The clock ticks as he watches her sleep. Katniss. She looks beautiful in the moonlight streaming though the open window, when the lines of stress and worry left her face and she relaxed. Her hair lies spread all around her on the pillow like a halo as she sleeps peacefully, her chest rising and falling in time with her heartbeat. The bed covers lie thrown and creased on the floor. Neither of them liked sleeping under potential traps like duvets anymore. He reaches out to touch her cheek. Her brow wrinkles and she stirs before opening her eyes.

"Peeta."

Her voice, croaky from being unused , sounds content.

"Hey," He says gently. Her eyes close again and she turns her face towards his hand. She's still drowsy from sleep. "Go back to sleep, love."

As he takes his hand away, she grabs it and pulls him close.

"Stay with me."

"Always."

He settles close beside her and gathers her into his arms. They're so accustomed to each other from the nights of constant nightmares that they fit together. They hold each other together to stop them falling apart.

Soon after he's woken by her thrashing as her nightmare takes hold. He is trying to wake her when she flies upright and shrieks "PEETA!"

"Its okay, Katniss, I'm here! I'm okay! Katniss, everything's alright. It wasn't real."

She takes a shaky breath as she reaches out. He takes her hands and pulls her into him. Her hair smells like that earthy scent that she can never get rid of from spending so long in the woods.

"Another nightmare. Want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head against his chest. She's clinging on to him tight. Whatever the nightmare was about it was bad enough for her to need an anchor to reality. Him. He holds her tight and whispers her sentences into her ear, because she's still sobbing.

"Your name is Katniss Everdeen. You're seventeen years old. You're home in district 12. You were in the Hunger Games. Twice. You escaped. You were the Mockingjay. You helped the rebels overthrow the Capitol and rescue me. You killed Coin. Snow is dead. You're home in district 12. You're safe."

Even though they both know the last fact isn't true, he still says it. Their times as tributes and now as victors have taught them that if life is anything, it isn't safe. But it is reassuring to hope.

"You pretended to love me so that we could both survive the Games. We were fake engaged and then fake married and then you were fake pregnant. Haymitch, you and I devised this plot in our first Hunger Games. You-"

"You're wrong."

The sudden interruption comes as a surprise.

"What?" He says, surprised.

She pulls her head away from his chest and looks him in the eyes. The tracks of her tears down her cheeks glint in the moonlight. Her grey eyes are serious. She untangles herself from him. Before she speaks she bites her lip, hesitant.

"I love you."

She looks away, hiding her face behind her hair, but he can see her taking sneak peeks at him, trying to gauge his reaction. Inside his head he's in turmoil. The words that he has been longing to hear for forever, and now he doesn't even know if they're true.

"Peeta, please say something."

She pushes away her hair and looks at him properly. She looks worried and her eyes, usually so cold and strong, look vulnerable and anxious. He gets off the bed, stands up and moves over to the window. He can see the remains of the rest of district 12 in the distance.

"You don't believe me."

The heartache he hears in her voice sounds so pained that he wants to gather her up in his arms again and promise her that he does. But he doesn't go over to her. He stays at the window, looking out. Because his heart's been broken before, and he doesn't want to relive the experience. And as much as he loves her, right now they're both too damaged and dangerous for anyone to trust. He doesn't even trust himself anymore.

"Do you remember the day at school, after you gave me the bread?"

The question startles him. Of course he remembers every moment he saw her. When they were five, and he fell in love. When they were eleven, and he gave her the burnt bread she claims kept her alive. Every time she passed the bakery window when coming to trade her game with his father. Every conversation they had after the reaping is imprinted in his mind. The nights on the train, during the victory tour. There is nothing she could do that would make him forget her, or want to forget her. But lying to him feels like a cruel betrayal.

"I wanted to go up to you, to thank you. But I couldn't. I still don't know why. You met my eyes and we both looked away. And that's when I saw the dandelion. It made me realise that I could survive, that my family wouldn't starve to death right then. When we got home from school that day, I took…I took Prim out to the Meadow and we gathered the flowers and that night we ate dandelion soup. I can never shake the connection of you giving me the bread and me realising I could survive. You saved me, Peeta."

He turns to her, but still stays standing, still wary. He's told her before what she means to him, but this is the first time she's telling him that he means something to her.

"And then, do you remember in the Capitol, when you were talking to Gale, and he said I would choose whoever I couldn't survive without?"

Again, he is surprised. He hadn't known she was awake for that conversation.

"I felt so hurt, so betrayed that both of you thought that. It made me sound so cold and calculating. That I wouldn't be swayed by love or passion, but would just choose whichever one of you could keep me alive longer."

She pauses, trying to choose the right words to say, to make him understand what she is saying.

"But then I realised the difference between living and surviving. I could live without both of you. I could stay sitting in my rocking chair all day and be reclusive and mad - I would still be living. But I couldn't survive without you. Who would keep the nightmares away? Who would keep me supplied with cheese bread?"

The small smile that had appeared on her face at that thought disappears.

"Who would remind me that life is still worth having, even when death seems like an escape from all the pain and sadness of losing everything dear to you? Because you're my dandelion, Peeta. You remind me that there is still hope for me, for everyone. That's why I couldn't survive without you."

The tears in her eyes he can see as she walks over to me push away his doubts. She keeps walking until her eyes are millimetres away from his. One tear spills over her lashes and he reaches up to brush it away. Her hand catches his and she laces her fingers through his fingers and holds on tight. What she says next is completely honest.

"I'm so sorry. For everything. For me. For hurting you so much that you can't believe me anymore. For taking so long to realise what I've always felt. For being too late."

She lets go of his hand. Without looking back she makes her way to the bedroom door and opens it. But before she can leave he catches her wrist and turns her round to face him.

"Finally." He says roughly, and pulls her in to kiss her.