I laid with my head on Peeta's lap, on the couch, the tape from the 50th Hunger Games playing on the television. I turned and looked up at his face; he was so concentrated, studying every move of all the tributes. Scanning for tiny details that could benefit us in the Quarter Quell. I on the other hand, stopped paying attention a half an hour ago. I couldn't be bothered with this anymore. I feel bad, but honestly my brain is just so overworked from even imagining being in the games again I just can't pay attention to anything.

"Are you watching?" Peeta asked me, with an accusatory tone. I let a guilty smile come across my face.

"I wish I could tell you I was." I let out a sigh, and rubbed my hands on my face. He realized I was tired, so his hand came up to play with my hair. His eyes were staring into mine, I felt awkward, I felt my face get hot and go red. I sat up as fast as I could and turned myself so that we were sitting beside each other, maybe a foot apart.

"Why do you do that?" He asked me, sounding annoyed with me.

"Do what?"

"You don't let me look at you. You get embarrassed and move away."

I didn't know how to answer him. Was it because I didn't know how I felt about him? Was it because I'm self-conscious? No. In District 12, there is no time to feel self-conscious, no reason to. I don't worry about boys and when they look at me. So what was it? I don't know if what I feel for Peeta is a result of the games. If I was forced to feel this way or not. I feel guilty for Gale. I feel guilty that he didn't get a chance before Peeta did. I didn't have a choice.

He interrupts my thoughts, "I wish you would just let yourself feel for once Katniss. I wish you would just let me go, let me touch you, and have your heart decide what your hands should do and not your brain. Stop thinking so much. Not everything needs a reason. Sometimes you just… you just feel what to do next."

Easy for him to say. He feels everything he does. His cakes, his painting, his words. Very little thinking goes behind them. Which is why all of them always turn out so beautifully, he feels and everything just works out right. He uses his heart. His beautiful heart. I can't do that. Everything I do requires thinking. Strategy. I wondered for a moment what it would be like to hunt by feeling. I doubt I'd keep everyone fed that way.

He put his hand on my leg. Butterflies shot up threw my stomach and all throughout my body. What was that? I looked at him, and saw all of the things he was feeling through his eyes. I wonder what mine look like. Conflicted, probably. Scared. I tried to make myself feel. Tried to make myself give in to what I really wanted. What do I really want? Do I want Peeta? Of course I do. It's the Games that ruined everything. It's thinking of Gale. How much I love him, but can Gale and I ever be together? Do I want to be with Gale? So many questions that I don't want to answer. I realise that for right now, I'm trapped with Peeta whether I like it or not. We have to be in love. We need to be in love. And if that's the way things need to be, why not try it out? Why not test the waters?

He moved closer to me, and put his hand on my chin. He tilted my face up, stared deep into my eyes, and kissed me. Don't think, Katniss, feel. I felt his lips; warm and soft against mine, moving so rhythmically. His hand moved from my chin to cup my face, so strong, so protective. His grasp became tighter; I could tell he was becoming angered with my lack of movement. I put more effort into the kiss, not only moving with him, but making movements of my own. I felt tingles go up my spine when he responded with his hand moving to my side. He had a possessive grip on me, it was tight and controlling. This lit up a spark inside me I'd never felt before. I got excited, I felt my thighs getting hot, I wanted more.

I stood up, and grabbed his hand. My hand slid up his shirt, and felt the hardness of his abs under my fingers. I studied the curves and the detail with my fingers, and bit my lower lip. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I put my hand on the nape of his neck, and stood on my tiptoes and whispered. "Come with me."

I began walking upstairs and he followed me. We went into my bedroom, and I closed the door. I pushed him against it and kissed him hard, slamming our bodies together. I could tell he was surprised, but he didn't stop me. He pulled me closer and his hand rose to my ponytail, and he undid it. He entangled his fingers in my hair, and put one hand on my thigh and lifted me up and wrapped my legs around him. He carried me to the bed, and laid me down. He laid on top of me, all of his weight being put on one arm, and his fingers trailed down my frame. He slid my t-shirt over my head, and studied my body.

I was wearing a simple white bra Cinna had gotten for me. He sent me a million of them, and this was the plainest one I could find out of them all, so it was my favourite. Peeta's fingers traced the outline of it, and his head came down and he kissed my neck. I felt his hot breath against my skin and I felt myself getting more excited. My vision was clouded and I couldn't think straight. His hand slid behind my back and he unclasped the bra, tossing it to the floor. I felt his hands on my breasts, they were so sensitive it sent shivers through my entire body. He left a trail of white hot kisses from my neck, over my breats, and down my stomach. I felt the sensitivity getting more intense, and I started breathing heavily and I felt him smile.

"You're starting to feel, Katniss…" he whispered seductively into my skin. I felt his fingers tracing the line where my pants were. "It's up to you. We can go however far you want us to."

I was frustrated. Why are we wasting all of this time talking? "I thought I made myself clear when I led you up here and slammed you against the door."

"Fair enough," was all he said, and he ripped open my pants with his teeth. I let out a gasp and before I even knew what was happening I felt the most amazing sensation I had ever felt before. He had my pants and underwear at my ankles, and his tongue was in between my folds. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, and arched my back. The pleasure was overwhelming, his mouth was so warm, his so foreign to my body. I felt dripping wetness seeping out of me, and I could barely contain the moans escaping my lips.

My whole body was quivering, he came back up smiling, his hand on my face. I didn't want any games. I wanted more. He got me this far, and he wasn't going to get away with delaying me. My hands went to his shirt and I pulled it over his head. I pulled him down and kissed him hard, dragging his lower lip through my teeth, letting him know how hungry I was for more. I tugged at his jeans, trying to find the concentration to undo the button. When I started touching him, I felt his breathing quicken and get rougher. I was so involved in what I felt I didn't even realise what I could do to him. I grinned, and flipped myself over on top of him.

"My turn," I smirked at him.

I grinded my hips against his, and breathed a hot breath in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe and whispering little croons of pleasure. This made him crazy. His hand went to my thigh and gripped it hard. I undid the button on his jeans and slid them off of him, and rubbed my hand against him. He let out a gasp, and I slid down his boxers. Every little touch I gave him made him quiver, made him weaken.

I decided I didn't want to wait any longer, I wanted him here and I wanted him now. I looked up, his face full of desperation and desire. I got closer, put my forehead against his, and slid him into me. I felt pain, but it was quickly replaced by an overcoming pleasure. I let out a loud groan, without meaning to, and he was panting quickly. His hands found my hips, and he squeezed me hard, and flipped me on my back without disrupting a single thing.

He kissed me all over, put his hand in my hair, and thrust in me powerfully, but not hard. At once I felt crashes of pleasure all throughout my body. One of his hands found my face, his thumb partly in my mouth, gripping me tightly. His mouth came down and bit into my neck, hard. Normally this might've hurt, but the overwhelming pleasure made it feel amazing.

"More," I breathed.

He rammed himself into me harder, and I let out a little scream. My noises got out of control, and I didn't even care. Between the pleasure, and the image of him towering over me, with the look of lust and passion on his face, his muscles glistening in sweat, him being so close, I caved to my feelings altogether. Our rhythm became faster, smoother, and more effective. He came down and kissed me, just as I felt myself orgasm.

I'd heard of these before but I could never imagine it feeling this way. My whole body clenched and I felt the feeling explode into every part of my body. My insides tightened, and I grabbed his hair and pulled him down closer, his head buried in the crook of my neck, his breath against me, and at the feeling of me, I felt him let go, felt his body relax, and he collapsed in a heap on top of me.

We laid there, breathing like we'd just run a marathon. I stroked his cheek, and he rolled off of me. We laid there, not touching each other, just looking at one another. He smiled at me.

"How'd that feel?"

"Amazing." I gasped out.