Much later – after the Mayor finally leaves; after Madge, and Gale, and Katniss' parents, and all the other shocked and ashen-faced well-wishers have gone home– Katniss climbs the Mellarks' rickety staircase and makes her way to Peeta's bedroom.

The door to his room is slightly ajar. She nudges it open a few more inches with her foot and steps inside.

"Peeta?" she asks, tentatively, closing the door behind her. The sun set hours ago, but his bedroom is illuminated from the moonlight streaming in through his open window. She can see him easily, lying face-up on his bed, his tousled hair scattered on the pillow, his brilliant blue eyes wide open and staring blankly at the ceiling.

He blinks several times when he hears her voice. He turns his head to look at her.

"Hey," he says, weakly. He gives her a small nod. "Come on in, Katniss. I'm here."

Peeta disappeared from the crowd of mourners in his family's small living room several hours ago, after first pulling Katniss aside and confiding that he couldn't bear being around all those people one minute longer. When people asked her where he'd disappeared to, she lied to every single one of them, saying she had no idea.

She'd felt absolutely useless today, ever since Darius came into their classroom this afternoon and told Peeta in a hushed voice what had happened. Protecting her best friend from the unwanted intrusion of friends and strangers was one small thing she could do.

After Peeta beckons her to enter his room, Katniss walks as quietly as she can to the edge of his bed. She lies down next to him, pulling him close. Just as she's done countless times. He buries his face in her shoulder and shudders violently against her, but he does not cry.

They aren't usually so brazen as to snuggle like this – in his bedroom; with the lights off and the door shut – when his brothers and mother are still in the house. But if any of the other Mellarks care, or even notice, that she's in here with him right now they don't do anything to stop it.

Amid the sorrow and the shock and the loss of the day, neither of Peeta's brothers, nor even his mother, gave voice to the idea that everything is going to change now. But there's no denying it. Bertrand Mellark was not just the mild-mannered baker who everyone in District Twelve liked; who stood up for his boys when his wife was in one of her violent moods.

In truth, Peeta's father was the very glue the held the Mellark family together. And the bakery that exploded today was all that stood between his boys and the dust most of the rest of District Twelve lives in. It's what kept a roof over his boys' heads, it was the reason they had food in their bellies every night – and it was the only reason Peeta and his brothers never had to take out tesserae.

Now, the Mellarks have nothing. No protector against their mother, no money. No hope.

They lie together in the semi-gloom of Peeta's bedroom, on his narrow bed, for what feels like hours, hands clasped tightly together between their bodies. Katniss wants to say reassuring things to Peeta. She wants to tell him she'll bring extra kills to his house whenever she and her father have a good day. She longs to tell him everything will be all right – that together, with her helping him, they'll get through this.

She opens her mouth to speak.

"Peeta," she says.

Without warning, he presses his mouth to hers; tentatively, and uncertainly, but with enough intent it cuts off the rest of what Katniss was about to say. She kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and whimpering sympathetically against his lips, promising herself that she will do whatever it takes to keep this boy safe.

a/n: This is the prologue to what will ultimately be a short WIP. Originally written for the "Blue" prompt in August, 2014's Prompts in Panem. Thank you for reading. :)