A/N: GAH! I swear I'm not dead, nor giving up, or any of that stuff. I'm probably the top ten worst fanfiction writers ever, and should quit but I just can't! It's my calling!

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Ahem. Pardon my outburst. I hope you enjoy this chapter and prepare yourself for a possible long wait for the next one.

I can't believe it.

Of all the guys in town- why me?

It isn't like Madge is a bad person. No, she's sweet. She's even really pretty. She seems modest and calm, but she's no Katniss Everdeen.

I walk back to my home with my parents, who are chattering away happily. I've known about the engagement for twenty four hours, and it still hasn't even set in. Even when Effie announced it to all of Panem, it still doesn't make sense. Me? Peeta Mellark? Engaged? To someone other than Katniss Everdeen?

I shake my head. Katniss would never marry me… Besides, it's not like I have a choice. I know what the Capitol does to those who disagree- who stand out. Haymitch is not the only testimony in Panem, but his is the one that hits closest to home. He refused to let go of his girl. And as much as I love Katniss, I can't do that to her.

My mother continues to talk on, oblivious to how hurt I am. My father knows, but he also knows he can't say anything about it. We're going home to celebrate with my brothers- Skone and Weat. They, like dad, understand why I'm upset, but are determined to cheer me up. For them, it isn't catastrophic. It's one girl- and I'm moving on to one who's nicer and prettier and has a chance of actually liking me.

My dad gets it, though, because he was in the same place.

Once upon a time, he was as madly in love with a woman as I was. Her name was Laurel, and she was his neighbor. He grew up constantly trying to prove his love for her, and was about to propose, when he caught news that she'd run off with some guy from the Seam- Axel Everdeen. Axel was tall, dark, and handsome to my father's shy, blond and fair skin, but my father knew the real reason why Laurel chose Axel. When Axel would sing, the mockingjays would stop to listen to him. That wasn't the case for most, so my father knew that when he lost Laurel, he lost her forever. He was desolate, and his parents wanted him to be happy with someone else, so they arranged a marriage with him and my mother. My father was never truly happy with mother, which she knows.

I only know all of those because I often would walk down into the kitchen when my parents were fighting. One day, when I was six, I heard my mother shout that my father was just mad because Laurel would open her legs for Seam scum, and not himself. He slammed a door that night- I'd never seen him do anything in anger.

I waited a whole two days to ask him what happened, and he gently explained to me the story of Laurel. The next day, coincidentally my first day of school, he pointed Katniss out to me at school, and told me that that was Laurel's daughter. I watched Katniss- her black hair pulled into two braids and her red dress making her skin look soft. I asked my father if I was allowed to be her friend, and he laughed. "Only if she'll let you."

I remember that day went by rather quickly. It was my first day, so everything was a new experience. What made me happiest was sitting close to Katniss in classes. I wanted to talk to her, but she never talked back.

The only time she talked was when a teacher asked who knew the valley song at the end of the day. She was the only one who raised her hand. The teacher made Katniss stand in front of us and sing, and I knew exactly what my father had meant about making the mockingjays stop to listen. From that point on, I was in love.

I often recall watching her from then on, how she was silent, but happy. Her father sometimes came to pick her up from school, as did mine, but that gradually stopped as we grew older.

It was hard for me to watch and not do anything when her father died. I wanted desperately to hug her, to hold her close, but she seemed even more distant from everyone else at that point.

When she came round our neighborhood and was starving, I knew what I could do. I tossed some bread to her, immediately feeling terrible. Like I was tossing it to a starving animal. I thought I'd gotten away with it, but my mother beat me something terrible that night. She yelled for hours about 'Seam whores', and then the whole family knew my secret- that I was in love.

My brothers teased me, at first, but stopped when they realized nothing was actually going on between Katniss and I. Then, they tried to help me talk to her (with no success). Finally, they tried introducing me to other girls (even less successful than the first plan).

Skone and Weat this year had stopped bothering me about girls, with a resolute 'it's your life'. I was so pleased. Their constant harping made me feel nervous and pressured, not at all what I wanted to feel when trying to woo my dream girl. I even had a plan- I was going to bake her and Primrose, her adorable sister, some of their favorite treats (cheesebuns for the older girl and iced cookies for the younger one). I knew I would have a hard time competing with Gale Hawthorne, her best friend, who is two years older and stronger than me, but I figured I'd be okay.

But then I got picked to marry Madge Undersee, and everything changed.

Poor Madge. I feel so rotten for how I treated her. I got all choked up, but I guess it's better than the alternative.

I say goodnight to my parents with a wave of my hand, and hurry to my room. My brothers are sitting at the kitchen table, playing some kind of card game, but I rush past them. When I finally make it to the sanctity of my room, I let the tears fall. I didn't even get to tell her how I felt. And now I never would. She'd be much safer without me around. She'll probably go and marry Gale. I shake my head and force the bitter voice to shut up in my head.

Katniss won't marry anyone, because Katniss is too proud for marriage. No, not proud… More like… withdrawn. She hasn't smiled since before her father's death, and I've heard rumors about her mother's catatonic behavior- people were always curious about the Everdeen family, and Katniss's recurring trips to the Hob. However, while they were curious, no one has ever spurred into action to help the Everdeen girls.

Except me, I guess.

Then again, every time Katniss makes a sale, people are helping her out. And I know my father pays far more than he should for the squirrels- my mother's hounded him about it multiple times.

I'm about to lay face down on my bed and cry more, but Weet and Skone push into my room- Weat's first. The oldest.

"Hey, aren't you excited?" Skone asks as he joins me on my bed. He's always more outgoing than Weet, who sits on his own bed.

"Yep." I try to mask my tears, but I know it's useless. They both have the decency to pretend not to notice- Skone looking at the bedding and Weat looks down at the ground.

"I'm really tired." I suddenly announce, breaking the silence. Both Weat and Skone look up at me, and nod.

"Sure, buddy. We're gonna be heading out, though." Skone informs me. I nod and get up- saying goodbye to them both with half-hugs that we, as brothers, are so good at giving.

"Goodbye, Peeta." Weat tells me, as they leave, and I finally am able to fall onto my bed- only to find that my desire to do so has dissipated.

However, the new course of action is destructive, and not something a betrothed man should be doing. I shrug off the doubts and grab my sketch book. I keep it hidden under my bed, away from my mother's prying eyes. Flipping through the book, I see many pictures. Pictures of cakes my father has decorated, of my brothers goofing around, and of the woods- or, at least, what I can see of them.

Still, this myriad of random subjects can't compare to my most pictured inspiration- Katniss Everdeen. She fills at least half the pages I've drawn on, and not two pictures are the same. In one she's sitting in class, absentmindedly running her fingers over her braid. Another, she's walking with Primrose through the town square, her face slightly dirty but still smiling. But my favorite pictures her walking triumphantly to the bakery with her game bag in hand. I like it best because of the multitude of expressions on her beautiful face- pride over the hunt, relief that she's able to care for her family, and stoic determination that states a need for businesslike behavior.

I decide to draw her as I wish I could have her, since this might be one of the last times I'm able to sketch her beauty. I drag my charcoal pencil across the pad and find myself staying up until the sunrises. I don't care. I smile down at my work.

It's a picture of me and her, sitting carefully at a fire. She's wearing a dress (I've seen her wear a dress once. It was the day her father was announced as dead and she received the metal from the town- it was equally the most amazing and heart wrenching moment of my life) and her hair is down and flowing. I'm wearing my father's best shirt and a nice pair of pants. My hair is carefully slicked back.

We're staring into each other's eyes in this scene, and my hand is stretched out to her mouth- a toasted piece of bread between my outstretched fingers.

I watch as a teardrop falls and stains the paper, and I decide to stop being such a pansy and grow up. I slam the sketchbook shut and slide it under my bed. "I'll have to take care of that, later." I tell myself, secretly wishing I could do with it what I originally planned. I wanted to give it to Katniss as an engagement present, especially since she would have been so hard to convince.

I have to stop talking about would haves and could haves. It's doing no one any good. I stretch my body out and change into my work clothes. I have to get a few hours in before school, or else mother will have a fit.

As I slide a new shirt on, I glimpse at my scars. Usually, they don't cause me much pause, but this time, I examine them closely. I always thought it would make Katniss and I perfect for each other, since she'd realize I'm not perfect and shiny like all the other Merchants, and that her hunting scars and my baking scars would fit together perfectly.

I shake my head. I hope Madge likes scars on men. She probably doesn't. Her family will probably have some doctor sent in from the capitol to polish me up. The thought makes me shudder.

I finish clothing with the sad feeling that I will never deserve a woman- especially not the two that matter most: the girl that I'm madly in love with, and the girl that I need to marry in order to survive.

A/N: Well sorry. This has to be the shortest chapter, but hopefully, the most enlightening. Maybe. I kind of just repeat what Collins already has stated about Peeta's love for Katniss, but there's some irony and foreshadowing in there (review and point it out and win, um, an internet muffin!)

Thanks for everyone who's read/reviewed/subscribed/favorited/etc. It makes me squeal with excitement every time I get an email.

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