I wake the next morning with the same delicious ache between my thighs. I stretch my arms and legs, expecting to hit Peeta's sleeping form, but my limbs touch nothing but cold sheets. I frown and sit up, swinging myself off of the bed and padding my way into the living room to look for him.

The living room is empty but the kitchen light is on and I can smell blueberries and maple syrup. I round the corner and enter the kitchen, only to be disappointed when I see that it is empty. My mood lifts a little when I see the stack of pancakes waiting for me on the counter. Beside the plate sits the yellow legal pad from the night before. The page with our "rules" is ripped out and secured to the side of my refrigerator, but on the fresh sheet underneath is a note, written in Peeta's familiar scrawl.

"Had to go home and change before I went into the restaurant. Stop by when you get a chance, I'll be there most of the day."

I smile inwardly as I smother my pancakes with butter and syrup and devour them standing right there at the kitchen counter. As I chew, I think about the fact that only twenty four hours ago, I was miserable.

The thought of something more with Peeta had terrified me from the beginning. But after losing him, I feel like I've woken up from a long hibernation - my long buried urge for meaningful companionship was struggling towards the surface, like a flower bud sprouting through thick topsoil. In that moment, my normally reasonable brain gives over to my long dormant impulsive side and I mentally reach for the MiracleGro.

There's a lot that Peeta and I will have to overcome. But I decide, right then and there, that I'm in it for the long haul.

A quick shower and change later, I'm heading out of the door. As I'm walking, I realize that I haven't heard from my sister or friends since I left the club two nights ago. Even if they had tried to get in contact with me I wouldn't have responded; Peeta and I have been content in our own little bubble. I pull out and swipe, quickly finding Gale's name listed under my favorites. It rings once and then goes to voicemail. That idiot is probably still hung over from two nights ago. I realize that I'm only a few blocks from his apartment, so I decide to swing by and see if he needs anything.

I don't bother pressing the call button; I just punch the code into the lobby door and head to the elevator, pulling out my key along the way. I push the button for Gale's floor and lazily flip through my phone as I wait for the elevator.

Once I'm in front of his door, I fit the key into the lock and push. It doesn't budge, so I try the deadbolt, even though Gale never uses it, even when he goes out. I frown as I realize that it is indeed locked. Weird.

"Gale! Have you been in bed since you left the club? I know you can't handle your liquor, but damn!" I shout towards his closed bedroom door, dropping my jacket and bag on his dining room table and making my way into the kitchen. I open up the fridge – he has to have a bottle of Gatorade or something in here.

A few thumps and a muffled "Shit!" come from behind the bedroom door before Gale emerges and quickly shuts the door behind him, his dark hair mussed and a pair of pajama pants hanging low on his hips.

"Catnip, what the fuck are you doing here?" Gale asks, breathless. His cheeks are rosy, like he had just finished a run.

"I wanted to make sure you were still alive. After all the crap that went down the other night, you didn't even call. And you are the nosiest asshole I've ever met so I figured you were sick or dead or something."

"No, I, uh… I've just been busy," he stammers.

"Oh yea, you look like you've been super busy." I roll my eyes.

"Look, this isn't the best time. Can I give you a call later?" He asks.

"What do you mean it isn't the best..." I trail off as the realization hits me. My voice drops to an exaggerated whisper. "Gale, do you have a girl in there? Oh my God! Who is it?"

Gale flushes, his skin staining bright red from his hairline all the way down to his chest. "No one, Katniss. Just go, I'll call you later."

"Who is it?" I demand again.

"Jesus Christ, brainless!" Johanna pops her head out from behind the bedroom door at that moment, causing both Gale and I to jump. "Can you please just shut up and leave? I am trying to get laid here!"

I look at Gale, my eyes all but popping out of my head. "No fucking way."

Gale just stares at the ceiling, shifting from foot to foot, looking like he would give anything to have the earth open up and swallow him whole. Johanna clears her throat loudly and looks pointedly at the door.

I snort as I make my way out. "Oh, this conversation is so not over, you two."

I manage to make it into the elevator before I burst out laughing, pulling out my phone and scrolling down to Prim's name. She, thankfully, answers after only two rings.

"Primrose Everdeen. You will never guess what I just saw."

"All of Peeta?" She guesses.

"What? No! Well, I mean, yes. But that's not the point."

"Wait! I was just kidding! You really did?" she squeals.

"Yes, but I have something more pressing to address before we get to that. What happened after I left the club on Friday night?" I ask her.

"I tried to follow you, but when we saw Peeta leave his tramp on the dance floor to go after you, I figured it would be best to leave you guys alone. About a half an hour later, Rory came and picked me up. Jo and Gale didn't want to leave, so they just said they would call a cab. Why?"

"Oh, just because it seems like Gale and Johanna shared a cab. And a bed," I inform her.

"So? We were all really drunk. We've all slept in the same bed at some point or another." Prim's voice is confused and I roll my eyes. She is the smartest person I've ever met but she can be so dense sometimes.

"No, Prim. They shared a bed all night, then all day yesterday, and apparently all morning today," I tell her, slowly. She gasps.

"No!"

"Yes. They are totally boning." I laugh.

"Speaking of boning…" Prim trails off, ever my discreet baby sister.

"I am so not going there with you, Primrose."

"Oh my god, Katniss, after all of the shit I just watched you go through, you better give me something!" she squeals.

I think about my baby sister barging in and kicking me in my ass. I hated her at the time, but I can't deny that she is exactly what I needed. I decide to throw her a bone, no pun intended.

"Fine. We had incredibly hot hate sex, followed by incredibly sweet make-up sex and I can barely walk today. Is that what you want to hear?" I am trying to sound stern but it's just not working.

"Tell me more! I need details!" Prim pushes, excitedly. She's so bubbly and sweet, even when she is being ridiculously nosy.

"You are not going to get details, little sister. Just know that the man is skilled," I laugh into the phone. "I have to go, I'll call you later." I hang up before she can protest.

I make my way through the narrow streets, winding my way through the city until I come to Sage.

I stop and marvel for a minute at the building. It's a decently sized brick building with an oversized bay window that has lush, multicolored drapes framing the view of the diners inside. The name of the restaurant is painted across the window in a simplistic, zen looking font, the color a light green. It's so simple but so perfect, intriguing enough to draw your eye. It perfectly complements the décor that I know is inside. Peeta has mixed and matched color in a way that no one I know can do; he uses them to invoke emotions and it leaves me in awe.

I make my way across the cobblestone sidewalk and up the steps, pushing open the door and stepping into Peeta's oasis. I wave to Delly and she points down the hall towards Peeta's office. I smile at her as I pass. She returns it sincerely and I'm unsure whether or not she knows what has been going on recently with Peeta and me.

I open the door to the office quietly, without knocking, and I'm greeted with the sight of Peeta hunched over his desk, his face screwed up in concentration. He has a stack of ledgers spread in front of him and is furiously punching away at a calculator. I clear my throat and he jumps slightly.

His face breaks out into an infectious grin when his eyes meet mine and I feel my face moving of its own accord into a smile of my own. He pushes back from his desk and gestures for me to come closer. When I'm within his arms' reach, he pulls me into his lap and kisses me before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. His breath gives me the shivers and I can't help but twine my arms around his neck, catching my hands in his thick, golden hair.

"Hey, you got my note," he says, his voice muffled in my skin, the heat of his breath radiating across my skin and making me tingle.

Before I can stop myself, I pull his head back by the hair until his lips are tilted perfectly and I can lean down and seal my own over them. His mouth parts voluntarily and he hungrily drinks me in, using his tongue and teeth to take my breath away.

Eventually, Peeta pushes me back slightly and breaks the kiss, sucking in mouthfuls of air. I follow suit, flooding my lungs with oxygen in an attempt to calm my pounding heart.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asks, a playful glint in his eye. He wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles into my chest.

I start to answer him, but I jump as I feel his phone vibrate against my butt.

"Are you going to get that?"

"Mmm no," he answers, nuzzling further into my sweater. The phone continues buzzing against my backside.

"Oh my god, Peeta, that's so annoying. Just answer it." I jump up from his lap. He grudgingly fishes the cell out of his pocket and swipes the screen, his eyes darkening when he sees who the caller is. He mumbles a greeting into the mouthpiece.

His tone is hushed and he limits his sentences to one word answers delivered in a monotone. My stomach drops when I deduce who is on the line.

"I told you, it didn't work out with her, Mother. I'm seeing someone else," Peeta growls into the phone. "No… I – I just - okay." He finally concedes, letting out a long sigh. "I'll ask her."

He listens for a few more seconds then mumbles a goodbye before setting the phone on the desk. He looks at me sheepishly through his eyelashes.

"What are you supposed to be asking me?"

"Well…" he starts and trails off, shifting in his chair.

"Oh, spit it out, Mellark." I plop myself on the desk in front of him, pushing his papers and phone out of the way and swinging my legs so that the rest on either side of his lap. He unconsciously reaches up and starts rubbing my thighs.

"That was my mom. She wants you to come for dinner tonight."

"That's it? Of course I'll come, no problem," I tell him, dropping off the desk to straddle him fully. His arms snake around my waist and he starts rubbing my lower back in small, absentminded circles.

"I don't think you understand, Katniss. It's not that easy. My mother is pissed that I'm not dating Glimmer. She is…not going to be nice to you."

"Will it make your life easier if I go?"

"Hopefully it will get her off of my back for a while," he snorts.

"Then I'll go." I clamp my hand over his mouth as he starts to protest. "Be quiet. I'm going."

I tug my charcoal pencil skirt down and shift in my conservative black pumps as I stare up at the posh building located on South Broad Street in Rittenhouse Square. It's one of the most beautiful – and wealthy – neighborhoods in the city. Peeta's parents own a condo in one of the older looking buildings, its cream-colored façade decorated with elaborate gold molding. A doorman stands at attention by the glass and chrome doorway, flanked on either side by lush, green shrubbery.

"A doorman? Are you sure you want to take me in there? You can find some classy broad who doesn't live in Fishtown and just tell your parents that she's me. They'll never know – we can just call her up whenever you have to come here," I babble nervously to Peeta.

At the restaurant I had been so certain that tonight would be no big deal. But I had also been overlooking the fact that Peeta's father is a senator. A very wealthy senator. And I was just a poor kid from Bucks County.

"It's going to be fine. You look great, you are great, and they are going to love you." Peeta grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the door. "My dad will, at least."

I let him tug me through the lobby and our heels click on the marble floor. We halt in front of an elevator with dark wood doors tucked discreetly in the corner and Peeta pushes the call button. We step inside and I can feel my heart hammer in my throat as we ascend. After a too-short ride, the doors slide open on the top floor.

"Ready?" Peeta looks at me nervously. I have to swallow a few times before I answer him.

"Let's do this."

Peeta once again twines his fingers in mine and strides through the front door through the foyer and into a high-ceilinged living room, furnished with sleek, modern furniture. The fireplace crackles warmly in the corner, but everything else about the room is cold and detached. Black leather and sharp angles seemed to be the common motif.

"Peeta, is that you? You're late," a sharp, high-pitched voice trilled down the hallway across the room. A petite, steely blonde strides into the room and looks at Peeta with cold eyes. She doesn't even acknowledge me.

Peeta steps forward and kisses her briefly on each cheek. She looks flawless in her form-fitting black dress, from her diamond drop earrings down to her Louboutin stilettos. I can see his spine stiffen when she reaches up and places her hands on his biceps, deliberately keeping him from getting too close to her. He steps back and wraps his arm around me, pulling me in close.

"Mom, this is Katniss. My girlfriend," He looks at me hopefully when he says the word "girlfriend" and I wink back at him.

"I'll allow it," I mouth to him silently.

Mrs. Mellark clears her throat softly, pulling our attention back to her.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mellark. Thank you for having me," I say, stepping forward and offering my hand. She lets it hang in the empty space between us while her piercing blue eyes size me up, travelling from my bargain sale Jimmy Choo pumps (a thrift shop steal), up to my carefully braided hair. She turns on her heel and clicks down the hallway, calling behind her, "Dinner is almost ready. Come, your father and brothers are already here."

We follow behind her, keeping our distance. I'm beginning to realize why Peeta was so hesitant to bring me here. I drag my feet as we round the corner and the hall opens up into a huge lounge area. The far wall is comprised completely of floor to ceiling windows overlooking Rittenhouse Square. The opposite wall has shelf upon shelf filled with antique looking books complimenting the overstuffed furniture arranged around a billiards table, and a beautiful marble wet bar takes up an entire corner. A shorter, stockier man with thinning blond hair - a darker, sandier shade that matches Peeta's perfectly – is leaning against the bar, one hand clutched around a highball glass filled with amber liquid and the other tousling the hair of what I assume is one of Peeta's brothers.

The two men turn as we enter the room and the older man's face breaks into a delighted grin. He leaves his glass on the bar and is across the room in a few strides, wrapping Peeta in a bone-crushing hug.

"Son! I'm so glad you're here!" Senator Mellark booms in a deep voice that I didn't expect to come from him. His tone is jovial and affectionate and he holds Peeta for several moments, obviously unwilling to let go.

Peeta's grin is wide as he embraces his dad. "It's good to see you, old man."

The two men finally break apart and we make our way over to the bar. Senator Mellark reaches for me and scoops me up in my own warm hug once we reach our destination.

"You must be Katniss. I can see how happy you make my son!" he gushes, and I can see why so many people have voted for him.

"It's so nice to meet you, Senator," I start.

"Oh, please. Call me Hansen. This my oldest son, Bri," he gestures to the lankier man sipping a Heineken, his bright blonde hair matching Mrs. Mellark's, "And Rusk is around here somewhere…"

At the sound of his name, Peeta's middle brother pops his sandy blonde head up from behind the bar, a bottle of rum grasped in his hand.

"Well, hello, gorgeous. What are you doing hanging out with my brother?" he exclaims, his wide grin showing off two rows of sparkling, perfect teeth.

I chuckle at his boisterous demeanor and extend my hand first to Bri, then to Rusk.

"It's nice to meet all of the Mellark men. Peeta has told me so much about you." I chuckle, unable to contain my glee at being surrounded by equally gorgeous, hilarious versions of Peeta.

Before I know it, I'm sipping on a glass of the best cabernet that I have ever tasted and Peeta is nursing a scotch and water with his father. We are all chatting amicably.

"Ahem." Mrs. Mellark's steely voice cuts through all of the comfortable conversation. "Dinner is on the table."

We make our way into the dining room. The table is set elaborately and elegantly. Mrs. Mellark positions herself at the head of the table and waits for us all to sit before settling into her own plush chair. Without cue, an older lady wearing all black wheels in a cart covered with plates. She begins placing the plates in front of us, serving Mrs. Mellark first. I quirk my eyebrow at Peeta and he just shrugs, his neck flushing pink.

The Mellark boys quickly pick up their forks and slip into an easy banter as we enjoy our salads. They engage me just as easily and I let myself fall into sync with them as if I have known them all for years.

I'm in the middle of ribbing Rusk about his floppy, seemingly un-Mellark haircut when the main course is brought in.

"Peeta, I had Sae prepare your favorite. Petite filet with red potatoes and asparagus," cuts in Mrs. Mellark.

"I'm well aware of what my favorite meal is, Mother," Peeta half-mutters.

Her eyes cut quickly up to his face and he stiffens as she glares at him.

"Peeta, I will not have this from you tonight."

Hansen clears his throat and starts to change the subject but his wife holds up her hand and the words catch in his throat. Bri and Rusk just stare at their plates, pushing their food around. My eyes dart from Peeta to Mrs. Mellark.

I see the myriad of emotions flit across Peeta's features in a split second, starting with fear and ending with defiance.

"You won't have what, Mother?" He quirks his head to the side, as if he is genuinely curious.

"Your backtalk and your ungrateful attitude," says Mrs. Mellark through gritted teeth.

"Ungrateful? When have I ever been ungrateful?" Peeta shakes his head in disbelief.

"All of the effort I have put into making life better for you, and you just turn your head. I give you the finest things in life and you pass them up in favor of trash." As the words leave her mouth, Mrs. Mellark's gaze rests on me, her mouth turning up in a sneer. My spine goes rigid and my hand fists around my napkin. My heart is thumping rapidly as I try to sort through what is going on. I don't know if I should pretend like I don't know what she's talking about or spit in her face. Luckily, Peeta's father clears his throat before I can make a decision.

"Maybe you and Peeta should continue this conversation in private," he says nonchalantly, as if he is discussing last night's Phillies game.

Mrs. Mellark shoves her chair back and stalks through the swinging doors to the left of the table. Peeta shoots his father a glare before following behind her, stopping to plant a kiss on the top of my head.

Hansen starts half-heartedly telling a story about some mishap at a political event, but we can all hear the conversation taking place in the next room.

"We have given you everything, Peeta! Everything! Anything you have ever asked for – cars, vacations, the best education money could provide! We helped you with your little restaurant project, even though we disapprove! I ask you for one thing in return and how do you repay me? Do you know what Glimmer's family could do for your father? Not to mention that you would be with someone that can only bring you up the social ladder. You can't take that girl out in public!" she shrieks.

No one acknowledges the fact that "that girl" is sitting at the dining room table, but I didn't expect them to. I decide that I am two seconds from excusing myself and walking across the entire city to get home when Peeta stalks through the kitchen door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mrs. Mellark stomps through the doorway behind him.

Peeta doesn't say a word, he just pulls me out of my chair and practically drags me out of the room. A quick glance behind me reveals a fuming Mrs. Mellark, an embarrassed looking Senator Mellark, and the two remaining sons staring at their place settings.

A half an hour later, we're sitting on Peeta's couch. I'm clutching a glass of wine and he has a glass with two fingers of whiskey on the table in front of him, neat. He leans over, his head in his hands.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss. I don't know why I brought you there in the first place," he mumbles.

I put my wine onto the coffee table and scoot across the couch. I have the sudden urge to be as close to him as possible. I want to crawl under his skin, feel his chest rise with every breath. I push him back and swing my leg over him, settling myself in his lap and crushing my front to his. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe in, his scent heady and intoxicating.

"Stop it. I don't care about her. I care about you. I want you, so much."

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. His chin nudges my face up and his lips catch mine, searing my lips. It only takes a second for me to realize that he is crying, hot tears dripping slowly down his flushed cheeks. Still, I don't break my lips from his. I move in sync because I know that's what he needs.

We stay this way for a while, music playing softly in the background, our lips moving languidly. We are in no rush.

I hear the notes of one of my favorite songs start to drift around us and as Peeta holds me, I dip my lips to his ear and start to sing.

"Well, I won't give up on us

God knows I'm tough enough

We've got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it"

Peeta looks up at me as I finish the song, his eyes tearing up again. A thousand emotions flit across his face – as long as I've known him, he's never been good at hiding his feelings. Every one that I see in that moment shows me how he really feels about me.

"Katniss, I love you."