I climb through the large hole in the ceiling and onto the tiled roof of my house in the Victors Village. I try to keep my balance as I walk over to the edge of the tiles. I carefully sit down on the firm roof, looking out over district twelve. I sit with my legs tucked up to my chest, my arms wrapped tight around my knees. I've been sitting up here a lot recently, because of the view, because of the peace and quiet. I tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear and let out a sigh of relief I didn't realise I was holding. The spring breeze whips at my jumper gently, cooling me from the burning sun.

"You're not gonna jump, are you sweetheart?" Haymitch's voice fills the air by the gape in the roof as he joins me. He carefully sits down on the edge of the tiles, scooting up close to me. "No, I'm not gonna jump," I reply. His question doesn't surprise me. Since my return to twelve I've not been the most stable of people, but with Peeta's friendship things have been easier. A moment of comfortable silence passes before Haymitch fills the silence. "What'd you do to your hair?" It takes a while for his question to process, then I remember.

"Wanted something different, I guess," I reply. I cut my braid off yesterday. I just wanted something new. I now model a short bob, which I cut quite tidily. If I do say so myself. "You don't like it?" I ask, although I don't care much for Haymitch's opinion.

"No, I do, it suits you," I know he means it, compliments are rare from Haymitch, he doesn't give them if they're not required.

"Thank you." Is all I say.

The roof looks out over Peeta's house, Haymitch's house and behind that, the meadow - which although know one seeds it, has begun to turn green again. I used to love to take a walk through the meadow, but after the bombings, it's as good as a graveyard now. I leave flowers there each day I hunt, but I can hardly bare it. District twelve is in the process of being rebuilt, food and other supplies are shipped in from the Capitol each day assuring know one goes hungry. In the big scheme of things, our world is well.

A few minutes later I spot Peeta leaving his house. He's been great. He comes around for dinner every night with Greasy Sae. He is as cured from his hijacking as he ever will be, Dr Aurelius had phoned up to tell me so. He won't hurt me, but he still has breakdowns that the doctor likes to call 'venom attacks'. He can tell what is real and what is not, but some nights, at dinner, we still play real or not real, just so he can be sure.

I only realise I've been staring at Peeta, when Haymitch breaks the silence. "How are you two?" He asks, referring to Peeta and I.

"Good," I say. "He comes around for dinner almost every night," I say.

"He visits me most days. He's the same old Peeta I once knew," Haymitch adds.

"Yeah...except he's not as affectionate as he used to be. Not towards me. I took him for granted when he was and now I miss it," I croak, a single tear runs down my cheek, but I don't know why. I squeeze my eyes shut in order to conceal the rest. Haymitch pats my back softly.

"Well sweetheart, if it bothers you that much then it must be love." With that, Haymitch gives me a small smile, before leaving my side and disappearing from the roof.

The air begins to chill, causing goosebumps to spread over my skin, so I decide to go inside. With Haymitch's words following me around like a rain cloud for the rest of the day. "...it must be love..." Frankly, I'm in no position to deny it.

After warming myself up by the coal fire, I hear a knock at the door. It must be Peeta and Greasy. I find my hand on the cool, bronze doorknob and pull the door open and there he stands on the front step. His cheeks rosy, his blue eyes clear and innocent, his muscular body has filled out again. He looks healthy, as if he had never been in war, except for the burn scar across his left cheek, which has dramatically reduced in size since.

I search for Greasy Sae behind him, but I can't seem to find her. "Where's Greasy?" I ask. He steps inside as he answers.

"She has a bad cold, she didn't want to pass it on to us," He replies. So, it's just us then.

"So, how are you?" I finally ask, as Peeta heads to the kitchen to prepare our meal.

"I'm good, as good as I can be," He smiles gently. A smile, it warms my heart when I can get one out of him. "A bit confused about some things, but Dr Aurelius says it will pass," Maybe I can help, I think.

"What are you confused about?" I ask, as Peeta reheats some cheese buns in the oven.

"I have this memory of you pushing me into an urn after the interviews for our first games. Did you actually do that? Real or not real?" I laugh at the memory of it, not because I wanted to hurt him, but because it seems so insignificant and silly now.

"Real" I laugh. "After you confessed your undying love for me on live television, I defensively pushed you into an urn, because I thought you were trying to make me look weak. Only to later find out that you were trying to bribe me sponsors to save my life." He turns to face me. Our eyes meet. Usually his eyes dart away, but this time they don't, it's a small moment, but it's so significant in our relationship.

Suddenly his eyes move from mine and to my lips, then to my neck and back again. His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows and I wonder what he's thinking. "I really like your hair," He finally says. "It suits you,"

"Thank you," I say. " I did it myself." I smile timidly.

"Really? I've never thought of you as much of a hairdresser," He rubs his fingers through his mop of blonde hair. "You should do mine, after we eat," he says. "It needs a bit of a cut."

After we've ravaged through our cheese buns, which as usual, were delicious, I take Peeta to the bathroom to cut his hair. I situate him on a small stool in front of the tall mirror against the wall. I stand behind him, scissors in hand. "Now don't mess this up." He warns with a laugh. Carefully I take a small clump of hair between my fingers, I run it up and trim small bits off the ends. I continue this strategy over his whole head of hair, so by the time I'm finished it's shorter and neater. I lay the scissors down by the sink, I spot Peeta staring at me in the mirror. He does that thing again, where his eyes dart from my eyes to my lips and back again, only then do I realise I'm doing the same.

I know what it is that I want, I want to put my lips to his, but I know that it's too soon. I know that if I were to do that, things between us would be too complicated to bare. As hard as I find it, I resist the desire. "Thank you," He says. He runs his hand through his blond locks. "Better than my mother ever did," he turns around and my face is closer to his than what is safe, the urge returns, but I ignore it. "I best be off," He says. No! I think. Don't leave me to face another retched nightmare alone. I don't ask him to stay, I don't have the courage to do that at this stage. We've only just started to be comfortable around each other again, forget intimate.

So, I let him go.