A/N This is a submission to Prompts in Panem (promptsinpanem on tumblr) for the visual prompt of a woman sitting naked in a window. Check out my tumblr (absnow) for other submissions from this week's challenge. Lyrics from Dave Matthews Band, "Crash Into Me." This is loosely, LOOSELY based on the film Clerks.

Oh I watch you there, in the window, and I stare at you - you wear nothing

But You Wear It so Well

Katniss had just settled onto the couch when the ring from the telephone began to echo up and down the empty hallway. She tried her best to ignore it, figuring her mother or sister would answer first.

Flipping open the cover of her book, she found the page she had dog eared, and scanned the lines to find where she had left off the night before.

The phone continued to be ignored, despite its incessant protests, making it hard for her to concentrate. She read the same line three times and groaned.

By the fifth ring, Katniss realized that no one in the house was willing to answer the call, and apparently the answering machine was disengaged. She recalled, now, an hour long fight with her sister, Prim, over what the outgoing message would be. Prim, carefree and loving soul that she was, wanted a cheerful skit performed by the entire family explaining some hijinks related incident that prevented them from answering the phone. Katniss preferred the default, robotic drone that recited their telephone number before the beep. The argument ended with the answering machine smashing against the far wall of the kitchen.

Katniss rolled her eyes and turned to the page of her book. Who even used a land line anymore?

It was the eighth ring now, and Katniss turned her head curiously towards the phone on the end table beside the couch. It wasn't about answering it anymore. It was about testing the patience of the person on the other end of the line.

Ten rings.

Eleven rings.

Twelve.

The ringing became a natural sound of the house. The trilling came from multiple rooms and bounced off the walls, combining into a deafening noise. Katniss felt like it was her patience that was being tested now.

Finally, the sound became unbearable, and Katniss acquiesced, swiping the phone from the cradle and bringing it to her ear.

"Hello?" she said flatly.

"Katniss! Thank goodness I've reached you." Katniss grimaced at the sound of Effie Trinket's voice, the manager at the Cap-it-and-Go convenience store, where she and Prim both worked. It was a Tuesday during their winter vacation from school, and more importantly, their day off. There was only one reason why Effie would be calling on their day off. "Is Primrose home?"

Katniss let out a sigh of relief that her name wasn't the one pulled from the lottery to be called into work. She covered the mouth of the phone and tipped her chin up to shout for her sister.

Prim came barreling down the hallway at her summons.

"Phone," Katniss said innocently, extending the handset to her.

Her sister was skeptical, and reached for the offered telephone as if it were a dangerous weapon.

"Hello?" she said. Immediately, her round cheeks deflated, and her face formed into the scowl that was the only proof the two girls were actually related. Prim's eyebrows knotted together as she listened to Effie talk her ear off, never bothering to try to get a word in, because when Effie spoke, to her, it was as if no one else was there. Then, suddenly, there was the smallest quiver at the corner of Prim's lips, the one she made when things were going to go her way, as they so often did. "Oh no, Miss Trinket, I'm only 14, I'm not allowed to work past 6PM." Effie began speaking again and Prim twisted from side to side on her planted feet. Her eyes locked with Katniss's, and a grin lit up her face. "Katniss can. She's 18 now. She doesn't have any work restrictions."

Katniss snapped her book shut and gaped at her sister indignantly. She loved the girl, but in this moment, she was ready to rip every honey blond hair from her little sister's head.

"It's for you," Prim said sweetly, handing the phone back to Katniss.

Half an hour later, Katniss was struggling to get her car into gear from the curb outside their house. It had snowed the night before, and most of that had melted only to refreeze into a thick sheet of ice in the morning. Of course Katniss had parked on the wrong side of the hill, behind the growing peak of snow left from the plow. The mountain was taller than she was now, and probably would remain, to some extent, well through the spring.

Rocking her body in the driver's seat, Katniss finally got the momentum to push her car into first gear, and her car rolled forward, clipping the snow pile with her front bumper along the way.

When she pulled into the side lot for the convenience store, she drove around back to park alongside the dumpster, where her colleagues sparkling new Jetta was already waiting. She had never hated a car so much in her life. And even more, she hated that someone who drove such a car would insult the working class by pretending that the wadge he earned was for anything other than buying Dockers or Orange Julius or whatever preppy kids wasted their money on.

She pushed the manual lock into place on the driver's side door and then slammed it shut with a loud creak.

Cap-it-and-Go was nested within the merchant district of Panem between a gas station, The Seam — which was a stupid name because cars didn't run on coal, and a specialty soup shop called Sae's. The highway that ran through town spilled into this intersection at exit 12, drawing mostly out of town passersby in search of a somewhat sanitary bathroom and a 46 oz soda.

There were also the goons from their high school in search of their Friday night six pack, because Cap-it-and-Go was notoriously lax on their carding policy. Katniss hated those guys.

She rounded the building and opened the front door, causing the bells above the frame to jingle.

Peeta Mellark was sitting behind the cash register with his feet poised on the counter and a newspaper spread in his lap. His blue eyes flitted at her curiously from behind his hipster looking glasses. Katniss bet Peeta didn't even need glasses, and that he only wore them so people would value his opinion when he paraphrased the article he was currently reading from the World News section. Peeta was definitely the type.

"Hey," he said, smiling cheerfully at her. "I didn't see your name on the schedule for today."

She pulled off her winter coat and dropped it on the hook along the wall behind the counter. "I was volunteered," she said. She pulled out the chair next to him and rolled it to the far side of the counter, sinking down with a petulant huff.

"You working the double?" he said, grimacing sympathetically.

"Till midnight," she said, disinterested in continuing the conversation. She reached over the register and grabbed a pack of gum, which she ripped open to retrieve a stick.

"Me too."

She forced a smile, but only managed an annoyed flashing of her teeth. "Great," she intoned, before popping the gum into her mouth.

They were quiet for a while, just the shuffling of Peeta's newspaper as he turned the pages. When he reached the end, he folded it back to the original creases and returned it to the news stand.

"So," he said. "How's your vacation going?"

There was a patch beneath the counter where workers had began to coat the surface with the foil from their gum wrappers. Katniss was picking at the corner of hers, to remove it from the waxy paper, but she couldn't concentrate with Peeta talking to her. It ripped, leaving only a tiny piece on the tip of her thumb.

"It could have been better," she said flatly, hoping he would soon get the hint that she didn't feel like talking. Reaching under the counter, she pressed the piece of foil onto the growing mural.

"Did you get all of your college applications in?"

"No," she said.

"Why not?"

"What's the point?" she snapped, ripping another corner of foil from the wrapper. "There are plenty of skills you can learn outside of the classroom, and they pay you to learn them too."

Peeta nodded thoughtfully, as if he were genuinely considering her tirade, even though she was purposely trying to piss him off. He was insufferable.

"That's why I'm looking at schools that do co-ops," he said. "It's half learning, half working, so you sort of make the money back."

"I bet," she said, smoothing her finger over her foil masterpiece.

"Yeah, I applied for early admission to Carnegie Mellon."

Her thumb jerked abruptly, causing her nail to dig up a strip of foil from the underside of the table. CMU was on the other side of Pittsburgh, not too far from Panem. Less than a 20 minute drive. In fact, a lot of houses in her neighborhood were rented by upperclassmen and grad students from the school.

"You won't even have to look for a job," she said dryly. "You can just co-op here!"

"Only if I'm majoring in low level mathematics and execution of boredom."

Katniss smiled at this, then quickly looked away.

A few hours later, Katniss was sitting behind the register while Peeta was stocking the shelves in the chip aisle. He paused, mid motion, a bag of chips clenched in his hands. "You ever notice all the prices end in 9?" he said curiously. "Damn that's eerie."

"It's marketing psychology," Katniss said without missing a beat. "People are too dumb to see the difference of a penny. Even worse, gas prices are rounded to the millicent."

Peeta narrowed his eyes. "Is that even a thing?"

Katniss pointed out the window to where they could see the prices off The Seam station's roadside sign. Peeta stepped behind the counter and leaned over her chair to peer out the window.

"No shit," he said, when he spotted the small nine tacked onto the end of the number.

She couldn't help but glance up at him, with his body hovering over hers the way that it was. She sat rigidly, to prevent herself from accidentally brushing against him, but then he turned ever so slightly, enough to wash the spicy scent of cinnamon beneath her nostrils. Dropping her gaze to her lap, she bit her lower lip between her teeth. She was not attracted to Peeta Mellark.

There weren't many customers throughout the afternoon, but business picked up around 5 o'clock, when most were getting off of work and wanted to stop in for a carton of cigarettes or a case of beer to blow off some steam. Katniss hated this time of night because it was also when high schoolers tried to sneak into the rush of customers to attain contraband they weren't allowed to purchase.

Mark Cato was always one of those guys. He was taller than anyone else in their class, and his broad muscular chest was largely due to steroids, Katniss was convinced. If anyone else were behind the counter, they'd surely sell to this guy, because he looked to be a minimum of 23 years old. But Katniss knew better, and she wasn't going to play his game.

"Hey Pete," Cato said, nodding cordially at him. They weren't good friends, but Katniss had seen them hanging around the same groups at school. "The Popular Crowd" — ie, the rich kids, they'd be categorized as. Once you had a membership into those ranks, it didn't matter how much you had in common with the other, you just naturally flocked together, because that was how the caste system worked. The bottles of Cato's six pack clinked together when he set them on the counter. "I'll take this and a pack of the grape Swisher Sweets." He was fiddling through his wallet to pull out some cash, not even bothering to look up at Peeta as he spoke. "You going to the party tonight?"

"I'm working," Peeta said, swiping the cigarillos from the tobacco rack behind the counter.

"The party will just be getting good by then," he said.

Peeta cast his gaze in Katniss's direction, as if he were embarrassed to have her witness this exchange.

"I'm going to pass," he said, slapping the carton beside the beer. "That's $8.50 for the cigars."

"That's sweet," Cato chuckled. "But I can buy my own beer."

"You know I can't sell you that," he said, sounding resigned.

Cato squared his shoulders and set him with a fiery glare. "Why not?"

"I'll get fired," he said dumbly.

Cato looked towards the exit beside him, and then back at Peeta. He pushed off the counter and nodded, smacking his lips together in a non-placating gesture.

"Fine," he ceded, holding his hands up innocently. "I'll put it back."

Katniss knew damn well that he was going to make a break for the door and she snapped to her feet to claim the six pack before he could.

"That's fine, I've got it," she said, arching her eyebrow in challenge.

Cato's grin was closer to a sneer, and he took a moment to let his eyes dip down her body before returning to her face. "How about you Kitty Kat? You coming to the party tonight?"

"Only if I were lit on fire and on a suicide mission to wipe out your over juiced faction of the human race." She turned to Peeta and tilted her head. "Alcohol is flammable, right?"

Peeta pressed his lips together to suppress his chuckle, his eyes widening with amusement, even though he refused to take a side.

"I didn't realize you were so desperate to get your dick wet," Cato huffed, dropping some money on the counter and grabbing his cigars.

"Don't be jealous because he still has one," she said, narrowing her eyes at him for the implication. "You know the euphemism for twig and berries isn't supposed to be anatomically correct, right?"

"For a dyke, you're awfully interested in my junk," he said, leaning over the counter to leer at her a bit too closely. "If you want it, just ask." Then he pushed off the edge and walked out the door with a cocky swagger that made Katniss's hand ball into a fist.

Peeta let out a long sigh when the door swung shut. "I hate that guy," he muttered under his breath. Katniss moved to return the beer to the cooler, feeling annoyed with Peeta for associating with a jerk like Cato. "Look, Katniss, I don't think you're a…" he trailed off. Mussing his blond curls with his hand, he reconsidered his words. "I mean, it's fine if you are. I just wouldn't call you that. I swear."

She slammed the cooler door shut and marched back to her seat. Folding her arms tightly over her abdomen, she sank down with a grunt. "Why would I care what you think of me? We're not friends."

It was uncomfortably silent for a moment, and Katniss realized that the store was completely empty with nothing to distract her but the sound of Peeta's deep breaths.

"I hear he has backne too," he said, suddenly. "My friend, Delly, hooked up with him at this party and said it was like touching a greasy crater."

"That's gross," Katniss scowled, but already the corners of her mouth were breaking into a smile.

"Steroids are one hell of a drug. He claims it's natural, but I can lift the same as him, and look how puny I am," he said, his voice lilting with laughter.

Katniss's eyes lowered to inspect his broad shoulders. He was wearing a zip up sweatshirt that was closed to just below the collar, but she could recall seeing him in gym class, with his tee shirt stretched tightly across his arms and chest.

She blinked and looked away.

Not many people came in after 9PM, especially not on a Tuesday. Katniss had the day's paper folded in her lap and opened to the games page. She was working on a Sodoku puzzle, her tongue peaking through her lips in concentration, when she could feel a pair of eyes on her. She glanced up in time to catch Peeta's eyes flit away from her, and settle back on the magazine he was leafing through.

"What?" she snapped harshly.

Peeta's cheeks darkened at being caught. "Nothing," he said turning the page again, even though there was no way he had read the last one. He closed it and tossed it aside. "I'm bored. Let's play a game."

"No thanks," she said, raising her eyebrows with fake interest.

"Come on!" His voice took on a playful pleading tone that made her roll her eyes, yet for some reason, she was still smiling. "You said we're not friends, let's be friends. We'll start with a quick getting to know you exercise."

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Like what?"

"Truth or Dare?"

"What? No," she shook her head emphatically. "This isn't a girl's slumber party."

"I promise, I'll play nice if you do."

"Are you always this irritating?" she asked wryly.

He grinned. "Yes," he said. "But you didn't ask if I wanted a truth or a dare first. Keep up Katniss, the rules are pretty easy." He turned his chair so that it was facing her, and rested his elbow on the counter. "Now it's my turn. Truth or dare?"

She laughed. "I'm not playing."

"Good," he said. "I dare you to not play."

"That makes no sense," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"That's the point." He wiggled his eyebrows at her playfully, and chuckled at his triumph. "It's a paradox. If you don't play, then you're actually playing, because that's what I told you to do, and if you do play, well, you're playing."

"Fine. Truth or dare?" she said with a resigned sigh.

"Dare," he said simply.

"I dare you to shut up."

He shook his head, but his smile was so broad that it caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle beneath his glasses. He pushed around some of the papers on the shelf beneath the counter and found one that was reasonably blank. "Truth or Dare?" he scrawled across the page before holding it up for her to see.

"Truth," she said after a moment.

"May I be capable of speaking?" he wrote.

"Obviously," she rolled her eyes at the thought. Peeta talked more than anyone she knew.

"Phew," he said out loud, and Katniss realized she had been tricked again. "Now it's your turn."

"Truth or dare?" she groaned, annoyed.

"Truth," he said without pause.

She looked down at the counter, watching her finger as it traced along the surface. "Why do you hang around with such jerks?"

Peeta took in a sharp intake of breath before he answered. "Because the people I'd rather hang out with don't seem to like me very much."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his and she was caught off guard by how intensely he was looking at her. Peeta was always sarcastic and playful and joking around. In this moment his face was set, completely serious.

"Truth or dare?" he said before she could figure it all out.

"Truth." The word absently tumbled from her mouth.

"Why don't you like me?"

"I, um…" she choked over her answer. "I like you," she said, but even she didn't believe it from her tone.

"Yeah, right. I know you hate me," he said, sounding wounded. "I just want to know what I did, that's all."

She frowned. Peeta had never done anything to her, really. He was always nice to her, even when she was extremely rude to him. She was jealous of him. He was smart, wealthy, attractive, had a ton of friends, and seemed to be genuinely kind. Peeta was perfect, and she hated him for it.

"I was wrong," she said. "I judged you because it was easy. But you're not too bad, I guess."

He smiled and nodded his head. "I'll take that."

"Can we ban truth?" she asked. "This game isn't fun anymore."

"Yeah," he agreed, smoothing his hands over his jeans, he tapped his fingers against his knees in anticipation. "Hit me with your best."

Her eyes scanned the convenience store as she considered her options, pausing when they landed on the dairy cooler. "I dare you to chug a gallon of milk."

"What? No," he shook his head adamantly.

"I'll let you drink skim if you're worried about getting fat," she teased him.

"I'm pretty sure people die from that," he argued.

"No," she said flatly, amusement coating her words. "I'm pretty sure they post the YouTube videos of themselves puking."

"Fine." He dragged his feet towards the dairy cooler and picked a gallon from the top shelf. He hugged it closely to his body, wrapping his hoodie around it. "But not when it's this cold."

While they waited, they did a series of other dares. Katniss fit her entire fist into her mouth, while Peeta attempted very poor cartwheels across the front of the parking lot. Next, Katniss licked a 9-volt battery, before Peeta was dared to take a pregnancy test. When Peeta decided that the milk was suitable for chugging, he stripped off his sweatshirt and tee shirt, and headed towards the door.

Katniss found herself frozen for a moment, incapable of movement, as she watched the muscles beneath his bare back flex to push open the door.

"You coming?" he asked over his shoulder.

Her cheeks felt so hot, she could swear they were on fire. "Um, yes," she said.

It was freezing out, and he hopped up and down on his toes to keep warm. His body was pale, except for his cheeks, neck, and chest, which were deeply flushed from the wind.

He cracked the cap from his milk jug and tipped it back, his Adam's apple bobbing erratically as streams of milk began to dribble down his chin and chest. He'd only drank about half of it, most of which was pooled at his feet, when he hunched over, gasping for air between fits of coughs. Milk and snot hung from his lips and nose, and he had to pull his glasses off to wipe away the tears that were pouring from his eyes as he choked.

"I don't think I can do it," he gasped, swiping the back of his arm across his face.

"I don't think I want to see you try," she said, horrified.

After Peeta had washed up, he came from the bathroom, using his tee shirt to dry his face and chest. He'd only slipped his hooded sweatshirt back on, and the zipper still hung open, exposing his broad chest and narrow abdomen, which seemed to taper perfectly to his dark jeans. Katniss bit her lip, silently chastising herself for gaping at the sight of him. What was wrong with her?

"I'm never drinking milk again," he exclaimed, his head dipping slightly to meet her eye, and she wondered if he'd caught her admiring him.

She cleared her throat. "Me either,"she said. She picked up a package of Oreos from the edge of the aisle and extended it to him, reaching too far and slapping it against his chest. She blushed. "Here, um — this may help to balance your upset stomach."

He laughed and accepted them. "That's funny," he said. "Too much milk, not enough cookies. I know if I were my stomach, I'd be upset too."

"Okay, it's my turn now, right?" he said. He pulled the tab on his zipper up, closing his sweatshirt, and cupped his hands over his mouth to reheat his fingers. She nodded hesitantly. Lowering his hands, he smirked playfully before he said. "I dare you to sit in the window, naked, for five minutes."

Her eyes widened. "No."

"Come on. There's nobody outside. It's not like anyone will even see it."

"It'll be on video," she argued, pointing towards the security camera in the corner.

"We can turn it off," he said. He shook his head, chuckling. "I should have known you'd say no."

Her indignation swept through her like fire, and she planted her hands on her hips. "You don't know me," she said.

"You're right," he said. "But come on Katniss, face it, you're so…"

"What?" she shouted.

"Pure!" he finally said. "You're always so rigid when people are close to you, and you could barely look at me when I took my shirt off before. There's nothing wrong with it. I just figured you were trying to loosen up a bit and have fun."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So having fun, and being likable means taking my clothes off? Thanks for the advice, friend."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said. Katniss pulled her chair out from behind the counter and sat down stubbornly. "I'm trying to say that you have nothing to be ashamed of, that's all." He hoisted himself onto the counter beside the register, dangling his legs over the edge so that they tapped against the outside of her chair. "Sorry. It was a stupid dare," he admitted. "Forget it. I'll think of something else."

She frowned. Maybe she was too insecure about her body and her sexuality. Peeta hadn't even batted an eyelash at their proximity earlier, and she was certain he'd strip naked in a second without question, but that didn't give him a reputation as being experienced or slutty. Nobody talked about Peeta that way at all. And the way Peeta spoke to her, she didn't suspect him of malicious intentions. He seemed honest in his reasoning.

"Ten seconds," she said suddenly. "I'll do it for ten seconds."

His eyes widened. "Katniss, you don't have to do it. I'm serious. It was out of line for me to suggest it."

She stood, turning her chair to face the window. "You said you'd turn off the security cam."

He was bewildered, his jaw slackening, before he snapped back to attention.

"Right," he said. The security system was archaic, and consisted of an old video camera plugged into the video port of a VCR. To disable it, one simply had to remove the VHS tape from the player. What made the system complicated, was finding a way to play the footage.

"The lights too," she instructed. Peeta flipped the main switch beside the door, leaving only the dim lights from the coolers along the wall, and the street lamps from outside, which bounced through the window.

Katniss kicked off her sneakers and socks, before pushing her jeans down her hips. She was curling her fingers under the hem of her tee shirt to remove it when she noticed Peeta was staring at her in complete awe.

"You can't watch," she admonished him, trying to fight the rush that surged through her from beneath his gaze. He turned away and she continued to undress until she was completely nude.

She poised herself carefully on the edge of the chair, her arms draped over her chest and lap to cover herself. There was something strangely thrilling about sitting there naked. She felt confident. She felt free. A spark of energy ignited in her chest,which spread to the tips of her fingers and toes.

It was too much to contain, curled up and covering herself this way. She kicked her feet up to rest on the windowsill and stretched her legs wide. Her back arched to lean against the back of the chair and her arms hung boneless by her sides to lay completely exposed before the window.

Suddenly every fiber of her being ached to be touched. The cool night air kissed her nipples, pebbling them into sensitive buds, and below the stretch of her abdomen, beneath the shroud of dark hairs, she felt an eager buzz come to life. She thought of Peeta on the other side of the room, and another wave of heat twisted and pooled between her legs.

Her eyes lifted to the window, and in the reflection, she spotted him, looking at her. Their eyes locked in the hazy image of their reflections. She wanted to be angry with him for betraying his word, but she liked that he was watching her.

Ten seconds passed, maybe more. Finally she turned her chair to face him again.

His eyes darted away, and he began to whistle sheepishly as if their moment in the window had never happened.

Katniss didn't want it to be over though. Not yet. "Peeta?" she said, her voice a bit frantic. "I dare you to touch me."

He licked his lips and bounced anxiously on his heels. His dark blue eyes were shadowed by a hunger she couldn't recognize as they implored hers. After a moment of hesitation, he moved to the entrance, flipping the locks on the door and pulling down the metal shade. Then in three long strides, he was pulling the cage over the window too.

He sighed heavily and paced the space between them, pausing when he stood before her.

"Where?" he said huskily. "Tell me."

Katniss's lips parted, unable to make a sound. She wasn't sure how to describe what she needed. She'd touched herself before, but she was never in the right mindset. She felt foolish instead of finding the intended pleasure. There was nothing funny about what she felt now.

She knew where her body ached for him, and decided to start there. She took his hand and pressed it firmly against breast, guiding the ministrations until he could repeat the motion on his own. He cupped the soft mound, plying it experimentally between his fingers, and she hummed softly in approval. She encouraged him to her other breast, but instead of lifting his hand, he dropped to his knees and lowered his mouth to attend to it. His tongue swirling over her tightened peak before pinching it between his teeth, the sharp pain leaving her feeling delirious.

The pulsing between her legs became unbearable no matter how she shifted her thighs to quell it. She ushered his hand from her chest and pushed his fingers against where her body throbbed to be touched.

"Jesus," he said, collapsing against her shoulder to groan against her skin. "Katniss, you're so wet."

She lifted her hips to open herself to him, sighing when his fingers began to stroke through her slick folds to coat in her arousal. Then he painted tight circles around her swollen bundle of nerves, building the tempo until she was shouting from the blissful agony.

His tongue continued to lick and nip around her breast, and she could feel the stiffness of his erection grinding against her calf as he touched her.

Her mind was clouded by lust, demanding for more, more, more. Never sated.

He gripped at the arm of her chair with his free hand and used it to steady himself against her.

"Truth or dare; you'll let me taste you," he growled into her ear.

He kissed her then. Licking along the seam of her lips, before his tongue plunged into her mouth with such firm, deliberate strokes that she clenched her knees together in anticipation.

"Yes," she hissed, practically begging. "Both. Please."

The pressure from his fingers left her and she lifted her hips to chase after his touch. He pinned her to the chair, drawing her ass to the edge of the seat to spread her legs wide. Then he settled between her thighs, his dark eyes looking up at her before his tongue tentatively darted out to trace along her opening.

"Oh," she said at the new sensation of his tongue against her. "Oh!" she said again, loudly this time, when his tongue swirled over her clit.

Her fingers knotted into his hair with both hands, and she urged him eagerly towards the motions that brought the most pleasure. He sucked on the bundle at her apex while his fingers dipped inside her, one then two, maybe three, thrusting and stretching, and she threw her head back to call out his name from the feel of him moving within in her.

She cried out when the final flick of his tongue pushed her over the edge. His fingers coaxed her over the crest of her orgasm. Long, even strokes guiding her back to her body.

He looked up at her from between her legs, his chin and mouth glistening from her arousal. Katniss combed her fingers through his hair to smooth out his disheveled curls. "I wasn't even supposed to be here today," she said through an exhausted fit of laughter.

He kissed her thigh, her stomach, then her lips. "Well, I'm glad you came."