Sometimes Matt wonders how different his life would be if his father had survived at least through his childhood; he wonders how different he would be. He likes to think the same thing about his father. He would be able to see through the walls that Katniss puts up, and that he'd like her. He'd probably give him a speech about how young she is, about how Matt needs to take care of her because of that, don't break her heart. These are all things that Matt has told himself, things that he'd sometimes heard in his father's voice. He's very glad that she's got no intention of leaving, though if she wanted her own place, wanted to assert her independence, he would understand. He would simply hope that they could continue dating while she did that.

He'd like to hear that. He does worry that she'll want to explore and discover who she is on her own. He worries that she'll regret that she never experienced some things like moving into her own place. Opportunity is the biggest thing that Matt has wanted to give her. She doesn't yet realize that she should have all of this and more, that she would have if the Games hadn't taken it away from her, if her life had been kinder.

He runs his fingers idly and tenderly through her hair, also a movement designed to soothe, but also to make her feel loved. He can't help but smile when she wriggles up against him, draping herself over him. He's exhausted and sated as well, though it may take him a little while to fall asleep simply because he doesn't often sleep well. He suspects that might change though. He shakes his head at her words. "Trust me. That's not going to be a problem."