¨You would have found me if you could；〃 I say。 His foreheadˇs burning up。 Like the medicineˇs having no effect at all。 Suddenly； out of nowhere； Iˇm scared heˇs going to die。
¨Yes。 Look； if I donˇt make it back 〃 he begins。
¨Donˇt talk like that。 I didnˇt drain all that pus for nothing；〃 I say。
¨I know。 But just in case I donˇt 〃 he tries to continue。
¨No； Peeta； I donˇt even want to discuss it；〃 I say； placing my fingers on his lips to quiet him。
¨But I 〃 he insists。
Impulsively； I lean forward and kiss him； stopping his words。 This is probably overdue anyway since heˇs right； we are supposed to be madly in love。 Itˇs the first time Iˇve ever kissed a boy； which should make some sort of impression I guess； but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever。 I break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag up around him。 ¨Youˇre not going to die。 I forbid it。 All right？〃
¨All right；〃 he whispers。
I step out in the cool evening air just as the parachute floats down from the sky。 My fingers quickly undo the tie； hoping for some real medicine to treat Peetaˇs leg。 Instead I find a pot of hot broth。
Haymitch couldnˇt be sending me a clearer message。 One kiss equals one pot of broth。 I can almost hear his snarl。 ¨Youˇre supposed to be in love； sweetheart。 The boyˇs dying。 Give me something I can work with！〃
And heˇs right。 If I want to keep Peeta alive； Iˇve got to give the audience something more to care about。 Star…crossed lovers desperate to get home together。 Two hearts beating as one。 Romance。
Never having been in love； this is going to be a real trick。 I think of my parents。 The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods。 The way my motherˇs face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door。 The way she almost stopped living when he died。
¨Peeta！〃 I say； trying for the special tone that my mother used only with my father。 Heˇs dozed off again； but I kiss him awake； which seems to startle him。 Then he smiles as if heˇd be happy to lie there gazing at me forever。 Heˇs great at this stuff。
I hold up the pot。 ¨Peeta； look what Haymitch has sent you。〃
20
Getting the broth into Peeta takes an hour of coaxing； begging； threatening； and yes； kissing； but finally； sip by sip； he empties the pot。 I let him drift off to sleep then and attend to my own needs； wolfing down a supper of groosling and roots while I watch the daily report in the sky。 No new casualties。 Still； Peeta and I have given the audience a fairly interesting day。 Hopefully； the Gamemakers will allow us a peaceful night。
I automatically look around for a good tree to nest in before I realize thatˇs over。 At least for a while。 I canˇt very well leave Peeta unguarded on the ground。 I left the scene of his last hiding place on the bank of the stream untouched how could I conceal it？ and weˇre a scant fifty yards downstream。 I put on my glasses； place my weapons in readiness； and settle down to keep watch。
The temperature drops rapidly and soon Iˇm chilled to the bone。 Eventually； I give in and slide into the sleeping bag with Peeta。 Itˇs toasty warm and I snuggle down gratefully until I realize itˇs more than warm； itˇs overly hot because the bag is reflecting back his fever。 I check his forehead and find it burning and dry。 I donˇt know what to do。 Leave him in the bag and hope the excessive heat breaks the fever？ Take him out and hope the night air cools him off？ I end up just dampening a strip of bandage and placing it on his forehead。 It seems weak； but Iˇm afraid to do anything too drastic。
I spend the night half…sitting； half…lying next to Peeta； refreshing the bandage； and trying not to dwell on the fact that by teaming up with him； Iˇve made myself far more vulnerable than when I was alone。 Tethered to the ground； on guard； with a very sick person to take care of。 But I knew he was injured。 And still I came after him。 Iˇm just going to have to trust that whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one。
When the sky turns rosy； I notice the sheen of sweat on Peetaˇs lip and discover the fever has broken。 Heˇs not back to normal； but itˇs e down a few degrees。 Last night； when I was gathering vines； I came upon a bush of Rueˇs berries。 I strip off the fruit and mash it up in the broth pot with cold water。
Peetaˇs struggling to get up when I reach the cave。 ¨I woke up and you were gone；〃 he says。 ¨I was worried about you。〃
I have to laugh as I ease him back down。 ¨You were worried about me？ Have you taken a look at yourself lately？〃
¨I thought Cato and Clove might have found you。 They like to hunt at night；〃 he says； still serious。
¨Clove？ Which one is that？〃 I ask。
¨The girl from District Two。 Sheˇs still alive； right？〃 he says。
¨Yes； thereˇs just them and us and Thresh and Foxface；〃 I say。 ¨Thatˇs what I nicknamed the girl from Five。 How do you feel？〃
¨Better than yesterday。 This is an enormous improvement over the mud；〃 he says。 ¨Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag 。 。 。 and you。〃
Oh； right； the whole romance thing。 I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips。 I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up。 Surely not from his father and the witch。
¨No more kisses for you until youˇve eaten；〃 I say。
We get him propped up against the wall and he obediently swallows the spoonfuls of the berry mush I feed him。 He refuses the groosling again； though。
¨You didnˇt sleep；〃 Peeta says。
¨Iˇm all right；〃 I say。 But the truth is； Iˇm exhausted。
¨Sleep now。 Iˇll keep watch。 Iˇll wake you if anything happens；〃 he says。 I hesitate。 ¨Katniss； you canˇt stay up forever。〃
Heˇs got a point there。 Iˇll have to sleep eventually。 And probably better to do it now when he seems relatively alert and we have daylight on our side。 ¨All right；〃 I say。 ¨But just for a few hours。 Then you wake me。〃
Itˇs too warm for the sleeping bag now。 I smooth it out on the cave floor and lie down； one hand on my loaded bow in case I have to shoot at a momentˇs notice。 Peeta sits beside me； leaning against the wall； his bad leg stretched out before him； his eyes trained on the world outside。 ¨Go to sleep；〃 he says softly。 His hand brushes the loose strands of my hair off my forehead。 Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far； this gesture seems natural and forting。 I donˇt want him to stop and he doesnˇt。 Heˇs still stroking my hair when I fall asleep。
Too long。 I sleep too long。 I know from the moment I open my eyes that weˇre into the afternoon。 Peetaˇs right beside me； his position unchanged。 I sit up； feeling somehow defensive but better rested than Iˇve been in days。
¨Peeta； you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours；〃 I say。
¨For what？ Nothingˇs going on here；〃 he says。 ¨Besides I like watching you sleep。 You donˇt scowl。 Improves your looks a lot。〃
This； of course； brings on a scowl that makes him grin。 Thatˇs when I notice how dry his lips are。 I test his cheek。 Hot as a coal stove。 He claims heˇs been drinking； but the containers still feel full to me。 I give hi