Fuck.

Nothing right now could make this discomfort subside. Every breath, twitch, and push felt like the worst. This was the last thing Katniss wanted in her life. More roadblocks to her route to success.

A freak accident at the swimming pool while chasing the two devils, also known as her babysitting charges, landed Katniss in the hospital with a torn ACL. After a few x-rays and MRIs, surgery was the only option. Two days after the invasive procedure, Katniss was home, but only limited to the couch and the bathroom. Thankfully, her apartment complex had elevators, and her best friend, Finnick, lived across the hall. Whenever he could, he'd check up on her, keep her company, and drive her to the doctor. A major downside to moving across the country - having no one around to help in her time of need.

Five weeks after that blasted Saturday felt like an eternity. Nothing was easy. She couldn't go out as she pleased, unless the doctor needed her to. The crutches were itchy under her arms and so irritating; it always a burden to get from point A to point B. Looking down at the cumbersome brace that wrapped around her leg - a little too tightly - Katniss cursed at it. Everyday.

She was told to limit her activity, but of course, being Miss "Get-Up-And-Go", Katniss wouldn't wait for anyone or anything. Things had to get done. She looked online for all of the homemade remedies, finding ways to assist her knee recover, and sleeping enough before the pain made it unbearable. Secret journeys downstairs to the gym to work on the stationary bike, with Finn as her bodyguard. But even with her enthusiasm, there were a huge drawback. The swelling returned. So, as a result (or punishment in her mind), the doctor sent one of his crew to oversee her exercises. This whippersnapper of a man, Dr. Mellark, who always had a smile on his face whenever he arrived. Probably was around her age, 24, but what young professional really knew what he was doing at this season of life?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"It hurts! Son of a bitch! Make it stop. Hey! Get. Off!"

Katniss yelled, wanting to pull her leg away. More pain shot up through her body, making her so mad, she wanted to quit. Lying on her side, she snapped her eyes shut, leaned on her shoulder, and biting the knuckle of her pointer finger.

"Hey, hey. Shhh," the physical therapist attempted to soothe Katniss, gingerly holding onto her leg, as they worked on a straight leg lift. "If you scream, you'll make it worse. I know that much is true and you'll ruin my eardrum. Just relax."

Katniss opened her eyes to sharply glare at the PT. If her eyes could become laser beams and destroy, this guy would be a pile of ashes on the living room floor. His sweet and calm demeanor was the opposite of her fiery personality. Day three of these in-house visits, and Katniss was already tired of the routine. She wanted less words and more action.

"Maybe that was the plan. If you keep talking to me," she threatened. "I'll make your life a living hell."

The young doctor chuckled incredulously, "Alright."

Feeling like a bull ready to rage, she spat out, "Peeta, if you don't give me what I want, I'll fire you." It was the first time she uttered his name. She used so much force to push out the "P", it startled the alleged offender, who had never heard his patient call him by his first name. Or anything. Just "you" and "Stop!"

"Ok, Katniss," he said, moving her leg back on the cushion. He took a breath, raked his hand across the golden bangs of his, before continuing. "I know this is the third day. You're frustrated, downright pissed off. I get it, but we need to press on. After this next set of reps, I'll give you some medicine to make you feel better. Ok?"

Grinding on her teeth, Katniss reiterated her demands.

"I want the swelling to go down."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have tried to do too much when you obviously weren't ready," Peeta corrected. Clearing his throat, he continued: "This definitely sets you back three weeks. But just let me help you out. I want you to get better."

As Peeta chastised her, Katniss bit her lip; she knew she was out of line. As much as she wanted take all of her anger out on him, it wouldn't resolve anything. She was injured, five weeks removed from a major surgery, make things more difficult, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"I'm sorry," she grumbled. "I'm so mad at myself. I shouldn't have gotten injured. This wasn't supposed to happen. I'm supposed to work my butt off at this babysitting job, and save up to start my acting career."

Peeta lifted his eyes to meet hers, which were a magnificent shade of silver. "Oh? Acting where?"

Katniss painfully sighed, "TV. I had a few auditions lined up, but I had to cancel all of them. No one wants a limping brunette on their camera."

"You don't know that," Peeta commented. "You'll come back stronger. You're giving me a tough-as-nails, stubborn spirit. I believe in you."

"Can you pass me my water bottle?"

Peeta nodded at the request, allowing Katniss to continue with her break. After three huge gulps, with the two pills she was given, she thought of what her goals. Things could still happen for her. She was not going to let her present circumstances determine her fate.

"Let's do it."

"Atta girl," Peeta rejoiced. His smile widened as he stood behind the couch arm, and prepared to assist Katniss.

Two more reps. Each lift was more painful than the previous one. But that couldn't stop Katniss Everdeen. Heavy breathing, grunting, more curses, getting more positive feedback from Peeta. This wouldn't defeat her.

"Whew, there ya go! Good girl."

Gently lifting the injured leg, Peeta checked for atrophy. Nothing out of the ordinary. After placing Katniss' leg back on the couch, he reached over to write down some notes on her report. She observed him take time to mark everything down.

"You're putting down all bad things, aren't you?"

Peeta poked out his lip, "No. Not necessarily. I think you're making progress."

"Thanks," she replied, grasping the ends of her messy braid. The one she hadn't touched up in two days. Katniss was beginning to fall into a rut and until now, no one was pushing her to get out of it. Except with this Peeta Mellark.

"I'll double check with Dr. Heavensbee, but if we keep this regimen going, working together three days a week, you should be able to lose the crutches in two weeks. Does that sound like a plan?"

Katniss nodded without looking at Peeta, "Yes."

Peeta smirked. "Ok, great. You'll be getting on stage, doing your thing in no time. Hopefully I'll be able to see you."

"Thanks…Peeta."

"No problem, this is my job! Hey, do you need anything before I go?"

"Could you make me a sandwich? I've worked up an appetite. My friend is at work…so…"

"Absolutely. Sure thing," Peeta answered. When he stood, Katniss followed his firm stature with her eyes. It was the first she really noticed him, without turning red with anger. Toned arms and legs. Broad shoulders that were unfortunately covered by a grey hoodie. Gentle hands. Not to mention his black gym pants flattered him immensely.

"Katniss?"

"What? Yes." She quickly shook her head. Feeling her face burn with embarrassment, hoping Peeta didn't catch her ogling over him. Standing in front of her, head tilted, somewhat amused.

"Are you okay? You looked lost."

"No, I was just…observing. It's been a while since I've been able to roam freely in my own apartment."

"Oh," he replied with a sweet smile, willing to believe her explanation. "Well…what do you want me to make?"

"Whatever you can find in the fridge," she slowly pushed herself up so she could sit up straight against the couch. "And if you see anything you like, feel free to eat."

"Thanks, Katniss. I appreciate it!"

Katniss's jaw dropped as she witnessed the roundest ass in California, jutting from the edge of that blasted door. Before giving herself away, she quickly faced forward and sent a text to Finnick as Peeta conjured up her lunch.

Oh my God, Finn, I think I'm crushing on my PT…must be the drugs.

An immediate response from Finn.

Ha! I knew you would. First time we met him. Ruggedly handsome, blonde, muscles, bright smile. He looks like your type.

Katniss rolled her eyes. Was she that obvious?

"Here ya go."

Promptly stuffing her phone away, Katniss realized Peeta had offered a plate of a sandwich, chips, and a pickle.

"Wow. Not too shabby," Katniss complimented at the multi-layered creation, trying not to sing his praises. Taking a bite, she nearly choked. "Oh my God, this is fabulous! You were able to make this with the crap here?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Peeta answered, "Ehh, I have a thing for bread and I like being creative. Cooking and baking is my way of relaxing. Don't mind sharing with others."

"Way to downplay your talents," Katniss remarked. "Maybe you should make me lunch every time you come over."

Peeta sat down in the chair across from Katniss. "Maybe I will, if you treat me nicely every time I come over."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Peeta replied. "None of our patients are this stubborn. You must really want to get out of this brace."

Katniss . "Absolutely. I hate feeling helpless. I want to do things on my own."

"Ahh."

"Just want to get this over with and move on."

Peeta acknowledged her wish. "I know what you mean. But…you know you'll still have to come in for appointments after the brace is off, right? We need to make sure your knee continues to strengthen."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Fuck."

Laughing at her exasperation, Peeta added, "Yup. Fuck is right. But you'll get through it. I'll tell you a secret, if that's alright."

"Sure."

"I like working with you. It would be nice to keep seeing you. Even after you get transferred to another PT… At least you're honest with your recovery and that challenges me."

"Really?"

"Really," he emphasized, leaning forward with bright eyes. "I think you'd want me more than Haymitch. He's cutthroat. Award-winning PT. But with the tantrum you threw, he'd probably let you starve until your friend got back," Peeta took another bite of his lunch. "Just saying."

Katniss pressed her lips together. Maybe Finnick was right. Peeta was someone she could hang out with, and not afraid to answer back with quips.

"Oh no, I gotta get back," Peeta stated. He gestured for Katniss to hand him back her empty plate, and she did. Cleaning up after himself, putting the dishes in the washer. She couldn't deny; Peeta was a very impressive person.

"Alrighty. Good work today, Katniss. If you need anything, here's my card. Again," he hinted. "I know you've thrown them out."

Katniss' face fell. "What? How would you know that?"

"When I used the facilities and discarded my paper towel, I saw them in the trash can. I can tell when someone doesn't care for me. But seriously. The office is twenty minutes away, and my house is ten. So if your friend, Finnick, isn't around, just shoot me a text. I'll gladly stop by to help."

"Umm, yeah. He's just my friend."

Peeta snuck his hands into his coat pockets, rocking on his toes. "I gathered. And the offer still stands."

She replied, clearly taken aback from his cordial invitation. "That's…very kind of you."

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow," he winked, opening the door.

Katniss felt the corners of her mouth rise, before making eye contact with Peeta. Showing off a rare smile, she replied, "See you tomorrow."