Katniss

"And so you just put some white in the color you already had and add it to the sides of the petals to make them lifelike," Peeta says as he paints and shows Prim. I scribble song lyrics on a scrap of paper and play occasionally with the guitar in my lap.

"Katniss! Look!," Prim says excitedly. "Peeta painted primroses for me." I glance up and see her pointing at the carefully painted clusters of brightly colored flowers and the leaves with shadows layered so perfect yet effortlessly.

"They're very pretty," I say getting up. "Just like you." She laughs and looks back at the painting.

"Once it dries, how about I hang it up in your room for you?"Peeta asks her.

"Really?" She asks. "Oh thank you so much Peeta!" She hugs him, careful of his paint covered hands and the lets go. "I'm gonna go figure out where I want to put it." She runs upstairs and I hear her door shut. I hand Peeta his rag and he wipes his hands off.

"Thanks," he says.

"It really is good," I say. "I wasn't just trying to butter you up in front of her."

"Thanks," he says. "I'll just put this in the study. It's gonna take about a week to dry." I laugh and start cleaning up his mess while he disappears into the back room. I shut his paint case as he returns.

"Do you have to go into the bakery today?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No," he says. "And I'm still not used to having this much free time. Especially when everyone else our age has two more years of school." I shrug.

"It's not like even if we went to school we'd ever use any of the Panem history or that other junk in a job," I say. 

"How are you using your time?" He asks.

"Dabbling in my supposed talent," I say gesturing at the scribbles on the wrinkled paper. "I'm no good, but hey, just because they heard me sing a lullaby in the games, I must just bleed creativity like you do." He walks over to the scrap and picks it up.

"Interesting," he says. I rush over to him and grab it back.

"I didn't tell you you could look at that," I say.

"You look at unfinished paintings I don't think look like anything but garbage and I don't complain," he says.

"It's different," I say. "My stuff doesn't make the slightest bit of sense" I look down. "Not most of the time anyway." 

"And when it does?" he asks. I shrug.

"I put it in a drawer in my room," I say. "Look it over a couple times and then I just kinda forget it."

"So you get something good and you hide it away?" He says.

"You do too," I say. "I know all the real paintings go in your basement."

"They don't deserve to know about those," he says looking down.

"Well then you should understand that when I put a piece of myself into these stupid lyrics, I'm not giving them that," I say. His gaze softens and he gently lays a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm not telling you to show them," he says. "I'm asking you to show me." I roll my eyes and walk over to the guitar. I put down the now very crumpled piece of paper and smooth it before hopping back on the stool and setting the guitar in my lap. I glare a moment at him and then start to play the chords that open the song I was working on. I just look at the tattered, smugged paper and start to sing the pieces I had been putting together.

"Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn't you love to love her?
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?
All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised to you heaven?
Will you ever win?

"She is like a cat in the dark
And then she is the darkness
She rules her life like a fine skylark
And when the sky is starless
All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised to you heaven?
Will you ever win?
Will you ever win?

"Rhiannon
Rhiannon
Rhiannon
Rhiannon

"She rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn't you love to love her?
She rules her life like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?
All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised to you heaven?
Will you ever win?
Will you ever win?

"Rhiannon
Rhiannon
Rhiannon

"Oooooh
Taken by
Taken by the sky

"Taken by
Taken by the sky

"Taken by
Taken by the sky

"Dreams unwind
Love's a state of mind
Dreams unwind
Love's a state of mind," I stop and lay my hands on the counter. "And then it's just repetitive and gets boring and it's stupid. I'm gonna scrap it."

"Don't do that," Peeta says. "It was good. Kinda making me worry a little. But it was really good."

"Worried?" I ask.

"Katniss, the girl in the song is really obviously you and how you felt when we were ignoring each other," he says. "I don't want you to feel like that anymore."

"I don't," I say. "I wrote this on the train while I was trying to figure shit out. I was just jotting down the music, trying to figure out how it goes.

"That doesn't make me feel much better," he says. I set the guitar on the counter and sigh.

"Well I don't know how to fix it," I say. "That's how I felt then. What's been happening has been so fast, I still don't clearly understand how we ended up from barely making eye contact to spending every spare minute together and planning to marry in secret like Romeo and Juliet."

"Who?" Peeta asks and I roll my eyes.

"I know your blonde, but with how much time you've had alone, you'd think you'd look at the shelf of books all these houses have," I say. "Never mind them. What I'm saying is I know what I felt then and what I feel now. But that in between is when I had a lot of these kind of questions in my head. What did I have to do to get you to take me seriously and talk to me like a normal human being?"

"I do take you seriously," he says. "I always did. I just didn't know how to tell you how I was feeling because like you, I didn't know." He runs his fingers through his hair and looks down. "How many times am I gonna have to apologize for that?" I shake my head.

"I'm not asking you to apologize," I say. "I'm just writing down how I felt. And it feels good. A lot better than holding it in. And with all the crap that's going on right now, we can't hold stuff in. I bet you feel the same about your paintings. And that's why I didn't show you before now. They reveal more than we ever want to show them."

"What exactly are we fighting about?" He asks. I shrug.

"I don't know," I say. "We just need to drop it." I pick up the paper. "And this song isn't worth this."

"No," Peeta says. "But you shouldn't get rid of it. It really is good." I smile.

"Thanks," I say. "I'm glad you like it." I look at him as he stares. "What?"

"When do you want to get married?" He asks. "If that isn't an issue to talk about right now after we just fought." I shrug.

"I don't know," I say. "Prim could come down the stairs any moment."

"Do you want to stay at my house tonight?" He asks. "So we can figure some of this stuff out." I nod.

"I'll come after dark," I say. "Since my mom wants me to keep my distance."

"I'm not going to hurt you again," he says.

"I know that," I say. "But we just have to take what we can get until she believes that." He kisses me softly. I rest my hand on his chest as he cups my cheek.

"So midnight then?" He says.

"Midnight," I reply. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and then leaves. I watch him go, regret that I have to hide him from my mother building in my heart with each step he takes.