I hear the knock on my door as I'm lacing my boots. I look up and let my orange maxi dress fall to the ground as I walk over to the door. I feel my heart beating  quickly in my chest and carefully stand up. Though my boots and skirt cover me fairly well, I feel oddly uncovered, with the whole of my tattoo crawling across my body for the whole world to see. I push my hair to the side and carefully walk over to the door. I open it and look up at him  and he just smiles at me. 

"Wow," He says softly and I glance at him, feeling that nervous flutter in my chest from when I used to meet him in the old stone house. He's wearing his worn jean jacket, a plain, dark green T-shirt with the surprising absence of a speck of paint, blue jean and clean skateboard shoes. I look at him and nervously play with my necklace. 

"Sorry, I suppose I must be little over dressed," I say quietly and he shakes his head. His cheeks turn a pale red and scratches the back of his neck. 

"No, it isn't that," He says. "I've just, never seen you dressed in color before." I look down at the pale colored dress and cross my arms awkwardly.

"Yeah, I know it's a bit bright," I say and he chuckles. 

"It suits you, Katniss," He says. "It looks really nice on you." I feel his eyes studying me and I carefully look up at him. I want so badly to return the compliment, but I know I can't lead him on.

"Where are we going?" I ask and he smirks. "I mean, you only told me to look nice, so I really don't know."

"There's an old dance hall down the road," Peeta says. "I thought it might work to take your mind off things, since you seemed so bothered on the phone." I smile  at him and nod. 

"I'd like that," I say smiling. I shut my door and look up at him. We walk down the hall together and I feel myself just taking in the sweet, walnut smell of the blood pumping through his veins. My whole body feels warm as I walk with him out of the run-down dormitory. He looks at my arm and smiles at me. I look up at him and he looks away.

"Sorry, I guess I was staring," he says and I blink at him. "It's just the first time I've seen your whole tattoo. You usually cover it up." I glance at the bird on my shoulder, the branch that reaches forth from my spine and across to my collarbone. 

"I guess I just realized that I didn't need to hide it from you," I say quietly. After all he was the one who drew it. He smiles, reaching out and touching my skin, making me flinch a little from the warm touch. 

"It's a mockingjay," he says. "She suits you." I tilt my head and he smiles as he pulls his hand away.

"How did you know it was a female?" I ask. "It's in greyscale, so you can't see that she doesn't have the blues and greys in her plumage. He smiles and carefully points, careful not to touch me.

"She doesn't have the thick  black bars on her flight feathers," He says. "Someone told me that it's a straightforward way to tell, besides their obvious pale coloration as opposed to the males." I stop, looking at him, searching his face for that familiar glimmer that I've caught from time to appear before me. I can almost see it as I tilt my head. "What?" The familiar light leaves suddenly, replaced by just the gentle blue eyes of my new friend.

"Who told you that?" I ask. "Mockingjays are rare around these parts and even then, people don't know what they are." He blinks at me, clearly confused himself. He shakes his head.

"I don't remember," He admits. "It's the funniest thing. I saw her face so clearly a moment ago." I nod and look away. 

"You know Peeta," I say softly. "I never have been dancing with a guy before." He looks at me strangely, his blue eyes studying my face for any sign of a joke. "I mean, I've gone out with friends, maybe danced a little after a few drinks in a club, but I've never properly gone out with such intention."

"Your boyfriend never took you to a formal or a prom?" He asks and I smirk, shaking my head. I look at him and my eyes seem to flicker as his clothes for a moment look like a smart coat and trousers of the young man I fancied back in the colonies. 

"Where we grew up, it wasn't," I look down, "People didn't like seeing us together. It was very old fashioned and me being not a pretty little auburn haired white girl didn't set well. Especially with his family." I look back up at him, shakinging my head. "We met primarily in secret, which meant, we never got the luxury of a ball while he was on this side of the river of life."

"He sounds like a fool not to just suck it up and walk with you, unashamed of you," Peeta says and I look sternly at him. 

"He loved me," I say boldly. "That boy loved me more shamelessly than any man in history. But he knew that consequences would not fall on him, but on me. So to keep me safe, we only met in the wilderness, under the cover of night. No one outside the two of us ever knew of the indiscretions that went on between us for my own safety." I look down at the necklace on my chest, gripping my necklace as we walk. "If only I was able to realize and be unashamed of my own feelings, had the courage to run away with him as he had planned, we'dd of gotten a chance to live out our lives and he wouldn't be laying in a grave." I feel a tear running down my cheek and a warm hand slips into mune, hanging by my side. I look over at him and shake my head. "I was carrying his child when I lost him." He looks at me uncomfortably and I squeeze his hand.

"You had a baby?" He asks and I shake my head, sighing. 

"I didn't even know about the baby until I lost it," I say. "6 weeks. No way to even know if it were a boy or a girl. I had a lot of regrets about it. I mean, he wanted kids so terribly someday. He wanted to be a school teacher, he loved children so much." I look down at our hands, shaking my head. "Sorry, you don't need to hear my sob story." I start to let go of his hand, but he closes his firmly around my fingers, bringing my knuckles to his lips. 

"It's okay," He says and I look up at him, blinking away my tears. "I don't care. I know it must have been awful to have lived through so much at such a young age." I chuckle at the irony. Young? Sure all these events happened when I was young, 20-21. It's been so long ago I'd lost track. But the moment that my body turned to that of an immortal, the curse healed over my womb and killed my and Peeta's child, it feels as raw as the day it happened, in the winter of 1786. I smile gently and shake my head.

"You know, you are the first person I've ever told," I admit. "other than my cousin, I suppose, seeing as he found me, helped me hide the evidence that anything had ever happened."

"I'm guessing this is the same cousin that you lost today?" He asks and I nod. He lets my hand down and stops us. "You know, we don't have to go out. I can see how bothered you are." I shake my head and let go of my necklace. 

"No," I say quietly. "I think I do need this." I squeeze his hand and look up at him. "I need to let this all go fo a while, lean on you while you are still willing." He nods and stops at the door to the little hall. I can hear low music playing, a slow song from way back when. I look at Peeta and he glances at me, looking around at all the old souls trying their best to enjoy their golden years. The average age has got to be 65.

"Sorry, I didn't realize that it was oldies night," He says nervously. I glance at him and shrug.

"I don't mind," I say quietly, tilting my head as I watch them softly swaying with one another to the sweet music from old USO Victory dances. While I didn't go to catch a man like so many girls from the 40's and 50's might, a healthy bite to eat was easily found among returning soldiers. I smile at him and look at his arm. "Well, aren't you going to ask me to dance, Mr. Mellark?" I ask and he chuckles. 

"Alright," Peeta says, sounding mildly amused, "May I?" He offers his hand and I carefully take it. He leads me to a spare space on the worn hardwood and carefully lays his hand on my waist, his fingers resting along my spine, giving me goosebumps. I rest my hand upon his shoulder and carefully allow him to lead me through the slow dance. I let my fears, my apprehensions, my pure disgust at what i'm letting myself do fall away as I dance around with him, feeling lighter than air. 

We go along like this for a few songs, until a true, slow melody falls around us. Peeta apprehensively pulls me closer to him and I feel my head resting upon his chest, listeninging to the rapid, almost nervous beating of his heart. My hands rest on his back and I breath in the soft scent of him, the musk of the cologne he wears, the warm woody scent of his blood. Even the slight salt of his nervous sweat. I relish in it, nearly losing myself in it. I can feel my teeth coming out as  my hunger for this boy tries to take over.  I move my head a little, getting closer and closer to the large, life filled vessels just above his shirt collar. Peeta notices me stiffen and pulls away a little.

"You okay?" He asks softly and I take a deep breath as I look up at him. The fangs recede and I blink at him. I smile and carefully run one of my hands against his cheek, against all the better judgement. 

"I'm okay," I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and comfort of Peeta Mellark. Whether it is the real boy from all those years ago or this new descendant of his that I am truly seeing in front of me, I don't know. But I feel it all, all the love all over again in that moment and I really don't care. "I think for the first time in a long, long while. I really am okay."