His left hand rested respectfully on the side of her waist, the right clasping her hand gently as they moved around the room to the lively sounds of District One's orchestra. He smiled at her, a smile full of charm and enthusiasm and flirtation, his eyes bright and engaging.

For reasons she didn't entirely understand, the sight made Katniss Everdeen's blood boil.

She stood on the edge of the dance floor, half-heartedly pretending to listen to the conversation that Effie and the wife of the Mayor were enthusiastically engaged in. Katniss didn't care about diamonds, didn't care about how they would look in a necklace, or if they would look better set into a pair of earrings. She didn't care about any of that.

The only thing she currently cared about was the way Peeta was dancing with the winner of the 71st Hunger Games. And the way the woman's breasts looked like they were going to spill out of the top of the glittery, low-cut dress that was the same colour as her name, as she stared at Peeta hungrily.

She couldn't watch this for another moment.

"Excuse me Effie, Ms Voclain," she muttered, then began to stomp her way across the room, trying to reign in her instinct to just push everyone out of her way. Instead, she smiled through gritted teeth, nodded at their hellos, politely stepped around them. And, coming up behind Peeta, gripped onto his shoulder far tighter than she needed to.

She felt him jerk as he quickly turned to face her - the shock, and a little bit of fear, was clear on his face, before it visibly settled into what she'd come to recognise as his 'Party Face'. Polite and friendly, all the while giving nothing away as to what he was thinking or feeling.

"Katniss, is everything okay?" he asked, his tone tinged with concern.

She knew everyone in the room was watching them - everyone was always watching them. But right now, their stares felt like they were cutting right through her, and she felt her hackles rise even more.

"Oh things are fine," she said loudly, her voice taking on a weird affectation. She had no idea where it had come from, but she sounded almost like Effie when she was trying to pretend she wasn't ready slap them both on the wrists for not behaving with 'proper manners'. What had gotten into her? "Effie thought it might be a good idea if we danced together again."

"Oh she did, did she?" The corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile, even while he continued to keep his hand on Sapphire Erickson's stupid waist.

"Yes, she did."

"But I believe it's still my turn," Sapphire interrupted, ending her words with a playful little giggle. Katniss wasn't fooled. The woman had cut both arms off the Tribute from Five with little more than a few quick flicks of a machete, all the while with a smile on her face.

"I don't care," Katniss said haughtily, her body almost thrumming with annoyance. "I'd like to dance with my...boyfriend."

With a barely audible sigh, Peeta turned back to Sapphire, smiled charmingly. "Do you mind? I probably should spend a little more time with Katniss before the end of the evening."

"Fine," Sapphire pouted prettily, then lifted a hand to brush against his cheek. "Maybe save another for me later?"

"Of course," he said. She beamed, then shot a look so full of venom at Katniss she was surprised she wasn't dead from it, before flouncing off towards the bar.

Peeta reached out his hand towards her, and Katniss took it, allowing him to draw her in. She looped her arm around his neck, her fingers resting at the base of his neck, using the warmth of his skin against hers to try and calm herself down. Neither of them said anything at first, moving leisurely around the dancefloor, the steps almost second nature to them after party upon party in each of the Districts. Effie hadn't had to reprimand them on their dancing in days, had even complimented them on their Waltz only that morning at breakfast.

Katniss had just rolled her eyes in response, and had shoved another piece of waffle into her mouth with her bare hands.

"Katniss, dahling, you look amazing!"

"I love your dress, so stunning!"

"Peeta, save a dance for me!"

"Ugh, I would die to get my hands on him. Can you imagine what he'd look like out of that suit?"

The voices carried around them as they danced, people calling out salutations and adulations - some of them simple and relatively innocent, others clearly far more graphic in their insinuations.

It made Katniss' skin crawl.

"So what was with that?" Peeta finally murmured, his hand splayed against the small of her back. For some reason, tonight, her entire body was aware of that very simple touch.

"What was with what?"

"With that whole scene. And that...voice. That pseudo-Effie thing you had going on." With a pair of heels on, she was looking him dead in the eye - there was nowhere to avert her gaze away from him, without it looking obvious. So she jutted her chin, stared him down.

"There was no voice," she insisted briskly, even while her cheeks pinkened. "I was just doing what I thought people would expect me to do."

"What, make a scene on the dancefloor?" He tightened his grip, pulled her in close so his mouth almost brushed against her ear. "Sweetheart, one thing you don't do is shoot daggers with your eyes at a previous Victor."

"Well you just can't go around manhandling whoever you want to," she snapped back immediately.

Her skirt - white, shot through with gold - swirled around her legs as Peeta spun them in a lazy circle. "I wasn't manhandling anyone. I was simply dancing with Sapphire, as was expected of me. The Mayor requested it." He paused for a moment, his eyebrow lifting in question, the amusement in his eyes clear. "If I didn't know any better, Katniss, I'd say you were jealous."

She froze in his arms.

"I'm not jealous," she choked out.

"Are you sure?" His tone had taken on a playful edge, one that she rarely heard any more. The further along they got on this tour, the more morose, the more quiet, the more serious Peeta became.

"Absolutely. I've got nothing to be jealous about. We're just supposed to be getting married, and it doesn't make sense for you to be flirting with her!" she hissed, even while she forced a smile onto her face.

"I wasn't flirting - and the key word there is supposed," he muttered back, the playfulness gone as quickly as it had appeared, his fingers tightening around hers. "We're only doing it for Snow, remember? It's just for show. And keep your voice down - we can't afford for anyone to hear about it before I propose."

Katniss clenched her jaw. She knew it was only for Snow - she wasn't stupid. She'd been the one to suggest it, had set the plan in motion on the train, knowing it was the only thing that could possibly save them. But…

"Fine." She replied bluntly. "Just try not to look like you're having too much fun with the other women here."

"For Snow's benefit?"

"Yes. For Snow's benefit." Of course it was for Snow's benefit. Who else's benefit would it be for?

"Good," Peeta said smoothly. "So you won't mind if I do dance with Sapphire again, just so long as I look incredibly bored."

"I...don't care what you do," Katniss forced out. Why was it so hard for her tonight? Why did the thought of Peeta embracing another woman on the dancefloor make her want to stamp her foot?

Why did the thought of Peeta embracing another woman away from the dancefloor make her want to throw up?

Peeta sighed, shifted slightly so the side of his head rested against hers. She felt his chest expand with the deep breath he took in and released. "You know I don't want to dance with her again, Katniss, happily or otherwise. You know as well as I do that I don't want to be here."

"It didn't look that way to me. Or to anyone else," she murmured, the annoyance and frustration that had driven her over to him slowly beginning to settle. He was always good for that - calming and soothing her when she was upset, when she was mad, when she was...whatever she was right now.

"Katniss, I don't care what anyone else thinks. Only you. And if you think I'm having a good time tonight, you're incredibly mistaken."

She swallowed heavily, pulled her head back so that she could look at him again. "Are you sure?"

Peeta nodded. "I promise there's no-one else here I would rather dance with. Let's just...get this over with. We're almost at the end, and then we can go home. Okay?"

"Okay," she said quietly. She moved back in close to him, and they continued to dance, continued to do everything they were expected to do. Hugged, kissed, conversed with all the 'important' people.

But it still didn't change a thing, what she'd indignantly refused to admit to him. What she stubbornly refused to completely admit to herself.

She was jealous. And she didn't know why.

He wasn't even hers to be jealous over in the first place.