Gn reader who's referred with they/them!

---

When you first met Peeta, you had never paid a thought on developing a crush on him when you'd grown up. You were actually annoyed by him trying to be your friend - you had always been alone, you had survived alone. You didn't need someone coddling you like a child. Even when you were children at the time.

Him not caring about you trying to push you away eventually developed into a tentative friendship. You still had your walls up, but Peeta just... knew what to say, how to chip your walls away. He even got you to open up a few times. You told him about always being an outcast in your District - District 9. People there seemed to think there was some kind of curse upon you, as everyone around you was always sent to be hunted at the Hunger Games, and they never won. Even those who said they didn't believe in it, had started to avoid you.

And in a way, you were scared about it too. Letting anyone close would sentence them to death, so you started to avoid any friendships, any kind of relationships. Eventually, you fled your District, smuggled yourself to the farthest District you could get to. You built yourself a little hut in the woods and did as much by yourself as possible.

You knew that getting caught would end up in great trouble, but at least that trouble would only be bestowed upon you. Hardly no one knew who you were, where you came from and why you are rarely seen and don't talk to anyone.

You were barely a teenager when you arrived in District 12. In the middle of the night, you found yourself a place to be, and only a month later, you first met Peeta, who had become curious of the mysterious person who lives by themselves in the woods. Compared to how your relationship left off, you shouting at him to get out of your property and then giving him silent treatment when he kept coming back, it was a surprise you had grown close over these three years.

Still, every year you dreaded the Games coming again. Year by year, the feeling grew - this time Peeta would get chosen. This time he would die. This time the curse would hit him too.

And every year, Peeta came over the previous night and stayed with you, reassuring you that he wouldn't leave you. He reminded you about how narrow the chance is, he held your hand, making your heart race, making all the flashbacks take a step back.

The flames danced in your eyes as Peeta held your hand. He ran his thumb over your knuckles, staring into the fire with you, and you swallowed.

"What if... what if it happens this time?" you mumbled. "You have more and more entries every year, and you're already sixteen. The chance grows each time, and–"

"I know," Peeta interrupted you. "I just try to not think about it."

You huffed. "I've only been at the Reaping two times. And both times, someone I knew was chosen and died. I was probably the only one there who wished it would be me. I would have thrown myself at someone purposefully, so I wouldn't curse anyone ever again."

You saw from the corner of your eye that Peeta had turned his head towards you. Some years ago, back when you met, he might have told you you're not a curse, just incredibly unlucky. And how everyone in your District surely knew you somehow, they would have accused you about anyone. But now, he just let go of your hand and pulled you into him, stroking your back as you leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

He still said it, but wordlessly. He knew you appreciated it more than him saying it. Words had little weight compared to actions with you. Yet another thing Peeta knew to do just right, which anyone else didn't know how to do. You almost felt like he was meant to be there, you were meant to meet him. As if he was your soulmate, like in some silly romance book you once read when Peeta gave you that as a gift.

You wished you had enough courage to kiss him, you wished you would just sit up and lean in. Take the leap, take the risk. But you were still afraid, after all this time - if Peeta was chosen, his likely rejection would feel even more crushing. And if he returned your feelings and was chosen - your heart would break once he was killed. And in any case, you believed it was Katniss he wanted. Not you. Who would want you anyway?

Lying here against him was a momentary comfort for what tomorrow would bring. You wouldn't be able to attend - officials would return you to District 9 right after they discovered you don't belong in District 12. You always hid away on that day. District 9 had likely announced you dead by now, not seen for years.

"You come right back to me when the Reaping is over," you muttered, feeling his hand rubbing your arm. "I want to know immediately when you get out. The feeling is worse this year."

"You say that every year."

"But this year it's actually worse, a lot worse."

He didn't reply, just sighed, knowing there was no use in arguing. You were quiet for a moment again, before Peeta shifted slightly.

"It's late. Do you want me to stay over?"

You slowly sat up, meeting his eyes briefly. "I may not be able to sleep."

He stood up and held his hand out to you. "Then you'll listen to me snoring. Maybe that will comfort you."

You bit back a smile at that, taking his hand and letting him pull you up. You stood there for a moment, and you swore you saw him glancing at your lips. And at that moment, a voice started chanting in your head.

Kiss him.

Kiss him.

Kiss him.

But you pulled away, clearing your throat. Peeta frowned at you, and you took in a shaky breath. "Are you sure you want to come over?"

He stared at you for a moment and nodded, and you kicked dirt on the fireplace to extinguish the flames. You then turned towards your hut, but were stopped by Peeta grasping your hand. "Wait."

You turned back to face him, cocking your head. He smiled, a kind of smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and your heart started to race.

"What is it?" you whispered, somehow knowing where this was going, but you didn't dare hope.

"I said I don't believe I'll be chosen, but... if I still–"

You shook your head. "Don't say that, it's enough that I'm–"

He interrupted you, "I want to look at you one last time. I want to remember your face if I end up dying on that battlefield."

Your lips parted slightly, and you blinked at him. "Peeta, what are you–"

"Shh."

And then, his lips were on yours, and the world seemed warmer once more.