Here's a new one! It is NOT a part 2 to the last story; this one is on it's own. I wrote this as an alternative to Katniss and Peeta's first kiss back in 12 after the war. So, beware of fluff and tingly sensations. UGH, I just love them so much. First kisses are a big deal to me with these two. Let me know what you think, and what you would like to see in the future!

"Can you lie next to her
And give her your heart, your heart
As well as your body
And can you lie next to her
And confess your love, your love
As well as your folly
And can you kneel before the king
And say I'm clean, I'm clean"

"Peeta, it's alright, this isn't real- Listen to me! Not real Peeta!"

Something triggered Peeta, and I'm unsure of what it was. We were both in my kitchen attempting to clean up a large bag of flour Buttercup had jumped on, consequently knocking it over and covering the whole room with the white powder.

Me and Peeta were cleaning together, I was scolding Buttercup, Peeta was making jokes that I laughed at. For once in my damn life I didn't feel like I was nothing, I felt the remains of a normal life slowly creeping back to me and to us.

We had been back in District 12 for almost a year. The snowfall of winter had covered the remaining ashes in town and the bare ground where pieces of forest that has yet to grow back after the bombing used to be. With the cold came lighting fireplaces, warm blankets, and Peeta making warm cheese buns at my house more and more.

About a month ago Peeta started to stay over. I had an especially tough nightmare and woke up on my couch screaming, crying, and by the time I was fully awake I couldn't breathe. It was Prim again, as always. Peeta was still in my house thankfully and he heard. I just remember reaching for him, letting him lay next to me with his arms holding me close, and holding onto his loose t-shirt like I was going to die if I let go.

He's held me the same every night since that one. We've developed a routine; he holds my hand through my nightmares and I hold his through the episodes.

This is the first episode I've witnessed in a long time. He usually keeps them private; he lies to me that he needs to clean his house or something else that I don't believe for a second. I asked him once, and he said he was afraid of hurting me. I understood, so I let him deal with them in his own time while letting Haymitch know that he's having them. I still don't want anything to happen to Peeta, and I want someone to watch over him even if it's not me.

I focus back on the present, kneeling next to Peeta on the floor. He just threw a dish across the kitchen; shattering it against the far wall and making Buttercup run away. I see in his eyes that he is fighting for his sanity and trying to stop himself. His hands are clenched into fists and he's yelling at me, but half stumbling around the room and trying to find a way out. He throws another plate, in my direction this time, and I duck before it hits me.

He backs up against the wall and slides himself down, hiding his face in his hands and breathing heavily. He shouts,

"GET AWAY FROM ME! GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

I ignore him and kneel next to him, shouting all the usual things and trying to hold his hand.

"You're a painter, you're a baker… you never take sugar in your tea…!"

He slams his fist on the ground and clenches his eyes shut.

"You're favorite color is orange like the sunset!"

I keep doing this until his breathing starts to calm and his hands slowly relax. I inch closer and closer, and when he stops shouting I try to brush some of his blonde hair out of his eyes. I whisper to him, "Please Peeta, this isn't real."

I wait for him to respond, his eyes still shut. I trace the lines of his face with my eyes, focusing on his eyelashes and each of his freckles before moving on. I manage to take one of his hands in mine and hold on tight, leaning against his shoulder and resting my head in the crook of his neck.

I wait.

"Katniss?"

My name escapes his lips sounding dry and strangled. I don't move, and I answer, "Peeta?"

A few more moments pass until I feel his grip loosen around my hand and he pulls it out of my grasp. I look up at him and his eyes meet mine. I see the worry and anxiety swimming in the blue of his eyes, almost waiting for bad news.

"Did I hurt you?"

I shake my head no. He looks around the kitchen, seeing the broken plates and pushed over furniture. His gaze finds its way to me, and he doesn't break eye contact when he reaches forward to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.

"I need to go."

"No, Peeta…"

He stands up very fast, catching himself on the edge of the counter. I follow and step in front of him, my hands on his chest.

"Don't do this, don't leave after that."

"This is exactly why I need to leave, Katniss!"

I feel my heart pound in my chest and the familiar choking sensation in my throat. I'm filled with anxiety at the thought of him leaving right now, of him leaving me to clean up the broken pieces of himself in an empty and silent house.

"I need you, Peeta, plea…"

"No, Katniss. I can't."

Our eyes lock, and I feel his searching mine for something.

"No, Peeta, it wasn't even bad. You didn't touch me, I swear!"

"And what if I did! What if I hurt you? What if I…"

He pauses and I see his adams apple bob up and down. His voice cracks when he answers me.

"What if I killed you!?"

I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that I trust him and none of those things matter to me, but he is too quick.

"I mean, what if!? Katniss, I would never forgive myself! I would rather jump off the nearest cliff than hurt you! I need to go, you would be better off without me and without all this damn medication, without this god damn leg to take care of, and without this."

He pauses, letting the last word settle around us. This. This drama, this pain, this mess. I'm not able to find the words to tell him that I would rather have this than anything else. As long as he is involved with this, then I wouldn't have it any other way.

He leaves before I can admit it to him, or even myself that I need him to stay.

I know if I go after him that we will end up having the same argument, so I decide to leave him alone until the next day. I don't want to hurt him more than he already hurt himself.

I stand still for a long time, just thinking, until I make a move to pick up the broken pieces of the plates and straighten the table and chairs. I think of Peeta, and of what he just said to me. I hate that he hates himself. Peeta is the reason that I can keep going day to day, the reason I chose to keep going instead of wallowing in my misery- because he gives me hope in the future, even if that is just the next hour or the next day. I go over our conversation sentence by sentence.

Then it hits me, what he said, as I stand up the last chair.

I would never forgive myself!

I would rather jump off the nearest cliff than hurt you!

I need to go, you would be better off without me…

No, could he? He can't, I mean, he's not…

I feel my heart drop in my chest and I run out of the house, not bothering to shut the door or put shoes on.

He couldn't be. Peeta Mellark wouldn't kill himself. Or would he? I don't know anything anymore. I'm just focused on getting to him and making sure he's alright.

I make it to his front door, not wasting any time. I'm so panicked that I can barely think. I scream and pound on the door, feeling the last bit of my sanity slip away from me. If I don't have Peeta, I don't have anything.

"PEETA! OPEN THE DOOR! PEETA, PLEASE! DAMN IT PEETA!"

I feel the door open after what seems like forever and I see him standing there, his sleep clothes on and looking almost as panicked as I feel.

"Katniss, what…?"

I fling myself onto his chest and hold him close, sobbing so hard I'm not able to catch my breath. His arms are around me and his lips are in my hair, and I'm briefly aware that he is supporting me completely because my legs have suddenly become weak and useless.

His hands are on either side of my face and he leans closer to me, still talking in hushed tones. He tilts my head up just a bit, looking into my eyes. I feel his look through my whole body and a keep crying with the thought that he's still here to do this to me.

"Katniss, please tell me what's going on."

"I was-so scared- Peeta! I- didn't –I didn't know, I mean- you just said…"

I manage to take a breath and calm myself the smallest bit.

"You-you said that you wouldn't want to live if you hurt me, and-and that I would be better off when I told you I needed you…"

Realization spreads across his face as he pulls me further into his house and kicks the door closed. I feel his hands in my hair and his hot breath on my face as he leans his forehead on mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and take a deep breath.

"I didn't mean that, Katniss, I didn't. I didn't."

He pulls me even closer to him; I still feel my eyes welling with tears.

"I did. I meant it, Peeta. I meant what I said. I-I need you."

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then opens them again and holds my gaze like his life depends on it. He doesn't say anything, so I speak up once more.

"I just got scared that you didn't want this anymore, that you didn't want me…"

I pause, not really knowing what else to say. I don't know what Peeta is going to say, either. I just showed up sobbing at his door, telling him that I need him. I'm so full of emotion that I can't fit in being amazed at myself for expressing such sentiment.

I'm suddenly aware of how close we are, how vulnerable I just made myself, and the way that Peeta is looking at me like I'll break into a thousand pieces if he even takes a breath. My arms are still around his neck and I'm so close that I can count the smallest freckles on the bridge of his nose. I'm not even aware I speak until I hear my own voice.

"I just, I really…"

I let out a quiet noise that I can only describe as a whimper and say at the same time, "Peeta…"

I feel his lips on mine, not sure who kissed who exactly. It's gentle and sweet and I feel my heart stop as he pulls me closer to him like he never wants to let go. That's fine, because I don't want him to.

He kisses me deeper and pulls me closer, running his tongue along my bottom lip. I feel my whole body tingle and shake; I ease open my mouth and let his tongue inside. He pulls me closer still; I run one hand through his hair and then rest it on the side of his face.

His lips are firm and soft at the same time, he's kissing me like it's the most meaningful thing he'll ever do. It's tender and it sends more chills down my spine. I feel my lungs contracting, and Peeta moves his lips away from mine for only a second so we can both catch our breath. His eyes are dark and heavy and I hear both of our ragged breathing.

Without a second to spare he pulls me to him again, his lips moving with mine and allowing my tongue in his mouth this time. He begins to talk to me as we kiss, his breath hot on my lips and I can feel him smile.

"Of course I want you, Katniss."

His lips are on mine again, pulling me close, caressing me, loving me, and he pulls away just slightly to say something else.

"I want you in every sense of the word."

Our lips clash as I take in his words. I love him, that's it, and I'm stupid for taking this long to figure it out. It's my turn to whisper to him through our kissing.

"Then you can have me, Peeta."

He kisses me deeper.

"Please don't leave. Stay, stay with me." He asks.

I nod, and I hear him whisper my name when our lips are tangled again.

So I do stay.

We kiss and caress and for every second of it I can't stop thinking that he is everything to me. I can't believe that there was even a second that I wasn't sure about him.

We kiss, my breath catches in my throat, my hands are in his hair, I open my eyes and we're upstairs, I open my eyes again and he's kissing my neck and causing soft noises to escape my mouth.

I tell him I love him, and he tells me, and his soft touch is all over me as we lay down on his unmade bed.

My clothes are off and his clothes are off, and I can feel his heart beat sync with mine as we share a look and another kiss. He leans close to me and whispers once more, "I want you," and I understand part of his meaning earlier, so I respond with something he'll understand as well.

"You can have me."

song credit: white blank page by mumford and sons