes along…I—I’ll just know it,” Katniss pressed on, continuing her unknowing trek toward the surface.

Within a matter of seconds, she found herself gawking at the twinkling lights of a cruise ship passing through the murky waters above her. Eager to satiate her curiosity, she pushed her head past the surface, filling her lungs with the sweet, succulent thing humans referred to as oxygen, and smiled. “I–I made it!” she proudly gasped with disbelief.

Using a stationary buoy in the middle of the ocean, Katniss watched in utter wonderment as she staked-out the ship as it slowly cruised through the ocean. Unlike her siblings, Katniss was intrigued beyond fascination with the strange, human-like creatures, more so than the desirous of luring them to their death. She rested her forearms on the buoy to hold herself in place, her hearts beating erratically in her chest as the ship grew closer. She was thankful for her supernatural hearing, allowing her to easily pick up the slurred words being passed back and forth between the drunken men aboard the ship. She could hear a pitter-pattering sound banging against the wooden planks on the ship, and a fervent jealousy raged through her at the ability to have two—two…well, whatever humans had instead of fins.

Well, to have them all the time, Katniss retorted enviously. With a simple flick of her wrist and some persuasion she could easily have a pair of the…well, whatever they were called. But as of lately, more often than not she found herself wishing she could have them all the time.

“Just do it, Katniss, it’s not that hard,” she fumed, feeling the rush of adrenaline course to the tips of her fins, knowing that by simply parting her lips and releasing her Song, she could end them all. Just like that.  She knew it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up, since the ship was probably full of nothing more than ignorant, horny, unruly men. It was the big break she’d been raving about—the one she’d been looking for. If she did this she could finally prove her worth to her nagging, teasing sisters and get them off her case for good. Because, and again, unlike her sisters, Katniss’s magic in her Song was much more powerful than that of the average Siren. She could easily take out the entire population aboard that stupid ship in less than three notes. If she wanted to. And she did—she wanted to. So, she parted her lips and focused all her energy on the warm bodies ahead of her.

Her mouth parted in preparation to begin her Song when a bewildered gasp escaped her lips. She stared ahead at a man—and he was a beautiful one, too, as far as humans went.

Katniss marveled over the man—watching, staring, and studying him, trying to commit his every move to memory. Something strange was happening to her insides; it felt as if there were a thousand tiny minnows swimming erratically, trying to escape the clutches of her stomach. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, with his unruly, wind-swept, golden hair, and how strong his arms appeared underneath the large cloth covering his torso. Katniss suddenly pondered what it would feel like to remove that covering and trace her fingers along his abdomen, her mind quickly wondering if it rippled like the waves. She continued staring, stupefied and curious with equal measure as the man climbed onto the railing and took a seat. She was far too stunned to do anything but watch as he sat there for what seemed like ages, allowing the ocean to splatter kisses onto his feet. Yes, that’s what they were called—feet. Then he looked up and mouthed something to the stars. 

Katniss felt that ‘minnows trying to escape her belly’ feeling again as the moonlight reflected against his eyes. As the man’s blue orbs flitted up to the sky and then back down to the ocean, for the briefest moment Katniss could have sworn their eyes met. And if she was astonished beyond measure regarding his physique, it had nothing on the way his eyes seemed to wrap around her and hug her soul. She was certain she’d never seen anything this beautiful before. They were the bluest of blue. Bluer than even her tiny friend Primrose, the bright blue, cheerful angelfish she sometimes swam around with.  

And those eyelashes! They were so blond and unbelievably long; she wondered how they didn’t get tangled when he blinked. She stuffed the emotions aside temporarily, promising to deal with them later, for she knew emotions were like the tide; they would return with a vengeance if you neglected to deal with them.  

Katniss cocked her head to the side, her brows knitting with confusion when the man stood up from his spot on the railing. He now stood completely erect on the very narrow walkway, his arms outstretched on either side of him. Then he lifted a single…oh, what was it called again—“leg,” Katniss recalled. Yes, then he raised his leg, placed it in front of the other one, and took a giant step—plummeting feet first, straight into the ocean.

“Poseidon’s pistols!” Katniss gasped, somehow, finding her tail flipping of its own accord, surging her toward the man. “What a fool! Does he not know that water is not a firm surface?”

“Ugh, humans!” she groaned, exasperated as she dove into the water, zipping and zooming, pivoting herself straight toward the man.

Katniss came face to face with the human, his exquisite eyes widening in shock for a fraction of a second before his oxygen-deprived brain rendered him unconscious. She curled her fingers up, all except for the pointing one and poked him.

His body swayed with the current, and Katniss would have thought him dead if it wasn’t for the faint da dum of his beating heart. She knew time wasn’t on his side and quickly enveloped the man in her arms, shooting them both toward the surface. Using her keen powers of night-vision, she scanned her surroundings, spotting a patch of land nearby and pivoting herself and the man towards it. Upon reaching the island, she alternated between scooting and dragging herself and this…stupid human creature up the sandy beach.

“They should be called Stu-mans instead of Humans,” Katniss snorted as she gathered a pile of sand up under the human to elevate him.

“This will be so easy; he is already knocking on death’s door,” Katniss exhaled exuberantly. She knew she should be excited about absorbing her first human soul, but something was nagging her. For reasons unknown to her, she felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach over the prospect of eradicating his life.

After Katniss situated the man on the small mountain of sand, the human man released an un-oceanly guttural moan—compelling Katniss to his side. She stared at him, committing his impeccable features to memory, and wondering how a human could possibly be this beautiful. Then she shook her head, urging herself to focus on the task at hand. 

She wanted to do this; she really did. So, why did it seem nearly impossible to pry her lips apart? But as she stroked the drenched, golden locks of hair (that she had been itching to touch at first sight) from his waterlogged forehead, she felt a burst of electricity when their skin collided.

Katniss was unaware that instead of releasing her Siren’s Song to claim his soul, she was actually replenishing his life force with her Song. She had no idea that at that very moment, her Song was binding their hearts, minds, and souls for the rest of time.

[ Peeta ]

“I’m telling you, Haymitch, someone-something out there saved me, and—and I have to find her,” Peeta admitted to one of his shipmates. He decided to omit the part about his true intentions that night—the decision that landed him in the water in the first place. It wasn’t really that far-fetched, since everyone was always three sheets to the wind, due to the Halloween festivities.

Deciding to end his life after twenty-one miserable Halloweens was not a decision Peeta came to on a whim. Destined to be nothing more than a pathetic, worthless, waste of space, Peeta decided to finally live up to his mother’s expectations. It was, after all, the best birthday gift he could think to give her.

“So, you’re telling me your drunk ass fell off the boat in the middle of the ocean, and some beautiful, mysterious, what…mermaid sang you back to life? And then what…magically teleported you back to the ship?” Haymitch guffawed at his words. “I think somebody musta’ slipped something to ya’ last night, kid.”

“Well, when you say it like that, I guess it does sound kind of ridiculous. But…um, yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright, kid. Well, good luck with that.” Haymitch chuckled, giving Peeta a gruff pat on the back before turning around. “We’ll be on dry land soon; it’s probably just the sea life getting to ya. Ocean’s not for everyone, boy.” His lips formed into a tight line as if he was contemplating something. “At least for now, I wouldn’t be goin’ around spreadin’ rumors about mythical sea creatures, if I was you, anyhow.” Haymitch finished with a wink.

Peeta muddled over his mentor’s words, sulking as he gazed into the ocean. 

Was he making fun of me, or was that some kind of warning? Peeta ruminated silently. I know what I saw—or well, heard. And it was the voice of an angel who breathed life back into me. If it wasn’t for her—for this supposed mystical creature then I’d probably be coated at the bottom of the ocean—or worse, bobbing with the buoys as the seagulls and other marine creatures made a meal of me. Peeta shuddered at the thought. No, I have to find this—whoever—whatever it was and at least thank her.

Over the next few days Peeta thought of nothing but the sounds that seemed to crawl through his veins. It was as if this creature, or whatever it was had gotten hold of him—taken root inside him and buried itself deep in his core. He had never been in love before, but he thought this might be what it felt like. Each night as his crew mates chugged their “happy juice,” and danced merrily to the Halloween festivities, oblivious to anything out of the ordinary, Peeta knew there was something out there. No, not something; it was definitely a “someone.” Yes, someone had pulled him from the ocean and he had this eerie feeling she was somewhere in the ocean, still watching him.

Someone—be it mythical, magical, or just a figment of his imagination had given him a second chance at life, and he wasn’t about to waste another second of it. He had to find her; he just wasn’t sure how.

Each night before Peeta drifted into the land of unconsciousness, he could feel her; her presence was so powerful in his dream-like, hypnagogic state. Everything about her was so luculent. But she was always running away. No, that’s not right. She was always swimming away. There were times Peeta was certain that if he could just catch her, he could pull her from the dream. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his twenty-one years on this planet. Her hair, the color of the mockingjays that soared above this very ship, tightly woven in two intricate braids that cascaded over each of her glistening shoulders. And those silver-as-the-moon, shimmering, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled in the night. And that voice—oh, that voice! Had it not breathed the life back into him, he was sure it could have killed him. It was like…at first sound of her voice, he was on the cusp of jumping to his death, ready to join her at the bottom of the ocean. He would have gladly, willingly put a stop to his beating heart just to hear her—even if it was just an echo of her voice—once more.

But the moment he woke, no matter how hard he grasped, everything about her just…faded. Well, everything except the way she made him feel. It was as if she was this fluid being, always slipping from his fingertips. Like she herself was part of the ocean.