#gadge

Peeta was too stunned to speak. He had always considered himself a man of words, always found something to say at the right moment, could strike up a conversation with anyone who came near him, always managed to make everything sound natural and precise — but in that instant, words flew not only from his mouth, but from his brain entirely. He couldn’t form a single thought, nor could he stop staring at her face. Her olive skin, slightly flushed from the cold, her hair so dark yet shining like her eyes. He was dazed; he didn’t think he had ever seen anyone so beautiful.

“Uh, yes—no! We close at eleven,” he said, mentally hitting every part of himself.

Her smile faded, but not completely. Even as small as it was in that moment, it could have lit up entire cities lost in darkness.

“Oh! That’s a bummer,” she said with a small pout that he found utterly adorable. “We just moved in—literally,” she added, “the house keys were handed to us ten minutes ago. We haven’t eaten anything, this was the only place I saw with the lights on so I thought it was still open.”

Peeta looked down at the little girl on the counter. Her head rested on her folded arms, tracing small circles with her fingers on the surface. She looked just like the woman standing in front of him, only smaller. Her little sister, he thought.

“I can—uh, I can make you something,” he said, slipping on his apron. “I think I’ve got enough fries and a couple of burgers left. Would that be okay?”

The gray eyes before him brightened even more —if that was possible— and Peeta felt something warm bloom inside him. It was all the motivation he needed to cook a thousand burgers if she asked; he didn’t care if it meant staying two extra hours cleaning, even with an early morning ahead.

“Oh, yes! Do you want a burger, Sophie?” the woman asked.

The little girl nodded, smiling the same smile.

“Can I offer you something to drink? Water?” Peeta asked.

“Do you have coffee?” she replied. “But not decaf.”

Peeta frowned slightly. “Coffee? It’s—” he glanced down at his watch “11:23. You won’t sleep at all if you have regular coffee.”

“Decaf coffee tastes completely different from regular coffee,” she added, still wearing that same smile as she sat down on the stool beside the little girl. “You work here at a diner, you should know that better than anyone.”

“Alright, whatever you say,” Peeta replied.

He turned around and focused on one of the coffee machines behind the counter, setting it up to start brewing. After a couple of minutes, he grabbed the pot and walked back toward them, feeling warmth spread through his chest — though he wasn’t sure if it came from the steaming coffee or from being near her. What was wrong with him?

He set the cup on the counter and poured the coffee, feeling her gaze on his face. Peeta tried his hardest not to blush. It would be ridiculous to do so; they had met barely twenty minutes ago. When he finished pouring, he was about to head into the kitchen when the little girl’s voice brought his attention back to them.

“My mom thinks she’ll die if she ever drinks decaf coffee,” she said.

Peeta frowned.

“You’re her… mother?” he asked the woman.

“Yes,” she said, blowing on her cup.

“But you’re like—”

“Twenty-three,” she interrupted.

“And I’m—” the little girl unfolded her arms to hold up seven fingers. “My name’s Sophie.”

Peeta was too stunned to speak, again. He only nodded before heading into the kitchen to make their food.

How could she have a seven-year-old daughter? he thought. That means she had her when she was… well, never mind. He shook his head and started preparing the burgers. But his thoughts kept spinning. He was twenty-three too, and still felt like a kid most of the time, barely capable of running the shop with his brother, let alone raising a child. How could someone so young have already lived so much?

Peeta decided it was best to stop overthinking and forced himself to focus on what he was doing. He sliced the buns, pressed the patties onto the grill, letting the hiss of the fryer keep him grounded. Because at this point, it wasn’t just the fact that they were the same age, or that she had a daughter. He had to stop thinking about her smile. And her voice. And her eyes. And how adorable she looked with that red scarf. God.

A couple of minutes later, with the burgers and fries ready, he plated everything as quickly as he could. He added a few pickle slices on the side, he wasn’t sure if they liked them, but he wanted them to have options. When he came out of the kitchen with both plates in hand, they were sitting next to each other on the tall stools at the counter. Sophie had her head resting on her mother’s arm, playing with paper napkins, folding them into different shapes and showing them to her mom, who was holding her coffee cup with both hands and smiling —not at him this time, obviously— but at her little girl.

“I hope you like it,” he said, placing the plates in front of them.

“Smells delicious,” she replied immediately. Her eyes lifted to meet his and Peeta felt a strange twist in his stomach. Surprising, since he had already eaten — but this was different, warm and dangerous all at once.

Sophie took a bite of her burger and let out a small sound of approval.

“This is way better than the sandwich you tried to make this morning,” she told her mother, mouth half full.

Her mother gave her a very particular look, one Peeta knew very well, because it was one he did all the time and everyone teased him for it. But on her, it looked different — softer and gentler.

“Sophie, manners.”

“Sorry, mommy,” she said quickly, swallowing and glancing at Peeta. “It’s really good, sir.”

Peeta chuckled softly. “Thanks. But don’t call me sir, that makes me feel old.”

“My mom’s old and you look the same age,” Sophie added before taking another bite.

Her mother chuckled, and Peeta couldn’t help laughing too.

“Kid, you’re very lucky I love you,” she said.

Peeta used the time to keep cleaning up the place. He flipped the chairs upside down on the tables, gathered all the salt shakers and condiments into their baskets and swept the floor while the two of them finished eating. When he was done, he went back behind the counter to start cleaning the machines, when that voice, that angelic voice, spoke again.

“Have you lived here long?” she asked suddenly. He turned around and their eyes met. Peeta started feeling nervous; it was such a simple question, but there was something about the way she asked it that unsettled him in the strangest ways. And he had just met her.

“My whole life, basically,” he said. “My parents owned a bakery here for years, but they moved away. When I graduated, my brother and I re-did it and turned it into this diner. I still bake the bread, but now I make other things too.”

“Do you like cooking?”

“I love it,” he answered without hesitation. “Always have. This town needed a place like this, so when we got the chance, we took it. We’ve had a lot of support from the people here. I really appreciate that.”

“Is that why you make them burgers even after closing time?” she asked, taking another sip from her coffee cup.

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Eh, you could say that.”

She just nodded, smiling back at him before turning to her daughter, who was chewing with a look of deep concentration. He watched the scene for a few moments and could see how much she loved her child just in the way she looked at her. Peeta’s smile softened a little, but didn’t fade.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Really.”

Peeta felt something warmer than the coffee rising through his chest.

“Don’t mention it.”

She blew lightly over her cup before taking another sip. Peeta could tell she was more at ease now, as if the meal and the coffee had lifted some invisible weight from her shoulders. The little girl had set her burger aside and returned her focus to the napkins, now trying to fold them into some kind of flower.

The mother asked for the check, Peeta nodded, moving toward the register. As he tallied up the total, he couldn’t help glancing at them from the corner of his eye. The way she held her daughter close, adjusted her hat, and wrapped her in her coat. There was something about her, that confident yet slightly tired voice, that soft smile, that overwhelming, fragile beauty… that made him want, absurdly, to offer her a blanket, a comfortable chair and a place where she wouldn’t have to worry about anything at all.

When he handed her the check, she pulled a couple of bills from her pocket and slid them across the counter. Then she took her daughter’s hand and together they headed for the door. But Peeta quickly noticed she’d left too much money.

“Hey, miss! You left extra cash.”

She nodded.

“It’s not necessary,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving sideways into a small smile.

“It’s a thank you, sir. We’ll see you around.”

Peeta felt his face heat up and tried not to smile more than he should.

“I didn’t catch your name!” he called out.

She adjusted her scarf the same way she had when she arrived, before covering her face again, he caught one last glimpse of her smile.

“Katniss.”

Peeta smiled.

“Peeta.”

“Yeah, I knew,” she said with a laugh. Peeta frowned, confused. “Your apron says Peeta.”

He felt stupid. No — stupid didn’t even cover it. What do you call it when your smile freezes on your face, your hands shake while serving coffee and you forget you’re literally wearing your own name on your chest? Something like that.

Sophie waved at him, still holding her napkin flower.

“Bye, coffee man.”

“See you later,” he said, unable to stop smiling.

Katniss.

Peeta had never heard a name so beautiful and unique.

It was time to start over.

That’s what Katniss kept telling herself again and again. She had left many things behind, some on purpose, others because she simply didn’t know what else to do. Sophie walked a few steps ahead of her, her backpack swinging side to side —she had offered to carry it, but the little girl refused— wearing a cap that didn’t match her coat, a pair of gloves too big for her hands and that endless energy children have before they learn what emotional exhaustion feels like. Katniss watched her daughter with a knot in her chest. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but didn’t loosen either. If there was one thing Katniss was sure of in this life, it was that everything she did, she did for Sophie.

Living with her aunt had been… practical. Not ideal, but practical. She was grateful, of course, they’d had a roof, food, help with Sophie. But she couldn’t keep living that way; she needed to find her own path, to be more independent. The Independence Inn had been a small salvation. The pay was low and the hours long, but for the first time in years, Katniss felt like she had something she could truly call her own thing. Besides, it would bring her closer to her real dream: opening her own inn someday.

“Bye, kid,” Katniss said, stopping in front of the school. “I’ll see you here in a couple of hours.”

“I can walk home by myself, you know?” Sophie said.

Katniss smiled and placed a quick kiss over the top of her daughter’s hat.

“Yeah… that’s not gonna happen.”

The little girl waved goodbye and headed toward the school. Watching her go, Katniss felt a pang of sadness. It had to be just as hard for Sophie — starting fresh in a new town, new school, new friends.

Katniss had an extra hour before work, so she decided to take a short walk around Stars Hollow to get to know the town a little better. There were more people out than she expected for such an early hour, also a lot of hand-painted signs, perfectly kept gardens, strings of lights hanging from the trees in the park, little bells on every door — everything looked like it had come straight out of an old movie. Even though Katniss had lived her entire life less than an hour away from Stars Hollow, she had never actually set foot in it. And now, it struck her as… peculiar, yeah, that’s the word.

She kept walking for a bit longer until, without realizing it, she found herself standing in front of the same place as the night before: Mellark’s Bakery & Café. From outside, she could already smell the coffee and pancakes, and it made her smile instantly. But she quickly pushed that smile away when she realized she wasn’t sure if it was the smell of breakfast that made her react — or the thought of the young man behind the counter.

She couldn’t allow herself anything with anyone. And yet, she couldn’t deny how much she’d liked him from the moment she saw him. She remembered his kind voice, his messy curls, the way he carried himself and that smile. So she decided to step inside to see if she’d run into him — and for coffee, of course.

She pushed the door open, and the little bell above the frame chimed softly. Katniss rolled her eyes as she stepped inside — apparently, having a bell was a requirement for every business in this town.

Inside, the place felt just as cozy as the night before, though this time there were people around. She spotted him immediately: tall frame, broad shoulders, messy blond hair. Smiling without even realizing it, she walked closer and without thinking twice, tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully.

The guy turned around… and it was not him.

Katniss froze for a second, feeling the warmth rush to her cheeks.

“Oh—I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

A small laugh cut her off.

“Peeta?” the stranger guessed with an amused grin. “That would be my brother. He’s right—” he turned toward the door leading to the kitchen, which swung open just then, “—there.”

Peeta stepped out wearing the same apron as the night before, holding two plates in his hands. When he saw her, he stopped for a moment, lips parting in surprise.

“Katniss,” he said, his voice touched with surprise. He set the plates down on a nearby table, then walked toward her and his brother, wiping his hands on his apron before running one through his curls. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Katniss smiled, feeling her face grow more warm. She adjusted her scarf, hoping the movement might hide the color in her cheeks.

“I had a bit of free time before work,” she said, trying to sound casual, “so I thought I’d stop by for some coffee. And maybe something to eat.”

Peeta was just about to reply when his brother’s teasing voice jumped in first.

“Where do you work?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

“At the Independence Inn,” Katniss answered with a polite smile. “Actually, today’s my first day.”

Peeta cleared his throat, shooting his brother a look that he seemed to understood right away. The other man raised his hands in surrender.

“Alright, I’m going,” he said with a grin. “Food’s not gonna cook itself.”

Once he disappeared back into the kitchen, Peeta rolled his eyes, half amused.

“That would be my brother, Rye,” he said, turning back to her.

Katniss nodded.

“I actually mistook him for you when I walked in. You look identical—from behind.”

Peeta placed a hand dramatically over his chest.

“Identical?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “That hurts.”

Katniss laughed softly. The kind of laugh that escaped before she could stop it.

“So… what do you recommend for breakfast?”

Peeta moved behind the counter and pointed to the week’s special: crispy chicken and waffles.

“You have to try that,” he said. “I know the combo sounds a little weird, but it’s amazing. Trust me.”

Katniss pressed her lips together, trying not to smile too wide and told him yes. She settled onto one of the barstools while Peeta returned to the kitchen, but not before serving her a cup of coffee —yes, with caffeine— and got to work on her meal.

Fifteen minutes later, he came back with her plate in hand: waffles perfectly stacked, with their crispy chicken strips arranged neatly on the side. Katniss thanked him, saying it looked delicious, and once she tried it, there was no doubt — it was delicious. So much so that she let out a small, muffled moan before immediately feeling embarrassed. Peeta smiled but didn’t say anything.

“So, why the Independence Inn?” he asked, casually wiping down a mug.

Katniss finished chewing a piece of waffle before answering.

“It’s not like I had many options,” she admitted. “But I did choose it.”

Peeta raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Katniss nodded, turning her coffee cup slowly between her hands.

“I’ve always wanted to open an inn,” she said. “It’s a dream I’ve had since I was a kid. When I played with a dollhouse, I didn’t pretend it was a house. I always imagined it was a hotel.” She took a sip of coffee. “It sounds a little silly, I know, but I like the idea. So when the opportunity came up, it just felt… like a logical first step.”

Peeta smiled. “That’s amazing.”

“And besides,” she went on, “I’ll be starting night classes at the university next month. In Hartford. So I needed something that wouldn’t clash with that and the Inn was really flexible with the hours. It worked out perfectly.”

“Really?” he said, genuinely impressed. “What are you going to major in?”

“Business,” she replied.

“Business,” Peeta repeated and she nodded. “Sounds like you’ve got a plan.”

Katniss pressed her lips together, looking down at her plate. Then she lifted her gaze to meet his, “something like that,” she said softly.

“That’s great,” Peeta added, now wrapping spoons and forks in napkins. “And your daughter, will she stay with… your husband?”

Katniss frowned slightly. The question didn’t sound entirely casual. It wasn’t direct, but it had that tone. The kind that tests the water without fully stepping in. It was a polite, carefully neutral way of asking if there was someone else in her life. She looked down at her plate, not because the question bothered her, she’d been through enough that the subject of Gale no longer hurt — but simply out of habit. She ran her thumb along the rim of her cup before replying.

“No,” she said finally, lifting her eyes to meet those blue ones. “I am not married. I’ll hire a sitter, I asked around at the Inn and they gave me a few names.”

Her tone was simple and direct, no drama, because there was no need for any.

“The situation with her father is… complicated,” she said, picking up a piece of chicken with her fingers and taking a bite.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Peeta said quietly.

But Katniss quickly waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, clearing her throat. “As you probably guessed last night, I was pretty young when it all happened, and it’s just been… complicated ever since. They see each other sometimes, but not always.” Peeta nodded, eyes still on the spoons he was wrapping. He didn’t say anything and strangely enough, that gave Katniss the space to keep talking “iIt’s always been just her and me, but—”

She stopped.

The sentence trailed off before it got too personal. She realized, with a sudden twist in her stomach, what she was doing, spilling her heart out. To someone she barely knew, someone who, twelve hours ago, didn’t even exist in her life. She shook her head slightly and took a long sip of her coffee, letting the heat burn her tongue a little. Maybe she needed it.

“Sorry,” she said, lowering her eyes to her cup with a nervous smile. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. We just met and I’m already venting.”

Peeta looked up for the first time from the spoons and when their eyes met, Katniss saw something in his expression. Not pity nor discomfort. It was softer, a faint crease between his brows, the kind she often made herself. But if she wasn’t mistaken, she could recognize something she’d seen in her own eyes many times before: disappointment.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said finally, giving her a half smile.

The silence that followed wasn’t long, but it was just enough to feel awkward. Katniss turned her gaze toward the window, took another sip of coffee and broke it before it thickened.

“Do you always bake everything yourself?” she asked, interested in the tray of pastries behind the counter. “Because if you do, that officially makes you my friend.”

The question hung there like a rope thrown out of a well, pulling them both out of the awkward pause they’d fallen into. To her relief, it worked, Peeta let out a short laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his elbows on the counter in a relaxed way. “From the burger buns to the donuts, muffins, cookies… basically, everything that makes you gain weight is my fault.”

Katniss narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion, though she couldn’t help the small smile forming on her lips.

They kept talking for a while after that. Nothing important — this time, nothing uncomfortable. Peeta told her a bit about the town: the gatherings, the festivals, mentioning names Katniss knew she wouldn’t remember yet. There were laughs, glances, jokes; the conversation flowed easily between them, without effort. Three cups of coffee later, she noticed that there was chemistry between them. Maybe not in that way —or maybe exactly in that way— but it was there.

She didn’t even realize how much time had passed until she caught sight of the clock on the wall. Her eyes widened slightly, and she set her empty cup down on the counter.

“I have to go,” she said with a soft groan. “My shift at the Inn starts in half an hour, and I still have no idea how to get there without getting completely lost.”

Peeta nodded, pushing himself up from where he stood. Just before she could slide off the stool, he turned toward a tray on the counter, grabbed a glazed donut and placed it on a napkin, handing it to her with a small smile.

“Happy first day at work, on me.”

Katniss blinked, feeling the blush climb up her cheeks before she could stop it.

“Thank you,” she said, returning his smile despite herself.

After paying and heading for the door, Peeta was already at another table, writing down an order in his little notepad. She placed her hand on the door handle and just before stepping out, she turned slightly.

“What’s with every place in this town and their bells?” she called out, raising an eyebrow as the door chime jingled behind her.

Peeta turned toward her and let out a soft laugh. She smiled back, and before stepping fully outside, she said: “See ya.”

Then she left. Carrying with her the smell of coffee, a donut, and something else she couldn’t afford to feel… but was starting to.

Peeta had tried to avoid it over time. At first, it was easy to think it was just a small crush — and how could it not be? Katniss was beautiful woman, new in town, a young mother with a laugh that came out in this strange, unexpected way with the most peculiar expressions. It made perfect sense for anyone to like her. But liking someone was one thing. Falling in love… that was something else entirely. And as much as he tried to convince himself it wasn’t that deep, Peeta knew exactly what he was feeling.

He was falling. Hard.

It happened little by little. With the mornings when she came straight to the café after dropping Sophie off at school, her hair tied up in a rush, smelling faintly of floral shampoo — like her name. With the days when she laughed unintentionally at something silly he did. With the nights when, if Sophie was at her new friend’s house, Katniss stayed a little longer after her shift, helping sweep up even though no one had asked her to. With every moment they spent together —even if it was just a few minutes— Peeta grew more certain.

But he also knew it wasn’t that simple. Katniss had never opened up about her relationship with Sophie’s father, but from the start, she’d made it clear her situation was complicated — which, to Peeta, sounded like there was no room for anything else in her life.

And there was also Sophie. Sophie, who waved from the door every time she passed by. Sophie, who left him drawings to hang in the window. Sophie, who was the center of Katniss’s world. And there was also the father — not present, but not completely gone either. A name he didn’t know, but one that surfaced now and then in conversation, usually by Sophie, and that made things even harder to read. Who was he to interfere? To insert himself into a dynamic that, while imperfect, was still a family?

But as the months went by, something shifted. Not in her —at least not obviously— but in him. He started to wonder if he was really intruding… or if he was simply waiting. Waiting for there to be space. For her to look at him differently. For Sophie to smile at him like always, and for that not to mean he was crossing a line. Maybe —just maybe— things could happen, if he was patient enough. He only had to wait for the right moment.

That moment came one night.

It was an ordinary evening. He had the night off, which was rare since he usually buried himself in testing recipes, baking new breads, or spending time with his brother. He had planned to go to the movies, watch whatever was playing —it didn’t really matter— and maybe stop by the local bar afterward, sit in the corner, have a beer, and head home later.

He’d just stepped out of the shower and was buttoning his shirt when his phone buzzed. The name on the screen made him frown — more in surprise than concern. Katniss. He answered immediately.

“Peeta!” she exclaimed quickly on the other end, as if she’d been holding her breath for a while. “Thank God. Are you busy?”

Peeta blinked, still not processing much of what was happening. He glanced at the clock, then at his jacket on the bed. Technically, he wasn’t busy. Not yet, anyway.

“No,” he said. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is Sophie okay?”

“My tire blew,” she said, her voice dropping, more frustrated than scared. “I don’t have a spare. I’m in the middle of nowhere—somewhere between Hartford and Stars Hollow. I don’t have the number of any mechanic. I was wondering if… if you could come get me. I know it’s late, I’m just really stressed—”

Peeta didn’t even think for a second.

“I’m on my way.”

He didn’t even ask her exactly where she was. He would drive the whole road until he found her. Something inside him told him this was the kind of thing you did for someone who mattered. And even if he hadn’t said it out loud, Katniss mattered to him.

As he drove, Peeta caught himself thinking about it — about her, about what might happen that night. They had never been alone anywhere that wasn’t the café. But now… now it was different. Just the two of them on a starry night. A favor she had asked him, not anyone else.

Maybe this was the moment. Maybe he could ask her to go to the movies afterward. Nothing too forward, just casual. Or maybe he’d tell her he’d been planning to grab a drink and ask if she wanted to join him. Maybe it was time to tell her he wanted to try something with her -- that he thought about her every moment of the day, that they could take it slow. The only thing that mattered was her. And Sophie. Always Sophie. And that meant respecting every boundary, never trying to take a place that wasn’t his; he knew it and was more than willing to. Because it wasn’t about being someone in her life, it was about being there for her, when she needed him. He realized he was smiling like an idiot — literally. He shook his head slightly. We’ll see, he thought.

A few minutes later, he saw her. The car pulled over to the side of the road, the lights flashing. She was sitting in the driver’s seat, arms crossed, her face lit dimly by the cabin light. His heart gave a small leap at the sight of her. When he parked in front of the car and stepped out, he gave the hood a light tap and waved. He saw her open the door and turn toward him, and for a second, when their eyes met, it nearly killed him with tenderness — because yes, the tire was flat, and yes, it was a little cold, and yes, this was just a favor. But he couldn’t help it. Seeing her like that, with her face a little anxious and her eyes finding his with relief, it was impossible not to feel it.

“I’m here,” he said, not raising his voice much.

He didn’t expect Katniss to move so fast, much less to do what she did — closing the distance between them in barely three steps. She just hugged him. Her arms went around his back, her cheek pressed against his shoulder for barely a second. But it caught Peeta completely off guard. His body went still, unsure if he should hug her back, but just as he started to lift his arms to return it, she had already stepped away. Still, the scent of her hair —something soft, lavender with a hint of sweetness— lingered on his jacket and, even more strongly, in his chest.

“Thank you for coming,” Katniss said, holding herself this time.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, nervous. He cleared his throat,and she looked toward the car with a faint grimace.

“I’ll have to leave it here. No spare, and hopefully someone can come help me tomorrow… I don’t know. I’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Peeta nodded. He thought about offering to take care of it himself. To stay, to find a solution, to not let her worry one minute longer, but just then she spoke again.

“I’m tired, honestly.”

“Okay,” Peeta said calmly, “get in mine. I’ll take you home.”

Katniss nodded with a small smile, walking beside him toward the car. Peeta couldn’t help the faint smile that crossed his face as he lowered his head a little, hoping she wouldn’t notice. He kept thinking about that hug — brief, but still lingering on his skin.

Once they were in the car, Peeta’s hands stayed firm on the wheel. It wasn’t that he was tense… or maybe it was — either way, he was nervous. The night had shifted the moment she hugged him. It wasn’t the hug itself. It was having her that close, really close, for the first time.

“Were you going somewhere?” Katniss asked, breaking the silence. She didn’t turn completely, just tilted her head a little toward him. “You look freshly showered, and that shirt doesn’t exactly scream regular night in.”

Peeta laughed, caught off guard by how right she was. He had the sudden urge to look at her, to catch those gray eyes that always made his chest stir, but he held himself back — he didn’t want to crash. He kept his gaze on the road and tightened his grip on the wheel, trying to keep his feet on the ground.

“It’s my night off,” he said, “I was going to catch a movie. Maybe grab a drink after.”

Katniss let out a sharp little sound, like a gasp.

“Peeta! You should’ve told me.”

He chuckled, a little flustered. “I wasn’t going to leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere. My night off isn’t as important as making sure you’re safe.

She didn’t answer right away and he thought that would be it — like so many other times when his words hung in the air and faded. But then she spoke again.

“How about… well, it’s too late for a movie,” she said, her tone softer now, “but I could buy you a beer? Sophie’s with her sitter, so I can afford to be a little late. Come on, say yes.”

Peeta pressed his lips together, trying to hide the smile threatening to escape. Inside, he felt like a happy idiot. Of course he wanted to, he wanted to say yes with every part of him. It was just a beer, but it was also something else — an opening, a chance.

“Alright,” he said at last, his voice steady even though his chest felt anything but. “Let’s go get that beer.”

Twenty minutes later, Peeta parked in front of Abernathy’s, the only halfway decent bar in town still open at that hour. From the car, the sign’s neon lights blurred through the mist, the “A” flickering every few seconds. Katniss leaned toward the windshield, one eyebrow raised.

“‘Abernathy’s’? That’s a strange name.”

Peeta smiled as he shut off the engine and stepped out. He walked around the front of the car and held the door open for her.

“That’s the owner’s name,” he said. “Well, his last name.”

Katniss let out a small laugh. “Of course. Everyone in this town names their business after themselves.”

Peeta shrugged, still smiling, as they stepped inside. The soft chime of yet another bell greeted them.

“I’d say that’s true.”

The air inside was warm, the wood on the walls worn by time and use, filled with a mix of scents — beer, liquor, old leather, and pretzels. The music was low, old rock, and the murmur of the few people scattered around matched the tone. Only a couple of tables were taken. As they walked toward the bar, Peeta couldn’t help but feel that, even if the plan had completely changed, the night was going far better than he had expected.

They took two seats at the far end of the bar, on a pair of tall old stools. Peeta sat carefully — not because of the stool itself, but because of the person next to him. It didn’t take long for Haymitch, the owner, to appear, moving with his usual half-closed eyes like someone who hadn’t slept in years. He rested his knuckles on the counter and looked at them, raising his brows without bothering to soften his tone.

“What do you want?”

“A beer,” Katniss said.

Peeta motioned with his hand that it would be two. When Haymitch turned to grab the drinks, Peeta shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. They were sweaty, his hands always got like that when he was nervous, and right now he couldn’t help it. It was the kind of nerves that made him too aware of everything: every movement, every word, every glance. He didn’t want her to notice. Haymitch came back with two beers, set them down, and fixed Peeta with a raised eyebrow and half a smirk.

“Wow, Peeta. Finally got yourself a date.”

Peeta rolled his eyes. “Get lost.”

Katniss let out a quiet laugh. “We’re just friends,” she said.

Peeta nodded without answering, but couldn’t help the tightness that formed in his stomach, like being reminded of exactly where he stood. Haymitch, pleased with the awkwardness he’d created, wandered off. Peeta took a sip of his beer, searching for something to say — he didn’t want the silence to stretch too long.

“How was class?” he asked, turning slightly toward her.

Katniss drank from her bottle. “Eh. It was fine,” she said finally. “But I had a few problems that stressed me out, and the flat tire pretty much ruined the rest of my mood.”

Peeta frowned. “Problems? What happened?”

Katniss shrugged, her fingers turning the neck of the bottle slowly. “The same as always,” she murmured. “Problems with Gale… um—Sophie’s father.”

Finally, the name. Peeta didn’t say anything; even though he had plenty of questions, he knew the important thing wasn’t how many to ask, but how to ask them. Katniss didn’t look at him while she spoke.

“He helps with some things,” she continued. “School stuff, supplies, clothes every once in a while. Things like that.”

Peeta nodded but stayed quiet. He could tell that wasn’t what was really bothering her.

“But that’s not what matters,” her voice dropped slightly; she seemed to hesitate before going on, but she did anyway. “What… what gets to me, what I can’t understand, is the fact that he doesn’t want to see her.”

There it was—the truth, needing no more explanation. Katniss lifted her gaze just enough for him to see the emotional exhaustion behind her gray eyes, the kind that comes from having to justify an absence that never made sense.

Peeta felt something twist inside him — a mix of disbelief and anger. Not at her, never at her. How? How could someone choose to stay away from someone like Sophie? Because if there was one thing Peeta knew for certain, it was that the girl was wonderful. She was genuine, curious in a way that lit up everything she asked about, far too smart for her age, sweet, polite, and endlessly imaginative — like when she folded napkins into flowers, or when she left her little drawings at the café with his name written in slightly crooked letters.

How could anyone not want to be near that? His own daughter?

Peeta forced himself to take a slow breath. To not grip the beer bottle too tightly. To not let what he felt show on his face. Because this wasn’t about him — it was about them. The fact that Katniss was opening up to him about it calmed him somehow, because it meant she trusted him enough.

But if there was something else he realized while listening to her talk between sips of beer, it was that this definitely wasn’t the right moment. Katniss hadn’t said much more yet, but Peeta could feel it went deeper than the fact that the jerk —that’s how he called him in his head before he knew the name— sent money but never showed up.

Maybe, he thought, she still loved him. God, he was the father of her child, of course she did. That kind of feeling didn’t just vanish, not when you shared something as strong as Sophie.

And if that was the case, if there was still a part of Katniss holding on to that past, even if it was through anger or pain or nostalgia, then it wasn’t his place to step in between. So he decided not to do anything. Not to say anything. To stick to empty words, no attempts at comfort — because if he really said what he was thinking, that Gale guy deserved a talk with his fists first. He wasn’t going to try to fill a space that wasn’t his, or break the quiet with his own feelings. He would just stay there, beside her, listening for a little while longer or for as long as she needed.

Sophie’s first day of school always came with a bit of chaos, just enough to make Katniss start the morning with a tight stomach and a mental checklist of a thousand things to do before eight. Backpack, lunchbox —which consisted of a Pop-Tart and five crumpled dollars— uniform, and hair as presentable as she could manage. It never turned out quite as perfectly as she planned, but Sophie, as always, made it work. The little girl never complained. She never did.

When the doorbell rang, Katniss went to open it, still half-asleep, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wearing the most faded sweatshirt she owned, only to find Peeta standing on the porch with a large paper bag in one hand and a coffee cup in the other.

He didn’t ask if he could come in; he just walked inside with the ease of someone who already knew where everything was. He handed Katniss the coffee, set the paper bag gently on the table, and took a seat. The moment Sophie saw him, she ran over to greet him. While she excitedly told Peeta how thrilled she was to start fourth grade and showed him the book she’d just finished reading, Katniss peeked into the paper bag: inside was an egg sandwich, a small container of cut fruit and a granola bar with ‘Soph’ written on the wrapper in blue marker. Something stirred deep inside her chest.

“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” Katniss said, tugging at her sweatshirt a little. “The breakfast, I mean.”

Peeta shook his head, smiling. “I didn’t do it for you. It was for Sophie.”

“Thanks, Peeta!” Sophie said brightly.

The little girl threw her arms around him clinging to his neck, wrapping her small arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. Peeta hugged her back without hesitation, bending slightly to hold her tight. He ran a hand over her back and rested his chin gently against the top of her head.

“It’s nothing, muffin,” he said with a soft smile.

Katniss couldn’t look away. Her heart clenched, not with sadness, but with something deeper, something that had terrified her every day since she met Peeta.

As tempting as it was, she couldn’t let herself start a relationship with anyone. Not because she was completely closed to the idea —though she often told herself she was— but because she was afraid of trusting again. She was someone who protected herself from love, knowing exactly where her weak spots were. Someone who had learned to shut out anything that could disturb the fragile balance she’d built since her daughter was born. Everything she did, she did for Sophie. Because more than the fear of loving, what scared her was trusting: opening up again, picturing a future that wasn’t just her and her daughter. Not because that was wrong—but because it was the way she survived. She couldn’t let anyone in who might unravel what she’d worked so hard to keep steady.

And yet, there was Peeta. Who, little by little, had begun to tilt that balance she’d sworn to protect. Seeing him like that, with her daughter in his arms, holding her close —without having to do it— took her breath away. That image of Peeta and Sophie together, felt like a dangerous crack in the wall she’d built to keep herself safe.

What if it could be different this time? What if… it already was?

Besides, Sophie, being who she was, never held back with her questions. More than once, without even looking at her directly, she’d said things like, “do you and Peeta love each other?” And every single time, Katniss froze for a second, swallowing either a laugh or her discomfort before saying no, of course not, that Peeta was just her friend — like she and Lily from her class were friends. Sophie never argued; she just nodded and went back to whatever she was doing.

And Katniss was right. Technically, she and Peeta were friends.

Over the past year, they’d built something solid. Notes in coffees, free donuts, weekly dinners at her place or his, Sunday trips to the park, Peeta washing the dishes without being asked, movie nights where Sophie fell asleep halfway through and the two of them stayed up talking for hours. They even spent Christmas together.

Yes, it sounded ridiculous — and she knew it. Still, inside, her stomach always twisted whenever she thought about Peeta for more than five seconds. Because she didn’t know what he thought. Friends did those things; maybe for him that was all it was. Simple friendship, loyalty and support. And who was she to imagine anything else? After all, that’s what friends do, right? Maybe the problem was hers. Maybe she was the only one questioning everything inside her head.

And she couldn’t let herself do that. Because no matter how much warmth, sweetness or longing lived at the bottom of her chest when she imagined the three of them as a family… she could never hand over the whole package of taking care of Sophie with her. It wouldn’t be fair and it wouldn’t be right. Sophie was hers — her responsibility, her everything. As much as Peeta loved her, if there was a possibility, she couldn't ask him to do it.

She forced herself to look away and take a deep breath, because questioning her entire life wasn’t part of the morning plan.

“Photo time! Stand by Sophie’s door,” Peeta said, standing up from his chair and pulling a small digital camera from his jacket pocket. “And Katniss, please fix your hair, would you?”

Katniss rolled her eyes, smiling as she tightened her messy bun.

The first-day photo had become a tradition just last year, when Sophie started third grade. They had stopped by the diner for breakfast before school and while they were sitting at the table, Peeta had come over and taken their picture. A week later, he’d given it to Katniss with a small note written on the back: Sophie’s third floor, nine to go!

She turned just in time to see Peeta adjusting the camera with a grin. Sophie stood with her backpack hanging off one shoulder, her ponytail crooked, her coat buttoned only halfway. Katniss stood right beside her, holding her close.

“One, two, three…”

Click.

Peeta pulled the camera back and looked at the screen, a soft smile on his face. Katniss, her heart beating faster than it should, leaned closer to look. She rested one hand on the back of the chair and tilted forward just enough to see the image. On the screen, she and Sophie were wrapped in each other’s arms, perfectly captured with their messy hair, half-open backpack, but both smiling wide.

Just as she was about to say something, she felt Peeta’s breath against her shoulder. A shiver ran up her spine, and she forced herself to stay composed, but it was impossible not to feel that rush.

She turned toward him, smiling nervously. “Thank you,” she said softly, “it’s perfect.”

Peeta gave her a quick smile and cleared his throat.

“If you’d like, I can go with you to the school,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I came on foot, so it’d be nice if you gave me a ride after dropping this little one off.”

Katniss hesitated for a second. Not because she didn’t want to take him —that wasn’t the problem— but because she knew what gestures like that meant. Then she looked at Sophie, who was watching her eagerly with the same gray eyes she’d inherited from her.

“Sure.”

A few minutes later, the three of them stepped out of the house. Sophie climbed into the back seat while Katniss took the driver’s side and Peeta settled in next to her. Just before starting the car, Katniss twisted around to face the backseat, her expression serious.

“Before you get out, I have to fix that ponytail, kid,” she said, pointing at her daughter’s crooked hair tie.

Sophie groaned softly but before she could protest, Peeta added:

“Don’t listen to her, muffin. You look better than she does,” Sophie burst out laughing and Katniss only rolled her eyes, hiding a smile as she turned the key in the ignition.

Peeta hadn’t met Sophie’s father yet. In fact, he had never even seen him around town. As far as he knew, neither Katniss nor Sophie had had any contact with him in the last three years. Katniss didn’t usually share those kinds of details so openly, but also if it had happened, she would have mentioned it to him.

Sophie was ten years old. She already spoke with total conviction about her future. Sometimes she said she wanted to be a paleontologist, other times a writer or a doctor. Peeta didn’t know if she would change her mind a dozen more times, but what he did know was that Sophie was bright, creative, sweet, and genuinely a good kid. And still, her father seemed to have no interest in knowing her. That indifference confused him more every day he spent with the little girl, and even more, it broke his heart.

It hurt him for her, but it also hurt for Katniss. Because even though she didn’t talk about it, Peeta could see the weight she carried in silence. The days she arrived late to work, the times she didn’t ask for help even when she needed it, the way she smiled at Sophie without allowing herself to fall apart.

In the time they had known each other, he and Katniss had built a true friendship. Something that grew with every day they shared, with every activity that became part of their routine. But as valuable as that relationship was, Peeta couldn’t stop what was growing inside him more and more.

He wanted more.

He wanted Katniss to give him space not only in her life but also in her heart. Peeta wanted to be with them. He wanted to be there in the mornings, making breakfast while Sophie packed her backpack, to wash the dishes with Katniss at night after dinner, to help Sophie with her homework, to carry the grocery bags. He wanted the ordinary and the intimate.

And he wanted her. He wanted to kiss her. God, he wanted to kiss her. He imagined the touch of her lips on his, wanted to kiss her forehead when she finished a long shift, her cheek after serving her a cup of coffee, her neck when they were close enough. He wanted to touch every part of her. Not out of desire only, but out of the need to make her feel safe. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin under his fingers, her breath against his neck. He wanted to hold her at night, her body fitting against his.

Peeta wanted everything with Katniss. He wanted her to let him love her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bell above the door, just in time for him to look up. When he did, he saw Katniss walking in quickly, looking tense, and Sophie behind her, dragging her feet slightly, her backpack hanging from one shoulder. Peeta frowned, setting the rag in his hand aside.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked, wiping his hands on his apron. “You’ve got class in…”—he glanced at his watch—“forty minutes. You should be on your way to Hartford.”

Without saying a word, Sophie walked to one of the tables in the back and dropped into a chair, resting her head on her arms. Peeta followed her with his eyes for a second before looking back at Katniss. She looked exhausted—and not just physically. There was sadness in her face that disarmed him instantly.

“I know,” she said finally, letting out a sigh. “But the babysitter canceled on me last minute. I don’t want to leave Sophie alone at home, and I don’t have time to drive her to Madge’s. That’d be at least twenty extra minutes.”

Peeta raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he waited for her to finish.

“I was wondering if…” Katniss continued, glancing toward Sophie and then back at him. “Maybe you could watch her? You wouldn’t have to keep an eye on her all the time, I promise she won’t bother you. She can sit over there and—”

“Katniss,” he interrupted softly. “That’s enough.”

She stopped right away, surprised.

“Of course I can,” Peeta added. “I’ll watch her.”

For the first time since she’d walked in, Katniss smiled. A small smile. She stepped closer, rested her hand on his arm for balance, leaned in, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you!” she said quickly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But not right now—I have to go.”

Peeta opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. That was the effect Katniss had on him. The kiss hadn’t been long, or even particularly intimate, but his skin, right where her lips had touched, burned hotter than the time he’d grabbed a boiling pot. The warmth spread from his cheek down his neck, up to his face, then lower, to his chest. He nodded awkwardly.

“Yeah… go,” he said.

Katniss gave him one last grateful look and rushed out of the café, leaving him frozen in place for a few seconds, his hand still on his apron and his heart pounding against his ribs. Slowly, he blinked and touched his cheek, right where she’d kissed him. But he couldn’t stand there all day.

He turned toward the back of the café, where Sophie still sat in the same position. Peeta could see her sadness, almost a mirror of her mother’s just moments ago. He approached carefully, resting a hand on the back of her chair.

“Why don’t you go upstairs, Soph?” he said gently. “You can put on a movie or something you like. I’ll bring you something to eat in a bit, okay?”

Sophie barely lifted her head. Her gray eyes, so much like Katniss’s, looked dim. She nodded silently, grabbed her backpack and walked with short, slow steps toward the door that led to the apartment upstairs. Peeta turned toward the kitchen then, where his brother Rye was already watching him with a crooked grin, leaning against the doorframe like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to speak.

“I’m going upstairs with Sophie,” Peeta said plainly. “You’re in charge down here for a while.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem,” Rye said, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “Funny how you use condoms all the time and still end up with a kid.”

Peeta frowned, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck you,” he muttered, untying his apron.

Rye laughed as Peeta grabbed a couple of freshly baked cheese buns and a few donuts wrapped in paper napkins. He climbed the stairs quickly, the warmth of the café fading behind him, replaced by a quieter, heavier atmosphere upstairs.

Sophie was lying on the couch, curled on her side with her backpack still clutched to her body and her eyes fixed on the floor. She wasn’t crying, but her face carried a very broken expression. His chest tightened helplessly. He set the food on the table gently, stepped closer without making much noise and crouched down in front of her.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Everything okay, muffin?”

Her eyes stayed on the floor, he thought she wouldn’t respond at all. But after a long silence, her voice came out small and shaky.

“I’m sad… about my dad.”

Peeta swallowed, careful not to let it show. He knew this moment would come sooner or later, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“Why are you sad about him?” he asked gently, not moving from where he was. Sophie shifted a little, finally lifting her eyes to meet his.

“Because all the kids at school have dads who love them,” she murmured. “They take them to school, and go to the festivals, and science fairs, or they’re just… there. And I don’t have anyone like that.”

It hurt Peeta more than he could have imagined. He felt a pull inside him, sharp and deep, like someone had squeezed his heart between both hands. Slowly, he sat down beside her on the couch, leaving her some space, but making sure she knew he was there.

“Sophie,” he started, choosing his words carefully. “What you said… that’s wrong. And not true at all.”

The girl frowned, confused.

“You do have someone,” he continued softly, “you have your mom. And believe me, there are so many kids who would give anything to have someone like her.”

Sophie gave a small, sad smile and looked down.

“Your mom does everything for you, Soph,” he went on, “absolutely everything. She wakes up early even when she’s exhausted. She worries if you’ve eaten, if you’ve slept, if something made you sad or mad. She works all day to make sure you have what you need, but she still finds time for you. To listen to you, to hug you, to help you with homework, with everything.”

Sophie let out a tiny laugh, barely more than a breath. Peeta smiled and took that as a good sign to keep going.

“She loves you more than anything in the world, Sophie. And that’s worth a loooot more than having a dad. You’re not alone, and you never will be.”

Peeta’s voice dropped a little.

“And even though I’m not your dad,” he added carefully, “you know I’m here for you, right? Whenever you want, whenever you need me, in any way. You don’t have to ask twice.”

He knew he was stepping into dangerous territory, but he couldn’t stand seeing her like that. Sophie blinked, and this time her eyes shimmered. Peeta’s heart tightened again.

“Thank you, Peeta,” she whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me, muffin,” he said, brushing a hand gently through her hair.

After a moment, Sophie stood and walked to the table, where the donuts and cheese buns still sat wrapped in napkins. She picked up a donut with both hands and looked back at him.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Peeta smiled. “Of course I do. You pick.”

A few minutes later, the screen lit up with Tangled — Sophie’s favorite. They settled back onto the couch, each with a donut in hand. Peeta didn’t even pretend to resist when Sophie started quietly singing along to the songs, by the middle of the movie, he was humming with her.

When the movie ended, Sophie began talking about her day at school. She showed him what she’d learned about planets and math, told him her idea for the science fair, and mentioned that she was going to sing at the spring festival. Peeta listened closely, asking questions, laughing, raising his eyebrows as if every little thing she said was somehow fascinating — and really, it was.

After a while, Sophie moved to the rug with her colored pencils while he stayed on the couch, a book open across his lap. Some time later, someone knocked on the door. Peeta set the book aside, stood up and went to answer it. Katniss stood on the other side with a smile. Sophie saw her and immediately ran toward her, throwing her arms around her legs in a tight hug. Katniss bent down at once, burying her face in her daughter’s hair and kissing the top of her head.

“Grab your things, kid,” she said, “we’re heading home.”

While Sophie started stuffing her pencils back into her backpack, Katniss lifted her gaze to Peeta.

“Thanks for watching her,” she said sincerely.

Peeta shook his head. “It was nothing. We watched a movie, ate, talked… a lot.”

Katniss tilted her head. “Tangled?”

Peeta let out a short laugh. “Obviously.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. They just stood there, face to face, the open door between them. One more second and he would’ve wanted them to stay, but he didn’t say anything. Before leaving, Sophie gave Peeta a big hug and thanked him for spending time with her. When they pulled apart, he simply watched them go, his eyes following until the door closed behind them.

He walked back to the couch, planning to pick up his book again, but as soon as he sat down, he noticed something on the coffee table — one of the drawings Sophie had been working on before leaving.

He picked it up carefully, and as he looked at it, a knot formed in his throat.

There were three figures drawn in bold, colorful strokes: a woman with black hair, a man with yellow hair, and a little girl in a purple dress between them. Above them, written in big uneven letters, it read: Mom, Peeta and me.

He didn’t know what to do at first. He just sat there, the drawing in his hands, feeling something inside him loosen. It felt as if Sophie had opened a small door and let him in. Peeta pressed his lips together, lowered his gaze, and set the drawing against his chest as he leaned back on the couch. The paper crackled softly against his shirt. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t afraid of what he felt.

Peeta made himself a promise. He would stay for as long as it took. For Katniss and for Sophie.

Always.

“Happy birthday!”

Katniss blinked several times before she could fully take in what she was seeing. Her usually quiet living room was now full of people. Madge —her friend from the Inn—, her aunt, Rye, Lily —Sophie’s friend— even old Haymitch, along with other familiar faces from town and work. Everyone was wearing party hats, there were balloons sticked against the ceiling, and a big banner hung from the bookshelf that read: Happy Birthday, Katniss!

She just stood there, scowling slightly. It took her a few seconds, embarrassingly long ones, to remember. It was her birthday. She’d been so busy the last few days with shifts, homework, and classes that she had completely erased it from her mind. A nervous laugh escaped her lips, and she brought a hand to her mouth, unsure how to react. Just then, Sophie appeared at her side, wrapping her in a huge hug.

“Happy birthday, Mommy!”

Katniss clung tightly to her small body.

“Oh my God,” she said against her daughter’s hair, still stunned. “Thank you, kid.”

Sophie pulled back just enough to smile at her. No wonder her little girl hadn’t mentioned her birthday like she usually did every year.

“Guess whose idea it was,” Sophie said.

Katniss held her by the shoulders and narrowed her eyes playfully.

“This is completely Peeta’s doing.”

Sophie jumped in excitement. “Yes!”

Peeta appeared right then from the kitchen, smiling and holding a huge chocolate cake in his hands. In the center, two candles shaped like a two and an eight flickered. Katniss ran a hand over her face, unable to stop the blush rising to her cheeks. Everyone sang the birthday song, and Peeta stopped right in front of her, holding the cake, his blue eyes fixed on hers and that smile — the one that charmed her no matter how hard she tried to resist it.

“You’re making me feel old!” she said, half laughing.

Peeta raised an eyebrow with that same grin. “Relax,” he said, “twenty-eight never looked so good.”

Katniss didn’t know whether to laugh or blush harder, so she just lowered her gaze a little, smiling anyway, feeling a thousand butterflies flutter in her stomach like she was turning fifteen, not twenty-eight. Peeta lifted the cake slightly, leaning in just a bit.

“Make a wish.”

Katniss closed her eyes. She didn’t know what to wish for. Of course, she wanted many things — some big, some small. She wanted Sophie to always be happy, above everything else. She wanted stability and peace. To finally open the Inn. To finish university without having to postpone it again. But at that moment, surrounded by friends, the cake in front of her, Sophie at her side, and Peeta so close she could hear his breathing — the wish that crossed her mind was so simple it almost broke her.

I hope this year I will allow myself to finally be happy.

She opened her eyes, smiled, and blew out the candles.

After a few hours of laughter, conversations, hugs, and congratulations that made her feel a little more loved than she was used to, the house returned to its usual silence. The guests said goodbye, and when the door closed behind the last ones —Madge and Rye— only Peeta remained.

Katniss stood by the table, a trash bag in hand, tossing out paper plates, empty beer and soda cans, napkins. Peeta had taken Sophie to her room; she’d fallen asleep on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder.

“She’s tucked in,” Peeta said softly returning to the living room.

Katniss straightened up a little, smiling automatically. “Thanks, Peeta. I’ll go change her in a bit.”

Peeta shook his head, smiling faintly. “It’s nothing.”

They cleaned up together in silence, the only sound coming from the faint music playing in the background — low enough not to wake Sophie. Peeta carried out bags full of trash while Katniss wiped down the table with a cloth. He washed the few dishes that weren’t disposable, and she packed away the leftover cake and food Peeta and Rye had brought from the bakery. Between the two of them, less than half an hour, the house looked like a home again.

Finally, they sat down on the couch, the space between them smaller than usual. Katniss turned slightly to the side, tucking her legs up on the cushion and hugging her knees. She blushed almost immediately when she noticed the way Peeta was looking at her. His gaze was soft, almost like he was trying to memorize her, and that made her stomach flip. The unease didn’t come from him, but from what he made her feel: that warmth in her stomach, that subtle alert running up her spine whenever he looked at her like that. A shy smile curved her lips.

“Thank you… for this,” she said, “I’ve never had a surprise party before—or ever.”

Peeta shook his head slowly, but his smile widened.

“It was nothing,” he said. “I’d do anything to see you happy.”

Katniss didn’t know what to say to that. Peeta let out a quiet breath, then added softly,

“You look really pretty when you smile.”

The blush spread instantly across her cheeks, just like it would have if she was a teenager. Rarely, when Peeta said things like that, it made Katniss want to forget every wall she’d built, every promise she’d made to herself. It made her want to move closer, to close the distance between them, to slide her fingers through his curls and to kiss him until she ran out of breath.

But she couldn’t, not yet anyway.

Katniss hadn’t set foot in a classroom in a long time. Every time she walked past the bag where she kept her notes and books, a hollow feeling spread through her chest. She’d tried, really tried, to make it work. Balancing her shifts at the Inn, Sophie’s homework, the sleepless nights, the bills. But it was too much, everything at once, piling up.

And now that Sophie had set her sights on Chilton —a school as expensive as it was prestigious— everything had changed. Time wasn’t enough anymore, but worse than that, neither was the money. Still, Sophie was determined; she’d had her goals clear for years and that both terrified and filled Katniss with pride. She wanted to go to Yale, to study literature, to become a writer or an editor or anything that would keep her surrounded by books for the rest of her life. Katniss would do everything in her power to make that dream happen.

And Gale… well, Gale couldn’t —or wouldn’t— help.

He’d only seen his now teen daughter again a few months ago, after such a long absence that Sophie no longer called him Dad. It had been Katniss who insisted they meet, that they spend some time together.

Since then, he showed up every now and then. He’d call a week in advance, ask if he could visit, and Katniss always said yes. Sophie seemed to enjoy it, though she never talked much about it afterward. But when it came to money for Chilton, Gale had been clear — he couldn’t contribute. He said he was barely managing his own situation. Katniss just nodded, as if she didn’t know what it meant to struggle, as if she hadn’t spent the past fourteen years raising their daughter almost entirely on her own.

So she quit university. Asked them to freeze her courses, hoping it would only be temporary.

Since then, everything in her life had felt heavier. The workdays longer, her body more tired. And even though she tried not to show it, the frustration followed her everywhere. It showed on her face, in her body, in how dim her energy had become lately. But she kept going—for her daughter. That’s what she reminded herself every night when she came home from work, when she looked at Sophie fast asleep, a book open on her chest. Always for Sophie.

Peeta had offered to help her finish school, but she refused immediately.

She couldn’t allow it. It was already hard enough to deal with everything he did for them — the breakfasts, the surprise visits after long shifts, the chocolate donuts that magically appeared whenever Sophie had exams, the bag of cheese buns in her porch every Sunday when she had the day off. Accepting something as big as him paying for her university would be something else entirely. Too much.

But what was hardest to accept wasn’t the money. It was the affection.

Katniss wasn’t a fool — maybe he wasn’t in love with her, but she could tell that Peeta cared about her. But she was the one who had drawn the line between them. Letting Peeta in, letting herself be loved — it still scared her, even after all this time. And in some way she couldn’t quite explain, she knew it wasn’t just her he cared about. He cared about Sophie, too.

Gale had never really been there for either of them. But that didn’t matter anymore, she didn’t matter anymore — he only thing that did was Sophie.

But Peeta?

He was there when Sophie got sick in the middle of winter and Katniss went two nights without sleep — he set up camp in the living room and took care of both of them. He was there when Sophie won her first science fair and nearly knocked him over with how tightly she hugged him. He was there when Sophie lost a tooth over breakfast and thought she’d never eat normally again. He’d been at every spring, summer, fall, and winter festival. He’d read every story she’d ever written for school. He had her drawings taped to the bakery counter.

It was like he didn’t know how not to be there — and that was what scared Katniss most. Because she had never met anyone who stayed that long without asking for anything in return. And deep down, she was starting to realize she didn’t want him to leave, not ever.

Maybe it was time to do something about it.

She’d spent too long letting opportunities slip by, too long waiting for things to somehow fall into place. But nothing would ever be real if she didn’t move.

So after dropping Sophie off at Lily’s house, she got in the car and drove. It was Wednesday —Peeta’s night off— and though she didn’t really have a plan, she thought of inviting him out for a drink. A beer, maybe a walk in the park, anything — just an excuse to be with him… and talk.

When she parked on the street outside the bakery, she saw him through the windshield. Peeta was coming out, and he wasn’t alone. A blonde woman, around their age, walked beside him, smiling, their arms linked. The way he looked at her, his body language… there was no way to misinterpret it.

A sharp, sudden pain hit Katniss in the gut, so clean it stole her breath. She swallowed hard and stayed in the car for a couple of minutes, hands gripping the steering wheel, breathing slowly. Peeta hadn’t seen her —thank God— because she didn’t want him to see her like that, not any day.

Eventually, she stepped out of the car. She needed to buy something for dinner anyway; there was nothing at home, and Sophie was spending the night away. She walked into the bakery, shoulders tense, trying to act like nothing had happened. She greeted Rye, who was behind the counter —of course, because Peeta wasn’t, he was busy with someone just as perfect as he was, someone who probably didn’t have a child— and ordered a burger to go. Then she sat on one of the stools. Truth was, she wasn’t hungry, or in the mood for small talk — she did it anyway.

“Where’s Peeta?” Katniss asked, trying way too hard to sound casual.

Rye ran a hand through his hair.

“You just missed him,” he said, “he was with Delly, his friend. Well, his ex-friend-ex-girlfriend,” he added, laughing.

Ouch.

The words hit Katniss straight in the chest. So she wasn’t just a friend, she was someone with history. Katniss nodded silently, pressing her lips together, forcing back the sting behind her eyes, pretending her stomach hadn’t just tightened painfully. She paid for the food and thanked him, then walked out with her head down, the warm paper bag in one hand, the other shoved deep in her jacket pocket. Tears stung her eyes.

As she drove home, her mind wouldn’t stop repeating the same question, over and over.

What did she expect? That Peeta would wait for her forever? That he wouldn’t move on with his life? That he’d be satisfied with the occasional dinner, a bit of harmless flirting, and a woman too broken to say what she really felt?

He had every right to be with someone else, to want something simple, something uncomplicated, something she could never give him. So how could she blame him?

But it still hurt.

Now she understood that she did want something — that maybe she’d always wanted it. But not with anyone else, with him. And it was too late. Because out of fear of losing, she never realized she might’ve already won something. Worse yet, she lost him without ever really having him.

Peeta was in the back of the bakery with Rye, going over the list for the fifth time. Donuts: 60. Pumpkin cupcakes: 80. Chocolate cupcakes: 100. Cakes: 15. Thermoses of coffee, chai tea, hot chocolate — all packed and neatly stacked in boxes, ready for the night. And still, Peeta couldn’t bring himself to feel excited about it.

He’d never been much of a fan of the town festivals. Sure, he went, but he’d never run a booth before —and probably never would have— if Katniss hadn’t convinced him. And he couldn't say no to her. After all these years, it was still impossible for him.

Besides, Sophie was performing that night, and he couldn’t miss it. She might be sixteen now, but to him, she was still his little muffin. So even if he hadn’t signed up for a stand, he would’ve gone anyway. For her, for them.

Peeta had tried everything to move on.

He’d dated other people, buried himself in work, tried to focus on anything —anyone— that wasn’t Katniss Everdeen. But no matter what he did, everything always led back to her.

Delly was the clearest example of that. Their relationship was a loop that never seemed to end. They weren’t exactly a couple, but they weren’t just friends either. Sometimes they went out, sometimes they fought, sometimes they made up. They kissed. They laughed. They had sex. It all seemed fine — until it wasn’t. And the reason it fell apart was almost always the same: Katniss.

Delly called him out on it constantly, told him straight to his face what everyone else probably already knew — that he was way too wrapped up in her. But Peeta always denied it. He said they were just friends. That Sophie was like a little sister to him. That he only helped them because they didn’t have much support. That it was nothing more than that.

Bunch of crap.

Every time Katniss called, he answered. If Sophie needed something, he was already on his way. If Katniss asked for a favor, he didn’t even think twice.

Delly wasn’t stupid — she saw it all. She threw it in his face every chance she got. Peeta tried to reason with her, to sound logical, to convince her there was nothing between him and Katniss. And technically, he wasn’t wrong. Katniss had never given him a real sign, that was true. Nothing had ever happened between them, that was true too. But what he never said aloud, what he could barely admit to himself, was the truest thing of all: he was in love with someone who didn’t love him back.

So every time Delly left and he found himself alone again… he went right back to the same place. Thinking about Katniss.

That's why he always took Delly back. Because being alone meant always wondering if Katniss and he could ever become something more than just friends. That was his Achilles heel; it had always been her.

“Let’s take these to the front,” Rye said, lifting a box of paper goods.

Peeta nodded, picking up one of the boxes and walking toward the front of the bakery. They weren’t open today, so they wouldn’t be disturbing any customers.

But as soon as he stepped out front, he froze.

Standing there were Sophie, Katniss… and young man he didn’t recognize. He scowled instinctively. He set the box down on the counter but didn’t take his eyes off them. Then Sophie ran over, throwing her arms around him, and his expression softened immediately.

“Peeta!” she said brightly. “Is everything ready for tonight?”

“Of course,” he said, hugging her back. “All the food’s done—and I wouldn’t miss your performance for anything.”

Sophie grinned, stepping back as he lifted his gaze — there was Katniss, walking toward him with her arms open.

The hug caught him off guard, but not as much as seeing her like that. Her hair was down, which was rare for her, and a blue cap covered her head. Peeta held her tightly, tighter than he meant to, closed his eyes for just a second, and before he could stop himself, he breathed her in. Lavender, she always lavender. Now it was his favorite scent in the world.

The truth was, he’d missed them. A lot. It had been two weeks since he’d last seen them. Katniss had gone back to university, Sophie was now at Chilton, busy with a thousand different things, and between prepping for the festival and running the business, there was never a moment that lined up for any of them.

“I missed you,” Katniss said, running a hand through his curls as they pulled apart.

Peeta looked down with a nervous crooked smile. The blush crept up before he could stop it. After all this time, Katniss still had that effect on him. When he finally looked up, he noticed the other person standing beside Katniss and Sophie — a boy. Brown hair, tall, about Sophie’s age. Hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket, though he quickly pulled one out to shake Peeta’s hand.

“I’m Sam—Samuel. Sam Harris, sir,” he said, clearing his throat. “Nice to meet you.”

Peeta blinked, one eyebrow lifting slightly. His mouth opened, mostly from surprise, as he tried to keep a neutral expression. He returned the handshake and forced a polite smile.

“Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The boy took a step back, slipping his hands into his jacket again. Before the silence could stretch too long, Katniss broke it with a grin.

“Need help? That’s why we’re here,” she said, nodding toward the stack of boxes.

Peeta was about to reply when Rye appeared, carrying a pile of boxes so tall it nearly reached his chin.

“Yes, please,” Rye said immediately.

Sophie gave Sam a friendly pat on the back, and the two of them headed for the back of the bakery. Peeta followed them with his eyes until they disappeared from sight. Once he was sure they were out of earshot, he turned to Katniss, lowering his voice.

“What? There’s a Sam? When did that happen?”

Katniss laughed softly.

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “They met at Chilton. And they’re friends,”she added, making air quotes at the word friends. Peeta chuckled too, though not as easily. Katniss turned toward the kitchen, then looked back at him. “But it’s so obvious they like each other. Did you see them?” she teased. “They’re in that phase where they try to hide something everyone else can see.”

Peeta pressed his lips together and nodded. He felt a small, sharp pinch right in the middle of his chest. Because it was the same thing Delly had told him over and over: you’re both trying to hide something everyone else already knows — but he wasn’t thinking about Sophie and Sam.

The autumn festival was in full swing. Strings of lights glowed between the trees, the ground was blanketed with orange leaves, and the air smelled like food. Children ran holding sticks of cotton candy — Peeta couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, remembering Sophie at that age. There was live music, carnival games, booths selling crafts and food, even a stand where you could decorate your own pumpkin.

The Mellark booth was a hit. Donuts sold out in minutes, and the hot chocolate barely had time to be poured before another cup was ordered. Everyone agreed that the pumpkin cupcakes were the best in the festival.

Sophie sang just as the sun was setting, and the sound of her voice sent chills down Peeta’s spine, just like it always did. She sang “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” by Céline Dion. He knew she’d chosen it for Katniss — her favorite singer. The crowd went completely quiet through the whole song, and when she finished, the cheers and applause erupted all at once. Peeta clapped so hard his hands stung, and Katniss looked like she might faint from pride.

After a while, Rye left, saying he was heading over to meet Madge —his now girlfriend— and left Peeta in charge of the booth. Peeta nodded, a little nervous about handling the chaos alone, but only a few minutes later, Katniss appeared beside him, sleeves pushed up and her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She slipped behind the counter without asking him and started helping. She didn’t need directions; they moved together effortlessly.

She took the orders, smiled angelically, chatting with customers while he handled the drinks, counted the money and refilled trays. It was as if they’d done it a hundred times before. Every time she laughed at something a customer said, Peeta couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her. That laugh, that smile — it still hit him the same way it always had: that sudden flip in his stomach and the undeniable certainty that he truly loved her.

“What time does Sophie have to be back?” Peeta asked, handing Katniss a beer.

It was Sophie’s first date with Sam. Finally, a week ago, he’d gathered the courage to ask her out — and Sophie had said yes without a second thought. For Katniss, the whole thing felt strangely beautiful, and deeply nostalgic. Watching her daughter fall in love for the first time stirred something in her chest — nerves and tenderness. But it also scared her. Sophie was now a year older than Katniss had been when she’d had her. And though the comparison was inevitable, it was also unfair. Because while they looked alike, Sophie was steadier, more grounded, more sure of herself. Still, no matter how hard it had been, Katniss had never regretted that choice.

They’d already had the talk. It was awkward, yes, but necessary. They’d talked about boundaries, decisions, sex, emotions. Sophie hadn’t avoided the topic; she’d handled it with a maturity that both surprised and reassured Katniss. Her daughter had made it clear she would always make the right choice. Katniss believed her. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Sophie was nothing like she’d been at sixteen.

“Ten o’clock,” Katniss said, taking a sip of her beer. Peeta scowled, and Katniss laughed. “What?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Isn’t that kind of late? Four hours? Seems like… a lot.”

“I could’ve given her ten minutes and it’d be just as risky.” Katniss laughed. “My last ten-minute date gave me a kid.”

Peeta burst out laughing and lifted his bottle toward her.

They were sitting on the couch, beers in hand, a movie long finished on the screen. It was Friday night. With Sophie out and no classes the next morning, Katniss had invited him over, and Peeta had switched his free night with Rye’s just to come. Katniss glanced down at her bottle, then at him, hesitating before asking what had been sitting in her head all night.

“So where’s Delly?”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer — her stomach tightened instantly. Peeta huffed out a breath.

“We broke up. Again.”

Katniss tried not to react, but her body relaxed before she could stop it.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah. I’m used to it by now,” he said with a sigh, then chuckled to himself. “The only thing I’ll miss is having sex.”

Katniss felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She looked away, then she blurted, “tell me about it.”

Peeta frowned again, glancing over at her. She kept talking.

“I haven’t had sex in…” She lifted her left hand. All five fingers extended.

Peeta laughed. “Wow, that long?” Katniss nodded. Peeta took another drink of his beer before speaking again. “I think I’d lose my mind if it went a month, but five? No way.”

Katniss looked down, embarrassed, biting her lip before letting out a nervous laugh. Peeta noticed the shift, his expression softening — same smile but still raised brows.

“What?”

Katniss swallowed. “I haven’t had sex in five years, Peeta. Not months.”

Peeta had just taken a sip of his beer when she said it. He spit it out to the side, stunned.

“What? Five years? How? No way.”

Katniss covered her face with both hands, laughing in pure embarrassment. “Yeah—yes, okay? Stop looking at me like that.”

“No-no, I’m—not judging,” he said, recovering. “It’s just—wow. That’s very hard to believe.”

Katniss nodded, laughing but just as nervous as before. Peeta stayed quiet, leaning back against the couch, his gaze fixed on her. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were soft. And a little —no, very— intense. She could feel the air between them grow heavier, so she leaned forward, trying to change the subject fast.

“Why did you guys break up? You and Delly.”

Peeta looked down at the bottle in his hands, picking at the label with his thumb.

“I don’t know,” he said after a pause, shoulders lifting slightly. “It’s… complicated.”

“How complicated?” Katniss pressed, her brow creasing just a bit.

Peeta exhaled through his nose, still not looking at her.

“We broke up because of you.”

Katniss felt something shoot up from her stomach to her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was the three beers she’d had or Peeta’s words, but suddenly her whole body felt warm, and it was hard to breathe normally.

“What?” she managed to say.

Peeta ran a hand through his hair, visibly nervous.

“Yeah. Um—you’ve always been kind of a topic between us,” he admitted. “Since the very beginning.”

Katniss stared at him, speechless. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

“W-why—why?” she stammered.

Peeta finally looked up, meeting her eyes.

“Because she was jealous. Since the day she met you,” he said quietly, swallowing hard. “She’s always been jealous of you.”

Katniss didn’t move. Her hands felt hot, her face hot, her whole body felt hot. Her thoughts were spinning, but her body stayed still. All she could do was look at Peeta. They were sitting across from each other on the couch, knees nearly touching.

He didn’t look even slightly sorry for what he’d said.

“Why?” she asked again, her voice softer this time.

“Come on, Katniss,” Peeta said with a small laugh, his blue eyes steady on hers. “You’re the most incredible woman anyone could ever meet. You have an effect on people, it’d be crazy not to be jealous of you. Even I’m jealous—you’re just… perfect.”

Katniss couldn’t take it anymore.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his — hard.

Peeta’s eyes widened in shock, completely caught off guard, no chance to react before she suddenly realized what she’d done and pulled away as fast as she could.

“Oh my God, Peeta,” she said, her voice high and trembling. “I am so sorry—I don’t know what came over me, just—forget it, please—”

Peeta didn’t hear anymore. He closed the gap between them, his hand wrapping around her neck as he pulled her lips against him. Their mouths crashed together in a kiss that was fiercer, more desperate. And why wouldn't it be? They'd both been aching to taste each other almost from the moment they met nine years ago, but neither had ever mustered the courage to make the first move.

Peeta's hands slid down to her waist, drawing her forward until Katniss was straddling his lap, their hips grinding together. She clutched at his shirt, yanking him closer, her body instinctively rocking forward. The pressure of their bodies rubbing sent a moan escaping her lips against his neck as she felt his hardness pressing up beneath her.

Peeta's fingers traced the full length of Katniss's back, dipping lower to grip her hips and press her even tighter against him. Katniss could hardly believe the rush of sensations overwhelming her; it was beyond mere pleasure — kissing him alone felt better than any sex she'd ever experienced. Peeta slipped his hands under her shirt, fingers finding the clasp of her bra. Katniss pulled back from the kiss just enough to nod, giving him the go-ahead to unhook it. He didn't hesitate, fumbling with trembling hands until it came free. She shrugged the straps down her arms and slipped the bra out from under her shirt, and he eagerly grabbed the hem, yanking the shirt over her head in one swift motion. They were both starved for this, more than just sex — they craved each other completely.

Peeta was dying to see her, to touch her. When her breasts finally came into view, words failed him; she was stunning, infinitely better than in all those lonely nights he'd fantasized about her. Her nipples were already stiff, and he couldn't resist. He placed a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer as he captured one in his mouth. He sucked hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his other hand kneaded her opposite breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers. Katniss threw her head back with a loud moan she couldn't hold in any longer. Pleasure shot through her entire body, urging her hips to grind more urgently against Peeta's rigid center. He growled against her skin and switched sides, latching onto the other nipple with equal need. Katniss threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging gently to keep him there as her body arched into him.

"Get up," he commanded.

They both stood, hurriedly shedding their pants. Katniss was about to slide off her panties when she caught sight of him — his thick length standing proud before her.

"You're so—" She couldn't finish, just swallowed hard. Peeta gave a nervous smile and leaned in for a quick kiss, which spurred her to finish stripping. As her panties came down, Peeta couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the sight. The front read 'Wednesday,' even though it was Friday. It made him grin widely — that was so Katniss. "I didn't know I was going to have sex today," she said, her cheeks flushing bright red. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have worn these. Next time, I promise."

Hearing her say that made his cock twitch and harden even more. Once they were both fully naked, he gazed at her with pure adoration.

"You're so beautiful," he rasped, his voice thick. "I can't believe this is real."

Katniss blushed even more —if it was possible— and leaned in to kiss him again. Peeta sank back onto the couch, this time reclining fully and stretching out his arms to draw her in. She was about to lower herself onto him when Peeta shook his head, stopping her.

“I want you here,” he said, pointing to his face. Katniss furrowed her brow slightly, not quite grasping it at first, but her heart pounded harder than ever. “I want you to sit on my face,” Peeta clarified, his voice low and husky. “I need to taste all of you.”

His words sent a shiver through her. She obeyed, climbing onto the couch carefully. She straddled his face, knees on either side of his head, fully exposed and already slick from their earlier kisses. Peeta looked up at her, his blue eyes gleaming with raw hunger and gripped her hips to guide her down. When his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, Katniss gasped, clutching the back of the couch with one hand. He started slow, pressing kisses along her thighs, his tongue gliding over the soft flesh until he reached her core, parting her legs wider to fully reveal her to him.

Katniss moaned loudly, not caring about anything else — the pleasure was too overwhelming to hold back. Peeta devoured her with devotion, sucking on every fold. When he found her clit and circled it with the tip of his tongue in tight little swirls, she arched above him.

“Peeta, oh—oh God,” she whispered, her hips instinctively bucking to press harder against his mouth.

He growled in response, his hands tightening on her thighs. He plunged his tongue into her entrance, savoring every flutter of her inner walls. Katniss rocked atop his face, grinding herself against his lips and the tip of his nose, lost in the every feeling. Her moans grew louder as the orgasm built inside her. Then she tensed, her thighs quivering around his head. Peeta sucked harder on her clit while sliding two fingers into her, curling them to hit that spot deep within. Katniss cried out, her climax crashing over her.

Peeta held her steady, planting soft kisses on her thighs as she caught her breath, but he didn't wait long. She was startled when he grabbed her waist and flipped her over, positioning her beneath him. Katniss's back sank into the couch cushions, her body still trembling from the release. He settled over her, harder than ever, but his expression faltered for a moment as he remembered he didn't have condoms. He frowned, pausing.

“Wait... I don't have protection," he said, “doubt it, but you have a condom?”

Katniss rolled her eyes but then she reached up to stroke his cheek, her gray eyes sparkling.

“I'm on birth control,” she assured him, “so it's fine. Just—don’t come inside.”

The words eased his worry, and he leaned down for a deep kiss. Having tasted her, he'd never get enough.

Peeta positioned himself between her thighs and guided his cock to her entrance, rubbing the tip against her swollen lips to coat it in her wetness. Slowly, he pushed forward, easing just the head in first. Katniss gasped, feeling a slight burn at the start; it had been a while for her, and the stretch from his thick shaft was intense.

“Peeta…” she moaned, digging her nails into his shoulders. He paused for a second, kissing her forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

She nodded, biting her lip.

“Yes, keep going,” she said, “I need you inside me.”

Peeta pushed forward slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. His cock sank into the heat of her core and Katniss arched her back as she felt him completely, a moan escaping her lips while she adjusted to the fullness, the initial burn melting into pure pleasure. Peeta began to thrust with slow but deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in, feeling every contraction of her walls gripping his length.

“You're so—you feel—oh, amazing,” he growled against her mouth, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. She moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating between them as her hips rose to meet his.

“You can go faster—faster, if you want,” she pleaded, breaking the kiss for a moment. He obeyed, picking up the pace. His hips slammed against hers, faster with each thrust, hitting that sensitive spot inside her every time. Katniss moaned uncontrollably against his lips, their kisses were broken and wet, tongues brushing as the pleasure built. “Yes, like that—oh, fuck,” she wrapped her legs around his waist to deepen the penetration, lifting her hips slightly, “faster, Peeta, please.”

Peeta complied, and in the process, he slid a hand between their bodies, his fingers finding her sensitive clit. He rubbed it in circles, syncing the motions with his increasingly powerful thrusts. The couch creaked beneath them, the sounds of their ragged breaths and moans filling the room.

“I want to see you come again,” he murmured, his voice rough with effort, “I want to feel you.”

Her moans turned into choked cries against his mouth as the orgasm hit her again. Her walls clenched around his cock, making her tremble all over. Seeing her like that pushed him to the edge.

“I can’t hold it—I'm gonna come,” he grunted, pulling out of her with a sudden jerk just in time. His cock pulsed, shooting his load across Katniss's abdomen. She reached up to caress his face as he panted, collapsing beside her on the couch, their bodies pressed together in the afterglow of their finally consummated union. After a few moments of heavy breathing, she finally spoke.

“That was…”

“Amazing,” Peeta added. Katniss smiled and planted a quick kiss on his nose.

Clothes were scattered across the floor, the lights low, and the night perfect. Peeta’s hand brushed through her hair, and Katniss felt at peace, as if this was where she had always belonged and never wanted to move again.

Then the doorbell rang. Katniss shot upright, jumping off the couch.

“Shit. Sophie’s home. No way.”

Peeta checked his phone on the table. “It’s only nine ten.”

Katniss was already gathering her clothes in a panic. “Doesn’t matter. Get dressed. Now!”

Peeta didn’t argue. They both dressed as fast as they’d undressed. Katniss tried to smooth her hair with her fingers, and when she looked halfway presentable, she took a breath, forced a smile, and opened the door.

But when she saw who was standing on the other side, she froze completely.

“Gale.”

He smiled, casual as ever, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Hey, Katniss.”

She didn’t know what to say. She felt embarrassed — not for him, but for Peeta. The last thing she wanted was this.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Gale opened his mouth to answer, but Peeta appeared in the hallway, zipping up his jacket. Katniss felt her heart leap into her throat just as Gale spoke.

“Oh, hey. I’m Gale—Sophie’s father.”

Katniss turned her head slightly toward Peeta, searching his face for any sign of what he was feeling, but she couldn’t read him. His expression was neutral. Was he mad? Confused? Hurt? Peeta pressed his lips together, extended his hand.

“Peeta Mellark, friend—of Katniss.” The handshake was brief, almost cold. Then he added, “I was just leaving. Enjoy your night. See you, Katniss.”

He grabbed his keys from the table next to the door and headed outside. Katniss didn’t think — she followed, pushing Gale’s shoulder as she passed.

“Peeta, wait. We need to talk.”

He paused for half a second.

“Don’t worry about it, Katniss,” he said flatly. “We’ll talk later.”

Then he kept walking. She stood there, rooted to the ground, watching as he got into his car, shut the door and drove away.

When Peeta got home, he slammed the door behind him and stood there for a moment, forehead pressed against the wood, breathing hard. He felt tangled, knotted up in a mess of emotions he couldn’t even name.

He had crossed the line. That invisible, unspoken boundary he’d built between them for years — he’d broken it. And even if he didn’t regret it, even if what had happened that night with her had been the most real, intimate, and perfect thing he’d ever experienced, he knew he’d stepped into something that didn’t belong to him: Katniss’s family.

He dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, chest tight.

Of course it was about Gale. Peeta had spent years convincing himself it didn’t matter — that Katniss didn’t love him anymore, that there was no place for him in her life. But all it took was one moment, one doorbell, for that idiot to show up again as if he had every right to. And the worst part? To everyone else, he did. The man was perfect — how could Peeta compete with him? He was Sophie’s father. Katniss’s first love. They had a past, a family.

Peeta shut his eyes, frustrated. He wanted to hit him. For everything he had ever put Katniss and Sophie through, for everything he’d done and everything he hadn’t, and for showing up right when Peeta had finally let himself believe that things between him and Katniss were about to change. He’d imagined that moment with her a thousand times. What he hadn’t imagined was Gale standing at her door right after. It wrecked him. Broke him. But more than anything, it made him question if he was the one who was ruining something, taking a place that was never his to take.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and sank back onto the couch without even bothering to turn the lights on. He took a long sip from the bottle, eyes closed, head resting against the back of the couch. He didn’t want to think anymore, but his mind wouldn’t stop. It didn’t give him a single second of peace. All he could think about was her — her kisses, her body, the sounds she made, the way she felt against him.

And then —thank God— his thoughts were cut short by a knock at the door. He didn’t move at first. He wanted to pretend he wasn’t there, but deep down, he knew exactly who it was. Forcing himself to stand, he walked to the door and opened it.

There she was.

Katniss. Hair loose and a little messy, face tense, wearing that old sweatshirt she always wore when she needed comfort. Her gray eyes were filled with stress, and Peeta felt the blow in his chest before she even said a word. She didn’t wait for an invitation — just stepped inside.

“We need to talk,” she said, closing the door behind her. “The flowers—”

“I know,” he cut in quietly. “But let me talk first.”

Peeta pressed his lips together and looked down for a second, taking a deep breath before meeting her eyes again. She didn’t say anything — just crossed her arms tightly around herself. He swallowed hard and forced the words out before he lost his nerve.

“That was a mistake,” he said flatly. “It can’t happen again.”

Katniss blinked quickly, her expression shifting from confusion to something far worse — pure sadness. Her whole body seemed to tense; for a moment, she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, her gaze, or her words.

“What?” she whispered, so quietly that Peeta barely heard it.

His stomach twisted painfully. He swallowed, keeping his eyes down for a moment before forcing himself to look at her again.

“Katniss, I…” he inhaled deeply, steadying his voice. “I don’t want to ruin your chance to fix your family.”

She scowled, confused, but he didn’t give her space to respond. He had to finish.

“Sophie deserves to have her father around. And if you have that chance,” he said, each word feeling like it scraped his throat, “to fix things with him—to be together, to be happy, to give her that, then you should take it. I am willing to forget what happened today.”

Saying it felt like tearing something out of himself. But he couldn’t take it back now. Katniss lowered her gaze, breathing deeply. When she finally lifted her head again, Peeta saw it: her eyes shining with unshed tears. The knot in his throat tightened until it hurt. He couldn’t stand it. This wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he thought was right — for her, for Sophie.

“Is that what you really want?” she asked, voice trembling.

Peeta held her gaze for a long second.

“It’s what I want,” he lied.

Katniss nodded slowly.

“And what happens to our friendship now?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

He had no idea how to answer without giving himself away.

“We can still be friends,” Peeta said quietly.

Katniss took a while to answer. She stayed silent, staring at the floor; the only thing Peeta could see was the rise and fall of her chest. Finally, she nodded. When she spoke, her voice was barely there.

“I should go. Sophie got home a while ago and—well, I need to get back.”

He nodded, unable to say anything else. He followed her to the door in silence, keeping a careful distance between them. Katniss didn’t look back. She just opened the door and stepped out, closing it softly behind her.

Peeta stood there for a few seconds, staring at the closed door. Then he walked back to the couch and downed the rest of his beer in one swallow. Then another. And another. And another. Each time he lifted the bottle, the same thought echoed in his head: It’s time to let her go. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing this for Sophie. Because no matter how much he loved that girl like his own daughter, Sophie deserved to have her real father around.

But if there was one thing Peeta Mellark knew, one thing he was absolutely certain of, it was that he loved them both more than Gale ever could.

It had been three months since that night. The one that still kept her awake, replaying how everything had changed with a single impulse.

Since then, things with Peeta were… different. Not even in the very beginning of their friendship, when they were practically strangers, had things felt like this. Now there were no jokes, no long talks, no weekly dinners, no movie nights. Just silence, distance and hurt. Some days, Peeta couldn’t even look her in the eye—but only her. With Sophie, he was the same as ever: gentle and endlessly kind. And that, more than anything, broke Katniss’s heart a little more every day.

She regretted it —well, not that part, that part had been mind-blowing—, she regretted not thinking about what would come after. About not being brave enough to throw Gale out and talk to Peeta about what had really happened. That night hadn’t brought her clarity — it had only filled her with sadness.

The worst part was that Katniss didn’t even understand why Peeta had reacted the way he did. He’d obviously thought those flowers Gale was holding were for her, but they weren’t. They were for Sophie, a clumsy attempt to get closer to his daughter, congratulating her for making the honor roll at Chilton. Gale was more present now in Sophie’s life — but not in hers. Katniss hadn’t thought of Gale as anything other than Sophie’s biological father in years.

But she hadn’t been able to explain that to Peeta.

Maybe he’d pulled away because he cared about her too much, or because he didn’t, at least not in the same way she cared for him. Maybe crossing that line had only been curiosity, desire, the need to finally release years of sexual tension and see what it felt like. Maybe it hadn’t been what he imagined. Maybe he didn’t even like it that much. And Katniss couldn’t blame him; she was out of practice, her body wasn’t what it used to be. Her fears were too many. Maybe she hadn’t done it right. Maybe she hadn’t been enough for him. Maybe he thought that was all she had to give.

Now she just felt worse and very insecure, because in the end, beyond the physical, what truly hurt was losing Peeta as a friend.

No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn’t find a real reason for him to have pulled away… because the one Peeta had given her was so stupidly obvious it didn’t even count.

I don’t want to ruin your chance to fix your family.

What family? she thought bitterly. She already had a family, she had one for years, long before Gale came back into their lives.

Katniss had done everything she could to stop thinking about Peeta. She threw herself into her work at the Inn, and finally, things were starting to happen. She’d found the perfect place to open her own at a surprisingly good price. The dream that had once felt impossible was becoming real. Even better, she wasn’t doing it alone — she’d gone into business with Madge, her coworker and one of the few people she truly trusted. They’d signed the papers just a few days ago, and construction was set to start the following week.

And if there was one thing besides her daughter that made her smile, it was her graduation. After years of effort, of long pauses, of sacrifices, of studying with Sophie asleep beside her, she was finally getting her college degree that Sunday.

Now she was on her way to Lily’s house, where Sophie had spent the night. The plan was to pick her up, then drive to Hartford to shop for dresses for the ceremony. When Sophie climbed into the car, Katniss leaned over and kissed her cheek, smiling wide.

“Ready?” Katniss asked, turning toward her daughter as she started the car.

Sophie nodded, but before she could say anything else, she scowled — a gesture she’d clearly inherited from her mother.

“Yeah—but can we stop at Peeta’s first? I can’t find my history book and I’m pretty sure I left it there yesterday when I went for lunch with Sam.”

The mention of Peeta’s name sent a small ripple through Katniss’s stomach, but she kept her composure and nodded.

“Of course,” she said, steering the car toward the café.

When they arrived, Katniss shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and glanced around, searching for that familiar blond head — but he wasn’t there. Only Rye stood behind the counter, drying glasses with a towel.

“Rye! Did you see my history book? I think I left it here yesterday,” Sophie called out.

Rye looked up and nodded.

“Yeah, Peeta took it upstairs. Go grab it, it should be in the apartment.”

Sophie darted off toward the stairs, leaving Katniss alone. She sat on one of the stools by the counter, not entirely comfortable but trying not to seem too obvious about it. Crossing one leg over the other, she leaned her elbows on the counter and watched Rye work. For a few seconds there was silence. Then, nervously, she lowered her eyes to the countertop and asked.

“Do you know if… Peeta’s coming to my graduation?”

Rye lifted a brow, and gave her a side smile.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Katniss rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to sigh.

“Oh, sure, um—yeah, I’ll do that.”

Only if I wanted him to stay three kilometers away from me, she thought.

Rye didn’t answer, just went back to drying another glass. Peeta already knew she was graduating — it had been something they’d talked about long before they ruined everything. By having sex. And yes, he knew it was this Sunday; Sophie had mentioned it more than once when she’d dropped by the diner. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

“Everything okay between you two?” Rye finally asked, setting the clean glasses in their place.

Katniss felt the heat rise to her cheeks and clasped her hands tightly between her knees. She forced a small casual smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Oh,” Rye said, skeptical. “It’s just that I haven’t seen you guys spending much time together lately.”

Katniss forced herself to stay composed.

“We’ve just been busy,” she said, shrugging lightly. “You know, with the Inn and—everything.”

To be honest, she had no idea what Peeta’s been doing the past three months.

Sunday arrived. The day was bright and warm, the campus decorated with green and gold ribbons — the university’s colors. Katniss stood in line with the other graduates, the green gown draped over her new blue dress, the cap sitting neatly atop her loose hair and a knot in her stomach that refused to ease.

Madge was there, and right beside her, Sophie. She repeated to herself, over and over, that this was enough — that she didn’t need anyone else, that she couldn’t have everything, and that was okay.

She adjusted her cap again, clasping her hands together in front of her to keep them from trembling. Her heart was pounding; she’d never liked being the center of attention, and now that she was about to walk across that stage, her nerves were on edge.

“Trevor Evans,” the announcer called.

The applause began to swell as the boy in front of her walked across the stage. Katniss felt her legs trembling, her name was next. Her breathing quickened, but she forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly. This was it, the last step to close a chapter that had taken her years of sacrifices, work, and tears.

“Katniss Everdeen.”

The moment her name was called, Katniss felt her heart leap to her throat. She forced a smile as she walked up the steps to the stage, her cap slightly loose despite having adjusted it a hundred times. She looked out into the crowd, ready to find only Sophie and Madge… but she froze.

Peeta was there. Right beside her daughter.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and her lips curved into a smile, one filled with raw emotion and vulnerability. A knot formed in her throat, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. When their eyes met, the emotion hit her all at once. Her vision blurred — she blinked fast to keep the tears at bay, her trembling smile widening as her chest filled with warmth.

Peeta didn’t need words, his expression said everything: pride and nostalgia. He was clapping hard, the sound loud even from where she stood, and beside him, Sophie was jumping up and down, wrapping one arm around Peeta and the other around Madge, shouting “Mom!” over and over. That was it — Katniss’s heart completely gave in.

She smiled through the blur of tears, moving the tassel on her cap to the other side. Taking her diploma, she stepped down from the stage and rejoined her classmates, the applause still echoing around the hall.

Minutes later, hundreds of caps flew into the air. Katniss laughed as she hugged her classmates — she’d done it. She was finally a graduate.

When the ceremony ended, she made her way through the crowd, still a little dazed, until she saw Sophie running toward her. Katniss barley had time to adjust herself when she catch her, pulling her into a tight hug. She closed her eyes, silently thanking every force in the universe for letting her have her daughter by her side on this day. Sophie said she was so proud, so happy, and Katniss couldn’t stop smiling, or blinking fast to keep from crying.

Then she turned to Madge, who hugged her so hard her feet nearly left the ground. But when Katniss looked past her and met Peeta’s eyes, the air caught in her throat. She didn’t think twice, she walked straight toward him and wrapped her arms around him. Peeta pulled her close immediately, his arms circling her waist. Katniss tried to relax —and tried not to think about the last time they’d been this close— as she buried her face in his shoulder. He leaned down slightly, his voice a low murmur against her ear.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Katniss closed her eyes as she heard him, then Peeta added softly. “Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.”

Her eyes stung, and she fought to hold it together. Without pulling away, she whispered back, “Thank you for being here.”

Peeta didn’t hesitate.

“Always.”

“No, Peeta! It’s not going to fit through the door,” Sophie said, arms crossed. “Mom, tell him.”

Katniss rolled her eyes, laughing. “The kid’s right.”

Peeta dropped the mattress in defeat.

“Then you’ll have to help me, Katniss,” he complained.

Katniss placed a hand dramatically over her chest.

“That’s supposed to be your job,” she said, stepping closer and poking a finger at his chest. “You came here to carry the heavy stuff.”

Peeta leaned the mattress against the doorway, exhaling hard. The summer weather in New Haven didn’t help, nor did the fact that this was the fourth time he’d gone up those stairs carrying big boxes. But if Sophie needed help moving in, he was going to be there. He adjusted his grip and pushed again, but it was still stuck in the doorframe.

“Seriously?” he muttered, giving it another shove.

From inside the room, Katniss appeared again, peeking around the side of the mattress with an amused look.

“Sophie already told you—you’re pushing from the wrong angle.”

“I’m pushing with what’s left of my strength,” he said breathlessly, but managed a small smile.

She stepped closer, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the edge of the mattress.

“Look,” she said, shifting the base slightly to the side. “If you turn it like this, and then push up just a little…”

Peeta followed her directions. His arms burned from everything he’d carried that day, but as soon as he adjusted the angle, the mattress finally slid into the room.

“There it is!” Katniss exclaimed.

“You’re kidding… it was that easy?” he said, frowning.

“Apparently not for you,” she teased, giving his shoulder a quick pat.

Peeta let out a tired breath but couldn’t help smiling. The mattress was in, Sophie was officially moved into Yale — or almost. Him and Katniss still had to make another trip to Stars Hollow to bring more clothes. He leaned against the wall, watching Katniss tuck in the sheets while Sophie moved boxes of books around. For just a moment, he looked at Katniss with that familiar weight in his chest, the kind of nostalgia that never really went away. Sometimes he thought he’d finally gotten over her, but days like this reminded him he never would.

“Let’s go, Peeta,” Katniss said once the bed was made. “We still have one more trip before dark.”

He nodded, and after saying goodbye to Sophie saying they’d see her later, they left the dorm and headed toward Peeta’s truck. For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence filled the cabin until Peeta finally broke it.

“I can’t believe Sophie’s in college,” he said quietly.

“Trust me,” Katniss sighed, “neither can I.”

“I still remember that little girl who used to draw pictures and stick them on the counter,” he said, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. “Honestly, it makes me… emotional.”

Peeta kept his eyes on the road until he heard a couple of soft sobs beside him. Worried, he immediately pulled over to the side.

“Katniss…” he said softly.

She had her hands covering her face, her shoulders rising and falling with each sob. Peeta swallowed, his fingers trembling on the steering wheel, unsure what to do. Finally, Katniss spoke — her voice breaking through the tears but still gentle.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, still hiding behind her hands. “It’s just… I don’t know, everything hit me all at once.”

Peeta turned toward her, resting one elbow on the back of his seat. He kept a careful distance, but his attention was completely on her.

“It’s just…” Katniss quickly wiped her cheeks and let out a shaky breath. “It feels so real now, you know? Sophie’s growing up so fast. She’s going to stay there. She won’t be sleeping at home every night, I won’t be making her breakfast before school anymore—” she let out a small, broken laugh “—even if it was just a pop tart and some folded-up bills.”

Peeta chuckled under his breath, but his chest felt heavy.

“You’re doing exactly what any mom who loves her daughter more than anything would do,” he said. “It’s normal. And you don’t need to apologize for that.”

She looked at him for the first time, her gray eyes rimmed red with tears.

“I just—I don’t think I was ready,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “I raised her for this, to be strong and independent, but no one prepared me for when she wouldn’t need me the same way anymore.”

Peeta exhaled slowly. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. Should he touch her shoulder, her arm, her hand? Every option felt too risky, like any wrong move could undo all the fragile rebuilding they’d managed after everything. Still, watching her break like that — he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.

“She’s always going to need you,” he said softly. “Just… in different ways.”

Katniss lowered her gaze, swallowing hard, then nodded silently.

Peeta took a deep breath. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned toward her, wrapping an arm gently around her shoulders. Katniss didn’t resist—she let herself sink into him, her body curling against his chest. The moment her head rested over his heart, she started crying again.

Peeta closed his eyes and held her tighter, his thumb tracing slow circles along her arm while his other hand rested firmly against her back. He didn’t say a word, but he knew. He was going to be there, for as long as she needed him. Without thinking, he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender. God, he loved her so much.

When Katniss finally pulled back, their faces stayed just inches apart. Peeta lost himself for a second in her gray eyes — now red and teary, yet still so beautiful. He swallowed hard, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tried to ease the tension.

“I just realized you weren’t wearing your seatbelt,” he said quietly.

Katniss let out a tearful laugh, lowering her gaze.

“Oops,” she murmured, sliding back into her seat.

She buckled up this time, and Peeta turned back toward the wheel, starting the truck again. A few minutes passed in silence before Katniss looked over at him.

“Thank you, Peeta,” she said softly. “For this—for always being there for us, for everything.”

Peeta didn’t answer. He only tightened his grip on the steering wheel and swallowed hard. Because what he really wanted to say was, I want to be there for you, for the both of you, for the rest of my life. But he didn’t. It wasn’t his place.

So instead, he just smiled faintly and gave her a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

Katniss was at the inn, taking notes and double-checking the final details. She paced back and forth with her notebook in hand, marking suppliers, confirming that every delivery had arrived, making sure all the lightbulbs worked. The place was still a mess, but almost ready. Just one more week until the official opening, but the inauguration party was tomorrow, and it had her completely on edge — especially now that Madge couldn’t help. She had her own chaos to deal with: in less than twenty-four hours, she and Rye would be getting married.

Since Katniss was one of the bridesmaids and Peeta was the best man, they’d decided to go together to the wedding, as friends. Of course, they’d always been friends, right? Despite everything that had happened, somehow they’d managed to rebuild themselves, to reach a point where things felt steady again.

They had dinner together, went to town fairs, took long walks through the streets, spend the holidays together. He helped her with everything related to the Inn, sometimes their arms brushed, their shoulders bumped while joking around, the kind of brief contact both could handle. It felt almost like before — the only things they still avoided were spending too much time alone at each other’s houses, drinking alone, and definitely watching movies. Katniss didn’t know how to do any of that without remembering that night — the one they never spoke of again, both keeping it buried deep.

When Peeta had asked if she was sure it wouldn’t cause problems for her if they went to the wedding together, Katniss had gone blank for a moment. Why would it? With who? she’d thought. She’d only shrugged and told him everything was fine.

Besides, if anyone got into trouble, it would probably be him. Even if he hadn’t told her straight to her face, Katniss knew Peeta was seeing other women now. Small towns didn’t keep secrets. And no matter how hard she tried to push the thought away, she couldn’t help it — she envied them. She envied every woman who got to kiss Peeta, to feel his hands, to hear his laugh up close. She envied the ones who got to touch him, to be held by him, to feel what she had once felt during that almost perfect night. The thought of someone else moaning his name with the same urgency she once had made her blood boil. But what could she do?

They were just friends.

The next day, Peeta arrived an hour before the party. Katniss opened the door already dressed, wearing a deep red-colored dress that fit her perfectly, her hair loose in soft waves and just a light touch of makeup. She smiled nervously when she saw him standing there on her porch, his blond curls combed back, wearing a dark blue suit that somehow made him look taller and utterly impossible to resist.

When she stepped closer to greet him, Peeta leaned in and brushed a kiss against her cheek. Katniss caught his scent, that familiar, warm, masculine one that made her knees weak. As she pulled back slightly, she felt her insides grow warm.

“You look—” he paused, swallowing before smiling softly “—beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Katniss lowered her gaze, trying to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Peeta rounded the car and opened the passenger door for her. Katniss climbed in with a smile she tried to control but couldn’t. He shut the door gently and walked around to the driver’s side. They headed toward the church, Katniss ready to see her friend get married… while trying to ignore the whirlwind of feelings twisting inside her every time she looked at him.

Three hours later, Madge and Rye were officially husband and wife. The ceremony had been touching, filled with all their friends from Stars Hollow, many of them crying discreetly, or not so, in Effie’s —from the town council— case. Madge had looked breathtaking walking down the aisle in her white elegant gown.

Now, at her parents’ garden, the reception was the kind of party would be remembered for years. Lanterns hung between the trees, intertwined with garlands of flowers and dried leaves. Small pumpkins and blooms in shades of orange and brown decorated the tables. Since it was mid-October, Madge had chosen an autumn-themed wedding. There was a long table full of appetizers she’d made herself, and a live band filled the cool evening air with cheerful music. Peeta and Rye had handled all the desserts — including the three-tier wedding cake, ivory-colored and adorned with orange and brown flowers.

Katniss felt a twinge of sadness that Sophie couldn’t make it, but her daughter had to study for if she wanted to attend the Inn’s opening the next day.

After hours of helping with coordination and serving, Katniss finally collapsed into one of the round tables near the dance floor. She slipped off her heels under the table and rubbed her aching ankles, letting out a long sigh. A few minutes later, Peeta appeared with two glasses of something she didn’t recognize. He handed her one before sitting beside her.

“Thanks,” Katniss said, taking a sip and wrinkling her nose slightly at the taste. Whiskey and soda.

“Finally sitting down,” Peeta teased, taking a sip of his own drink.

Katniss let out a soft laugh.

“These heels are killing me, even if it doesn’t seem like it,” she said, slipping on the pair of slippers Madge had given as souvenirs.

After a few moments sitting quietly, Katniss noticed Peeta’s distant expression.

“Hey,” she said gently, leaning a little closer and resting her hand on his arm, “you okay?”

Peeta blinked, like he’d just come out of a trance, then nodded with a faint smile.

“Yeah, yeah… just a little sad. But not in a bad way,” he added quickly, “just—look at them.”

He nodded toward the garden, where Madge and Rye were smearing cupcakes on each other’s faces, laughing, very much in love. Katniss followed his gaze and smiled too, though there was a slight ache in her chest.

“I never thought Rye would settle down,” Peeta said with a small laugh, “and now here I am, at his wedding,” he let out a sight. “I never thought I’d say this, but—that’s all I really want. Someone who loves me like Madge loves him and he loves Madge.”

Katniss’s heart tightened.

She could tell him that she loved him like that — maybe even more than Madge and Rye loved each other. That she had loved him that way for years, that no one had ever made her feel so safe, so seen, so completely understood. But she wouldn’t say it. She was certain Peeta didn’t feel the same, and as much as it broke her, she knew that someday soon he’d find someone who truly loved him. Someone better for him.

But Katniss, being emotionally evasive as always, only looked down to hide the expression on her face. When she finally lifted her eyes again, Peeta cleared his throat and smiled, a little awkwardly.

“Uh… want to grab more food? Yours is probably cold by now, and the weather’s not helping,” he said.

Even though Katniss couldn’t bring herself to answer his earlier words, even though she knew they could never be anything, she wanted to feel him close just one more time before he eventually settled down with one of those women he’d been seeing lately. She couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t touch him the way she wanted to —that had been a mistake, she knew it now— but maybe… maybe she could still have him near, just for a little moment.

“How about we… dance instead?” she asked softly.

Peeta raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. He stood and extended his hand toward her with a gentle smile.

Katniss took it and together they walked to the dance floor. A soft piano melody filled the garden. Once near the center, Katniss looped her arms around his neck. Peeta hesitated for a moment before resting his hands lightly on her waist. The moment his touch met her skin through the thin fabric, a shiver ran through her.

They began to sway, slow and a little clumsy at first, but perfectly in sync. The rest of the world blurred away. Katniss felt her heart climbing to her throat; she couldn’t stop looking into his eyes — so blue, so intense she almost thought she could see her reflection in them. She felt foolish for staring, and even more for wanting to kiss him so badly. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his chest to escape his gaze, Peeta didn’t move away. They danced through that song, and then the next one, and another, and another. Katniss forgot her aching feet, forgot the world. There was only him, and her, there together.

When the music finally faded, they slowly pulled apart. Katniss looked up, meeting his eyes again. Peeta opened his mouth as if to say something, but shut it right away. Her chest tightened, her breath shallow from having him so close — his scent, his warmth, his hands still lingering at her waist.

Her eyes drifted down to his lips, red from the cold, and at that exact moment, Peeta wet them with his tongue. Katniss leaned in slightly, just enough for their noses to brush. What if…?

But she caught herself, forcing reality back into her lungs, and stepped away quickly.

“I have to go,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

“Let me drive you,” Peeta offered, but she shook her head, already stepping back. Each step widened the space between them until she disappeared into the crowd, leaving her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

When Katniss got home after walking for a while, she leaned against the door, breathing deeply. She was on the edge — seconds away from breaking down, from crying, and she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t hold it in anymore. The knot in her throat burned. Just as she was about to slide down to the floor, she heard footsteps and looked up sharply.

Sophie stood there in her pajamas, frowning, holding a book in her hands.

“Mom? Are you okay?” she asked, taking a few steps toward her.

Katniss straightened immediately, trying to compose herself, swallowing down the tears.

“Yeah,” she answered quickly. “What are you doing here? I thought—you weren’t supposed to get back until tomorrow.”

Before Sophie could answer, Katniss headed straight for the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and sat down at the table. Sophie followed, still eyeing her suspiciously and sat across from her, setting her book aside.

“I decided to come home early,” Sophie said. “I missed being here, so I figured I’d study at home instead.”

Katniss drank nearly the whole glass in one go, her daughter watching silently.

“Mom, you’re clearly not okay,” Sophie said, scowling even deeper—looking more and more like her mother. “You look like you’re—about to cry. What’s going on?”

Katniss stayed silent, staring at the table, but finally spoke.

“Peeta…” She instantly regretted saying his name. She didn’t feel right dumping her love life —if it could even be called that— on her daughter. But she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Things with Peeta haven’t been right lately. I just… I don’t know, I think—”

“You’re in love with him?” Sophie cut in, grinning like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Katniss froze, blushing furiously.

“What? No. Of course not,” she said, way too fast.

Sophie rolled her eyes, the kind of dramatic, teenage disbelief that only she could pull off.

“Mom, please.”

Now Katniss frowned, but Sophie just tucked one leg onto her chair and went on.

“It’s so obvious. Not always, but at least since I’ve been old enough to understand relationships, yeah. It’s pretty obvious.”

Katniss’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her chest.

“What? No, it’s not,” she insisted, but her voice lacked conviction this time.

Sophie laughed, shaking her head.

“Mom, everyone thinks so. You have no idea how you look when you see him—or how your whole face changes when he calls. Or that time at graduation? You love him. Anyone paying attention could tell.”

Katniss lowered her gaze, her heart pounding so hard it almost hurt. She didn’t know what to say—what could she possibly say? Sophie reached out and placed her hand gently over her mother’s.

“And if it makes you feel any better… he does too.”

Katniss looked up sharply, scowling at her daughter, but Sophie only pressed her lips together before continuing.

“Peeta clearly loves you too. Why do you think none of his relationships have worked out in the last twelve years? Why do you think he’s never settled down with anyone, like Delly? Why do you think yours haven’t worked either?” She gave a soft laugh. “I mean, I don’t know much about your private life, and honestly, I don’t want to, but I can tell you this—no man has ever loved you the way Peeta has, all these years.”

Katniss swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of every time she’d tried to deny it — even to herself.

“It’s complicated, Soph,” she finally murmured. “It’s not that simple.”

Sophie smiled gently, her tone soft but certain.

“I know. But sometimes the right thing isn’t simple. Just think about it, okay?”

Katniss held one end of the red ribbon in front of the Forest Inn while Madge held the other. A countdown began among the gathered crowd, and when they finally cut it, applause filled the air.

“We did it!” Madge exclaimed with a radiant smile, throwing her arms around Katniss in a hug.

The place was everything Katniss had dreamed of for years.

The lobby wasn’t that big but it was warm and welcoming. A wooden wall stretched behind the reception desk, decorated with fresh flowers, and the room was filled with vintage lamps they’d found in antique shops all over the nearby areas. Sofas of every size, a bookshelf stacked with all kinds of books for guests to borrow, and like the lamps, candles scattered everywhere filling the air with a soft scent.

The restaurant tables were decorated with glass vases and napkins folded into different shapes — Sophie’s idea, of course, reminding Katniss of all the times her daughter had folded napkins at Mellark’s when she was little. The chairs didn’t match but were carefully chosen to give the place a cozy, lived-in charm. At the back was the kitchen, where Madge was currently losing her mind trying to finish the appetizers for the night. Between the three of them —Madge, Katniss, and Sophie— they’d be serving the guests themselves until the official staff started the following week.

Even Haymitch came, and sat at a table by the window so he could sneak a cigarette now and then, no matter how many times Katniss told him to step outside. Sophie walked around offering trays of food, Lily chatted happily with some friends, and even Gale was there — sitting with Effie and a few of the townsfolk.

Of course, Katniss didn’t invite him, Sophie did. It had been more than six months since she last saw his father, and as much as Katniss despised the man, Sophie still wanted to maintain some sort of relationship with her father and Katniss couldn’t deny her that. She didn’t understand it, though. Gale had barely been around lately, not since he started seeing someone.

And then there was Peeta.

When he walked in, Katniss froze for a bit. He wore a rolled-up white shirt that hugged his forearms just right, holding a cake box in one hand —made by him, obviously— and on top of it, a bouquet of flowers. He smiled at her as he approached, and she felt like her entire insides were melting. Peeta, however, acted as if nothing had happened the night before, as if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of the dance floor, about to kiss.

He set the cake and flowers on one of the tables, then pulled her into a quick hug before she could even react, congratulated her, and joined Rye for a drink. Katniss thanked him, pretending to stay calm, and after that, she did everything she could to ignore him, at least until the right moment.

Because this time, she wasn’t going to let him slip away. Not yet. This time, she was going to tell him everything. What she felt for him now, what she had truly felt that night, and what she’d been feeling for the last twelve years.

It was just a moment. It was, right? That’s what Peeta kept telling himself. The truth was, Katniss confused him more than anyone ever could — but one thing he was sure of, was that they had almost kissed.

He sat at one of the tables near the fireplace, where he could see most of the room without being in the center of it. But what he couldn’t stop himself from doing was watching her. Katniss looked… radiant. He could tell she was nervous, he knew her too well, but she also looked happy. And that alone made his chest tighten.

He had promised himself to keep his distance and act as if last night hadn’t happened. After all, the last time he’d distanced himself from her, after they’d slept together, it had nearly destroyed him. Being away from her wasn’t an option anymore. He couldn’t, not after all these years. Not after everything they’d been through. He couldn’t imagine a life without Katniss, or without Sophie.

So he’d done what he could: smiled, handed her the cake, gave her the flowers, congratulated her… and quietly stepped back.

Sophie had arrived soon after to his table, hugging him like always. She filled him in on everything: her new classes, how she’d joined the college newspaper, the stress of exams, her relationship with Sam, how much she missed Stars Hollow. She was growing into such a strong, bright young woman —even more— and he was so proud of her, proud in a way that made his heart ache, as if she were truly his daughter.

When Sophie went off to help in the kitchen, Peeta found himself alone again. He turned his attention to his phone until it died, then lifted his head to look for Rye and ask for a charger — that’s when he spotted Gale.

He rolled his eyes and tried to ignore him. He hates the man. Always had.

Peeta forced himself to keep his composure — what else could he do? Of course Gale would be here; he was Katniss’s partner, Sophie’s father, part of the family she’d built long before him. Still, it ached. Every time he saw him, that old, bitter jealousy twisted in his chest. He hated knowing Gale had a part of Katniss that he would never have. He hated that she had a child with him. Hated even looking at him. Hated imagining him touching her. Hated knowing he could never truly compete with him.

Peeta inhaled deeply, then exhaled, and fiddled with the edge of a napkin to calm himself. After a few moments, he stood up. He walked to the Inn’s main door, pushed it open, and stepped out onto the front garde , where the cold autumn air greeted him like a slap.

The sky was clear despite the cold, and the string lights wrapped around the trees shimmered softly in the dark. He spotted one of the benches under a tree and started toward it. He just needed a minute. To breathe, to clear his head, to get away before Katniss walks up and kisses Gale or something equally unbearable.

He was just about to sit down when a voice called from behind him.

“Peeta!”

He turned, scowling.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Katniss jogged toward him, leaning forward with her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh God, I need to start working out again,” she said between laughs, “I can’t run twenty meters without feeling I might die.”

Peeta raised his eyebrows, but his expression softened when she finally straightened up and he met her gray eyes.

“Don’t go, Peeta,” Katniss said.

“I wasn’t?” he replied, his tone sharper than intended.

Katniss pressed her lips together.

“Oh, I just—um, you looked upset earlier, and… when you left, you slammed the door.”

Peeta blinked; he hadn’t even realized he’d done that.

“So I thought you were leaving,” she continued. “I was going to come after you, but Gale started talking to me—”

Peeta rolled his eyes hard, letting out a loud, frustrated sigh. He turned away from her and braced a hand against the nearest tree, his jaw tight.

“Peeta?” she asked softly.

“What?” he snapped.

Katniss’s eyes widened. He never raised his voice at her.

“I’m sorry, Katniss,” he said quickly, his voice breaking a little. “I—I don’t even know why the hell I’m so pissed. I just—I’m pissed that he’s here.”

Katniss opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her the chance to respond.

“I try not to be,” he went on, voice low but shaking. “God, I try. But it’s so fucking hard.” He exhaled roughly, then added, “And I’m sorry… for last night.”

“For… what exactly?” she asked carefully.

Peeta let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“For almost kissing you.”

Her expression shifted, something flickering behind her eyes that he couldn’t quite read.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that,” she said quietly.

“Yes, I do!” he shot back—too loud, then softer, but just as raw. “You’re with him!”

This time, Katniss scowled, her chest rising and falling faster.

“Believe me, I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to care,” Peeta continued, his voice trembling between anger and heartbreak. “Not to care about you, not to love you—but fuck, Katniss, you make it impossible!”

Her eyes glistened, blinking rapidly. She pressed a hand against her chest.

“You—love me?” she whispered.

Peeta let out a broken laugh, almost disbelieving.

“You didn’t know? Please.” He dropped his gaze to the ground, shaking his head. “I probably loved you from the start. What else was I supposed to do? I thought it was obvious. You’re supposed to let your actions speak, right? That’s what I did!”

“You’re supposed to speak yourself!” Katniss yelled, her voice cracking.

“And why is that?” Peeta shouted back. “I did everything right! I tried to keep myself apart, not get involved in your life, or Sophie’s. I didn’t want to take a place that wasn’t mine, no matter how much I wanted to! I never wanted to replace her father—I just wanted to be there, to be with you two, to be your family!”

Peeta lowered his gaze, his voice breaking.

“Every time I thought I had finally gotten over you, you sneaked your way back into me again. Like a disease, all the fucking time. All I did was to think about you.”

He lifted his head, meeting Katniss’s stunned expression, but he couldn’t stop.

“When we—when we had sex, I was a fucking goner. I’ve been a goner since the first moment I saw you smile. I needed you so bad and… it seemed like you needed me too. ‘Things are going to be different from now on,’ I thought. But then Gale showed up—”

“Oh my God. Shut the fuck up, Peeta!” Katniss shouted, and now Peeta was the one in shock. “My fight with Gale was always about my daughter, not about me! I haven’t kissed him probably since we—made Sophie, and ugh! I’ve never cared about him, not truly! We’re not together, we never were! So can you please stop mentioning my ex? He’s here because Sophie invited him, and I’m not going to fight with my daughter because she wants to spend time with her stupid father, no matter how much I dislike him!”

Peeta felt as if he’d been trampled by a hundred stampedes, drowned, thrown off a bridge, and then hit by a train.

“All this time, I thought you didn’t feel the same way I did,” Katniss continued, lowering her gaze. “Just like you thought it was obvious that I knew you loved me, I thought it was obvious that you knew there was nothing between Gale and me after Sophie. I always thought it was just an excuse not to be with me.”

Katniss took a step toward him, and Peeta instinctively took one back, confused.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Katniss let out a dry, frustrated laugh.

“I’m going to kiss you, you idiot!” she shouted.

She didn’t wait any longer. She closed the distance, her hands cupping Peeta’s face, pulling him toward her. With years of bottled-up anger, of missed chances, of words left unsaid.

It wasn’t a rushed kiss this time nor impulsive. Katniss’s lips met his with a patience that clashed the strength she’d used to pull him close. Peeta froze for only a heartbeat before his hands found her waist, holding her firmly — he would never let her go again. There was no past anymore, only them, beneath the warm glow of the lights strung through the trees and the chill autumn evening.

When they finally pulled apart, they didn’t move far. Their breaths mingled in the small space between them, their foreheads resting together. Peeta kept his eyes closed; Katniss looked at him, her eyes shining, a soft smile trembling on her lips.

“I’m so sorry,” Peeta whispered. “For everything… I love you. I’ve always known, since the first moment you walked into the diner—” the words started to fade from his head, too full of feeling to continue. Katniss smiled, and Peeta opened his eyes at last. They had never seen each other so vulnerable. “I love you. I love Sophie, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I love you too, Peeta.”

He didn’t need anything else. He kissed her again — this time with certainty. His hand slipped down her back, pulling her fully against him. The kiss was deeper and hungrier but full of relief and years of love compressed into one moment.