Title: Six Feet, Between

Characters: Katniss, Peeta

Pairing: Katniss/Peeta

There was a gap between she and Peeta, Katniss decided. Something like six feet of space in the literal sense, at least.

He was resting, eyes closed and head propped on one of Finnick's woven baskets. All of his capable limbs relaxed but not sprawled. It was a strange distinction for her to notice, but it registered all the same.

Peace never lasted in the Games, though. The dull blond mess of his hair caught the breeze and in a blur his hand darted toward a weapon. Katniss felt her hands clench as he tore himself up from the sand in a wary state of half-wakefulness.

When his bright eyes flickered to hers in question, she couldn't find it in herself to smile or reassure him. Instead she watched, mute with a guilt she wasn't sure how to feel, as he realized paranoia had ripped him from whatever bit of sleep he had managed.

He looked half-mad with anxiety. Such was the prize of a Victor, Katniss thought angrily. She knew Peeta was only embarrassed of his new-found edginess. But she was angry for him, nonetheless.

Distracted by the familiar haze of resentment for the Capital as it built in her mind, Katniss simply nodded to whatever Peeta mumbled as he resettled himself beside her. She wasn't sure how long it was until his exhaustion won out and he succumbed again to sleep.

Soon enough her eyes had strayed back to him. His broad body shifted minimally as he breathed. A subtle tension simmered in his strong shoulders and his face refused to relax from a grimace. It slowly dawned on Katniss just what was drawing her eye back to Peeta.

He was distant.A lot of the unassuming softness that had characterized him was gone now. It had slipped away sometime between the two Reapings. Something in her chest panged at the thought of the boy-with-the-bread cooling into someone else. Someone more like herself.

Katniss jerked her eyes away to scrutinize the slow inching of the tide instead.