a/n: An unexpected part two where, a few months later, Katniss tells Gale of the boy with the bread. I tried to make it canon. Hope you like it :)

Gale's hands are the first thing I see through the greenery. I knew full well he'd be here, like he always is, but this time feels different. Guilt weighs at the back of my mind as insecurity gnaws at the front of it; I swallow thickly and my head spins when I catch his eye.

"Catnip," he smiles for maybe the third time I've ever seen him do so. It's only been a couple months since Gale and I began to hunt together, and some awkwardness is still there. Part of it is due to the fact that Gale is all parts a man and I'm still a girl, sharp angles and bones and tiny proportions. Being with Gale has awakened something in me that I'd always been ashamed to embrace, the way my cheeks grow hot when he wraps his arms around me from behind to help me tie a snare, the way I shudder with delight when his lips are near my ear. One time he reached over and brushed a lock of my dark hair from my forehead, and I forgot how to breathe.

I block my mind from further thoughts as the guilt begins to make its way forward through my complicated ensemble of thoughts. Surely he'd never feel the same way about me, especially because I've been so weak.

"Hey," I say, my voice wavering, catching at the last sound. "Catch anything?"

He looks up at me and shakes his head blankly, his steely eyes murky with confusion. He stands up and places a hand on my shoulder. "You okay?" he asks softly.

"Of course," I snap, turning away. "Of course I am."

"Katniss," his voice is so soft it almost startles me. He rarely calls me by my given name. "Katniss, talk to me."

"I gave in," I sniffle, blinking back tears that send wires of pain down my cheeks and into my nose. "I'm strong and I'm able to do things for myself, Gale! And I didn't!"

"Hey," he turns me around, gripping me firmly by the shoulders. "You know you can tell me what you're thinking."

"It was cold outside," I begin, my voice watery. "It was cold and it was raining and Prim and I, we were so hungry." I notice Gale's jaw clench, but he doesn't say a word. "So I went into town and I tried selling some of our things and no one wanted them so I -" by this time tears are dripping down my cheeks, and I can feel my skin tighten.

"Katniss," Gale's voice is chipped with sadness, "you didn't go to Cray, did you?"

"No!" I shout, swatting his hand away from my face. "No," I sob, again, "what kind of person do you think I am?"

"I wouldn't think any less of you," he says quietly, and I ignore it. "Anyway," I take a deep breath. "Anyway, I was looking in the t-trash bins at the bakery for something, anything." I hear him sigh. "And th-then Mrs. Mellark, sh-she started screaming at me."

I turn to look at him, and he nods me forward. "So I...I sat down by some trees. It was cold, it was raining so hard." I shiver. "I gave up, Gale. I could have died there, I was so weak."

"You're still here," he prods gently. "Katniss, I don't see what the problem is."

"The Mellark boy," I sniffle. "What's his name?"

"Peeta," Gale spits, a little bitterly.

"You look like you just ate something sour," I roll my sore eyes. "He saved my life, Gale."

At this he looks slightly surprised. "The baker kid? How in the hell did he manage that?"

"The baker kid," I shoot Gale a look, "burned bread for me."

He sighs. "Elaborate."

"I think he did it on purpose," my voice grows quiet. "He bakes it with his mom. And I think he saw me out there, or heard her yelling at me, because all of a sudden he's got these black loaves of bread and he's tossing them to me in the pouring rain. They were still warm. He had a mark on his face."

Gale kicks at a pebble on the ground, his arms crossed, expression unreadable. "Do you hate him or something?" I ask, annoyed.

"No," Gale's eyes flicker up at me.

"Then why are you acting like that?" There's an unproductive pause when I nervously ask, "Should I have not taken it?"

"It's pretty damn good that you did, Katniss," Gale starts to walk deeper into the trees. "But he took a beating for you. He fed you. Now you owe him." He swallows so thickly I can hear it, and then averts my gaze again. I have to repeat his name a few more times before he whispers, "I think he likes you."

I feel an ice-cold rush make its way through my body. "Why would - why would that matter?" I choke out.

"No reason," Gale's voice is suddenly louder and more assured. "We came here to hunt, didn't we?"

"Yeah," I breathe shakily. "Yeah, we did."