Katniss has never been very good at going along with suggestions given to her by others, even if those suggestions might prove to be life-saving. The desire to dance, and more specifically to dance with Derek, is entirely her own. The song she picks is silly and a little more bawdy than something she might otherwise sing but it has the right tempo for the dance.

Or it did.

She stops singing as soon as he draws her in closer. She just about stops dancing all together as well, her steps much slower and lacking the easy rhythm from before. He's close. He's very close. She can feel the heat of his hand against her back and she knows how easy it would be to move in just a step more and press her body against his. This morning's strangeness aside, this is the closest that she's been to another human being in a long time - specifically one she knows and sort of likes. It throws her off guard. And when she looks up at him, the puppy eyes are long gone. In there place is a mix of confusion and curiosity and a need to be held by someone to send all the nightmares away.

Because that's what she's remembering right now. She's remembering how being held kept the nightmares at bay and how much she likes this. She likes the way Derek holds her now. Katniss smiles, moving her hand up his shoulder. She lets him lead; the steps are easy to pick up and follow in time.

"You can dance," she points out, a hint of cheekiness in her voice. "You're not that bad, either."