I move quietly through the house, scanning the rooms for my bow and finally finding it up against the fireplace. I swing it onto my shoulder, pick up my water bottle and a small sack of nuts and berries and head out for the day.

It's early and Prim and my mother are still tucked away in their plush beds in our new home in Victor's Village. I secretly miss when Prim and I slept together in our old home in the seam, but I'm glad for Victor's Village. I'm glad even though I can't stand it. For them, it's a serious upgrade, full of the comforts they couldn't have dreamed of before. For me, it's a reminder of all of the people I murdered and saw murdered in the arena. And now a reminder of the certain punishment that is to come.

The sun is coming up as I walk out the door. Gale won't be at our spot for a while, but I'm looking forward to a little time alone. I notice that with the orange-red sun rising in the background, District 12 almost looks pretty.

I pass Peeta's house and inadvertently lower my head, even though I'm sure he's sleeping and wouldn't notice me even if he were awake upstairs. We haven't been alone together hardly at all since the train, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm avoiding him, he's avoiding me, or both.

As I'm trudging through the town, I smell a delicious scent of rich, fresh bed. Peeta's up, I realize. It's too late for me to bypass the bakery so I try to slip by quietly.

But there he is. Outside, sweeping the leaves that encompass the steps to the shop. He seems to notice me instinctively and looks up.

There's a moment where neither of us say anything. But we've inadvertently caught each other's eyes, and it seems difficult to break away.

"Hi," he finally says, quickly looking away. "Headed to the woods?" He says again, but focuses on the broom in his hands.

"Yeah," My voice sounds so strange, and I wish I could offer him more than 'yeah', but it's all I can muster.

He walks inside the bakery suddenly and I wonder if he's done with this conversation, but hesitate to leave.

Then he comes out with a fresh loaf of bread. He meets my eye and throws it gently toward me. I catch it and cannot help but offer a very slight smile, reminded of that day in his backyard.

"Thanks, Peeta. See you," I say and turn around.

"See you."

My time alone in the woods is less relaxing after my run in with Peeta, because my mind is racing again, flooded with the memories I've been trying to stifle. We've been home about a month. It's just this last week that I've been able to forget about what happened. To at least temporarily think about other things.

Because what happened is just so complicated. Well, maybe not what happened. I guess what was easy. Everything after is what's been so difficult.

I open my pack and take out the fresh bread, and its scent wafts through the air. Sure enough, it's loaded with nuts and berries. I break off a chunk and it is as delicious as I remember it.

I miss Peeta very much. I miss his arms around me, I miss hearing him laugh. I miss sleeping next to him. Mostly, I think, I just miss his presence. This is why even these last few weeks, I take any chance to have a "meeting" with Peeta and Haymitch; I want to be around him. I just don't know what to say.

It was the night after one of our victory speeches when the old man, and others, had been murdered after Peeta and me left the stage. I had tip toed down the hall and opened the door to Peeta's room without even knocking after I was too tired to sob anymore, terrified of what awaited us and everyone else I'd hurt in my wake.

"Hey," He'd said, quickly realizing I'd be crying. "Are you okay? Come here," and I remember him immediately taking me into his arms, without question. Like he couldn't stand my pain any better than I could.

As we lay there, I thought about how he'd pledged to give a month of his winnings to the families of Rue and Thresh. I knew it'd never happen; we'd either be dead before it could or the Capitol would prohibit it. But I couldn't find words for what his sentiment meant to me, for what it meant to everyone. So I kissed him.

In the peace and silence of the woods, my mind goes back to that night.

He kissed me back, surprise all over his face.

"Katniss?" I think he wanted to say more, but I knew what he was asking.

"What you did for Rue, for Thresh," I start. "Thank you Peeta. Thank you."

"You know they'll never get any of it," Peeta says. "But I'd give them that and more, if I could."

"I know. Maybe we can do something for them? Try to send whatever we can, before the Capitol stops us?"

"Maybe. We can try. Let's try?"

"Okay," I agree. "We'll send something. When we get back, first thing."

I kiss him again. His face lights up when he realizes I'm going to, but his kiss is still slight and careful.

"I feel like we're back in the cave again, with all this kissing," Peeta says with a smile.

I laugh a little, the mood now lightened. And I blush, because I'm kissing him for real now. It's not the first real kiss for me, but it's the first one he can say for certain is not for any cameras.

Thinking about this, I say, "A little different this time," and I realize the implication I've made after it's too late.

I put my lips to his again. He kisses me back, but it's very guarded and unsure. I wonder if he still thinks that this is part of the show, even here in his room where it's just us.

"Please kiss me back," I say. And that must be all he needs to hear, because he does.

I remember the night so well, the feeling of his soft hands running up and down my back, cradling my head as we kissed. I could tell he was enjoying every moment like they might be the only moments with me he got.

I pulled away and looked at him, studying him. His hair fell in on his forehead, out of place, and his eyes were bluer than ever. He sighed and confusion was everywhere, in every crevice of his face.

"Why are you doing this, Katniss?"

Great question, I think. I wait to answer, thinking maybe something will come, but it doesn't. So I say the only thing that makes any sense.

"I don't know. Trust me?" I ask, and it takes us right back to the night with the berries.

"Ok. I trust you," He says, after pausing for a moment. The look on his face is still uncertain, but this time he kisses me hard, passionately, like he means it.

The feeling spreads from my chest all throughout my body, down my legs, arms. My arms tingle when he touches them. Every time they're separated, my lips seek his out in desperation.

I realize I'm losing a little of myself in this moment. I am losing some of carefulness, some of my hesitance. My normal walls have crumbled in the wake of what's happening. Logically, I know this is a mistake; that nothing good will follow but more confusion and hurt. But it feels good right now. And that's all that matters to me.

Then I'm taking his shirt off, and mine, too. The feeling of skin on skin is almost too much for me, and I moan out in pleasure. I can't help it; I've never felt this kind of sensation in my life. I rub against him, reveling in it.

His eyes are glazed over with lust and love, as he watches me enjoy his body. I think he's finally done fighting me on this. After all, he's a teenage boy. If this is so unbelievable for me, I can't imagine how it feels for him.

"Katniss," he moans, like he's reading my thoughts.

"Take off your pants," I hear myself suddenly saying. "Now."

His eyes widen, hearing me say this and understanding what it means. Peeta gets that this isn't another cave situation. That I want more.

Soon we're both lying there, naked. I watched him scan my body when I removed my bra and underwear, taking every inch of me in. He watched me wide eyed and fascinated, like my body was piece of ancient art.

The only thing that was bothering me was the constant look of love in Peeta's eyes. Lust was there; you couldn't miss it. Passion was there and he was hungry for me. And I thought at some point the lust would win out and I wouldn't constantly be aware this person was in love with me, but it was always in his eyes, even at the height of his pleasure. Always making me feel guilty.

But I ignore this and continue, because the moment is undeniably perfect. I lay on my back and flip him on top of me. I position him to enter me, and suddenly I'm nervous. I didn't expect to lose my virginity on a train during the hunger games victory tour. Really, I didn't know if I'd ever be intimate with anybody.

But here I am, staring into the blue eyes that saved my life. The boy that had a crush on me for most of his life, whose name just happened to be pulled out of that drawing to meet me on stage. The boy with the bread. This person who changed my whole life. I'll surely break his heart after tonight, because I'm not someone with anything to offer him.

And so I tell him, "Peeta, I'm glad it's going to be you."

His expression is serious and intense, and I feel like the gravity of the moment is hitting him, too. After what seems like an eternity he leans down and whispers in my ear, "It couldn't have been anybody but you."

Warmth from his words rushes over me, and then there he is, slowly entering my body. It hurts, but I know even a slight wince will make him stop, so I bite my lip and encourage him to continue. He moans softly as the length of him enters me.

He must have noticed my well-concealed discomfort though, so he stops. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I say, and it's true now. The pain has morphed to a feeling of delicious fullness, and I want him to move inside me, to press up against the sensitive spot above my opening as he does.

We move together, moaning softly. I'm running my hands through his air, gripping his shoulders aggressively, encouraging him on. He's pressing into me, making luscious sounds and breathing over my earlobe. I thought I couldn't possibly be more turned on than I was earlier; I was wrong.

He figures out how to hit the spot I like while he moves right away. And I realize he's been concentrating on my pleasure the whole time. I pulse against him almost uncontrollably, forcing the feeling to heighten and heighten until I'm over the edge. I moan, and loudly. The first moan loud enough for someone outside of this room to hear. My orgasm is long and intense; I grip him tightly while it overtakes my body. When I look at his face, I can't miss the small, proud smile.

And then, he's moving faster, breathing heavy, and looks down at me. I give him a devilish smile and grab his face with my hands. "Go ahead," I whisper.

I feel him shudder and release inside of me. Then he falls on top of me, nuzzling into the crook of my shoulder, breathing heavily.

I wrap my legs and arms around him, kissing his neck and stroking his hair. I'm so thankful for all of this pleasure during this nightmarish time of my life. I can't help but shower him in kisses and caresses.

This is probably too much, I think about all the affection I'm showing him and how it will surely lead to hurt. But we deserve it. Just tonight, we both deserve to feel everything that's good.

"Hey, Catnip,"

My mind is snapped back to reality at the sound of his voice. I smile. "Hey, Gale."

"Ready?" His handsome face returns my smile.

"You know it." And we head out.