Happy Holidays y'all! So wonderful to be writing again!
The characters of The Hunger Games Trilogy do not belong to me.
We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
We tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how…-Dan Fogelberg
Same Old Lang Syne
"Bro—" Thresh threw the football up from where he laid in bed. "—there's no food around here." Catching it easily, he looked to Peeta who was packing his suitcase. "Is anything open in this town?"
He gave the man an easy smile. "Panem is one of those sleepy towns where everything closes at 6."
Closing the luggage, he checked his phone to see a text from his mother: 'Can we expect you home?' and five missed calls Haymitch, the band's manager—probably making sure that the boys were okay. Peeta was the trustworthy one and, unlike the others, least likely to be out somewhere getting wasted.
"Maybe Finnick or Cato has something for you to munch on?" Peeta suggested.
"Come on man!" Thresh gave him a pout. "I'm the lead singer of the band. I need to be in tip-top shape…"
"That's pathetic, dude." Peeta reached to the floor, grabbing a discarded pair of socks and tossing it toward his bandmate. "But, because it's Christmas Eve, I'm going to go out in this weather and get you some food."
"You're the best, man," Thresh responded before tossing Peeta his wallet. "Food's on me. Just don't forget the Cheetos like last time."
Peeta grabbed his puffer jacket, zipping it up quickly before putting on his trusted beanie. "Once again, you are pathetic."
Thresh chuckled as he opened the hotel room door. "You know you love me!"
"Yeah….yeah…" He saluted his friend. "I'm a little too incapable to love."
Checking to make sure he had everything—phone, Thresh's wallet, motel key—Peeta headed out into the quiet Panem winter.
'Thresh said you were on a food run. Can you bring back some beer?'
Responding in agreement to Finnick's text, Peeta turned the cart with his free hand to get to the liquor aisle.
CLANG!
The sound of metal crashing brought him back from his reverie. He inspected his groceries, making sure that nothing was broken.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!"
The panic in the woman's voice told him that she seemed just as distracted as he was.
"No, no…I wasn't watching where I was going." He watched the dark-haired woman scramble to make sure her own items were intact before looking to him. "Katniss?"
Tucking a stray tendril behind her ear, Katniss Everdeen—his high school girlfriend—gave him that all too brilliant smile. That smile that always made his heart drop to his stomach.
"Peeta," she greeted breathily, her arms wrapping around herself anxiously. "What are you doing in Panem?"
"My band has a performance two cities over," he informed her. "Wow…you haven't changed a bit."
She still carried herself with grace—even in an old overcoat, fitted sweats, and UGG boots.
They met during their senior year of high school. He was a transfer student from an international school; his father Tom worked for the U.S. Embassy and the Mellarks were living in London when he was transferred back to the States.
Katniss had been his student guide, giving him a tour of Panem High and showing him the ins and outs of the school. Peeta was mesmerized by her. Her eyes—a molten grey—made him tongue-tied, a first for someone who considered himself almost too confident for a teenager.
"Thanks…I think." Katniss smiled softly. "You haven't changed, either." Her hand reached to brush some snow from his jacket and his breath caught at the endearing motion. It was so her, that need to take care of others. "Still very much that blue-eyed boy."
She looked a little smaller; a little sadder.
And her eyes, though still very captivating, held something else in them—and he wanted to know what.
"Walk with me?" He was already reaching to put her things in his cart.
Cereal, milk, a can of lamb stew…and Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts—his favorite.
Katniss didn't hesitate. Her smile brightened her olive complexion, making his heart flip in a way that he knew would break him.
"Always."
Her car was a mini-van, a non-distinguishable beige with comfortable seats and cat fur on its dashboard. They settled on having their mini-reunion in the parking lot of the grocery. The store had already closed for the night, its large neon signage already off and the inside dark.
"Prim's cat," Katniss informed him as she handed him a can of beer from the grocery bags in the backseat. Quickly, she swiped along the messy dashboard. "The damn thing sheds everywhere and Prim couldn't bring Buttercup with her when she moved so I was stuck with it until my neighbors took him."
"How is Prim?" he asked.
"She's in San Diego." Katniss opened a can of her own and took a long sip. "Joined the Army right out of high school."
"Prim?" He recalled Katniss' golden-haired sister; a petite, skinny ball of energy. "Didn't see that one coming."
"After Mom and Dad died, we put what was left of their money into paying off the house," she said wryly. "There was no money left over for college and the Army was offering her a chance to get medical training and travel. She's a Head Nurse now."
Peeta could tell that Katniss was worried by the way she wrung her hands. He recalled the many times during their senior year when Katniss would have panic attacks over exams and he'd watch the motion over and over while she pored over textbooks.
Usually he could calm her by taking her hands in his and giving them a solid squeeze.
"Prim's going to be fine," Peeta told her. "And, what about you? What school did you end up at?"
Katniss finished off her beer before responding, "None of them."
"What?" He whipped around in his seat to meet her eyes. "You were the smartest girl in our class—the valedictorian…voted 'Most Likely to Succeed'!"
"After you left, Mom and Dad got in the accident." She looked out into the empty parking lot. "I just kind of froze, you know? I couldn't concentrate and then other stuff happened."
"Like what?"
"I got married."
Peeta took a long gulp from his can. "Oh."
"And divorced."
"Oh." He couldn't help himself. "Who was it?"
"Gale Hawthorne." Peeta blanched and Katniss let out a loud laugh at his expression. "Tell me how you really feel, Mellark!"
"Oh you know how much I loved him," he retorted with a roll of his eyes. "How did he weasel his way up in there?"
"You weren't here—" The hand wringing began again. "—and I was lonely."
Peeta took her hands in his, squeezing them firmly like he used to do. "I'm here now."
She stared down at their joined hands. "For how long?"
He couldn't answer.
"I kept tabs on you." Katniss handed him the open bag of potato chips that was supposed to be for Thresh. "You seem to be doing well."
"I enjoy what I do." Peeta dug into the potato chips but not before glancing at Thresh's fifth 'Where are you?' text on his phone. "I love our fans, but sometimes the traveling sucks."
"I have your first album." Her face flushed at her admittance. "I listened to it all the time. It was just so you! I mean, Thresh is singing but it's your words that are coming out. It's just that I know your writing so well."
"What's your favorite song?" he asked in curiosity.
"'She Never Knew'."
His question came out with a hoarse squeak at the end. "Why?"
Peeta had written the song when he was knee-deep in heartache for the very woman that sat next to him. They had ended things knowing that their relationship wasn't going to last. Peeta was going to an art school in San Francisco and she was destined to attend one of the many Ivy League schools on the East Coast that were begging for her attendance.
"Because it's about me!" Katniss was buzzed as she began to sing in that low melodic tone that he would fall asleep to…after. "She has no idea. The effect she can have..."
Peeta groaned. "You know me too well!"
"After all these years." She beamed at the thought, her expression falling slightly. "God, I was so in love with you."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"What use would it have been?" Katniss looked to him and he ached to see that her eyes were watering. "We were heading in different directions. It was better to end it the way we did—with a bang."
Peeta snorted. "Literally."
She clanked her beer can against the one in his hand. "Here, here."
Instead of taking a taxi back to the motel, Katniss insisted on driving him. She parked in an empty space close to his room and quickly turned off the engine so the noisiness of the old van wouldn't wake the occupants.
They sat in silence, both sharing a singular thought.
He didn't want to leave and neither did she.
"What are we doing?" she asked, almost of herself.
"I don't know." Peeta took her hands. "But to me, it's like we were never apart. And, I don't know you—the you now—but I know that your hands still tremble when you're nervous. That your voice is still as beautiful as it sounds when I dream about you. That I've been an empty shell…and you've brought me back to life in just a few hours. That has to mean something."
Katniss blinked, not bothering to wipe away her tears. "Or it doesn't have to mean anything, Peeta."
Peeta could hear the goodbye in her voice.
It was almost too much to take.
"I guess I was wrong," Peeta grounded out slowly. "I'll go." He opened her passenger door, willing himself out and onto the wet concrete before turning to her drawn face. "Merry Christmas."
Closing the door, Peeta turned before he did something stupid—like cry or ask her to marry him.
"Wait!"
Then Katniss was in front of him, breathing heavily into the cold air. She stilled, staring at him for a moment before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth to his.
She still kissed the same—with purpose.
His arms wrapped around her slim waist pressing forward and putting everything he had into this moment, as if to anchor her to him.
Always.
They finally pulled apart, opening their eyes to the reality that they lived in—that, eventually, Peeta would have to walk back into his motel room and resume his life with the band that he thought his life was devoted to.
And she…
Katniss would go back to her home—with her single can of lamb stew and the Pop-Tarts that they should be eating together as they celebrated Christmas.
Her hand reached to cup his cheek and his eyes closed, falling so easily into her touch.
"Your mouth quirks to the left when you're anxious, you hate artichokes, and you sleep with your windows open—even in the winter. And you hope more than anyone I've ever met. I know you. More than you know."
He couldn't help but smile. "Anything else?"
"You know this isn't the end," she told him, giving him that smile as she pulled away. "Merry Christmas, Peeta."
"Will you turn off that light?" Thresh groaned, his head rising from his pillow. "I mean, how can you still be awake? You've been playing that riff for almost an hour."
Peeta put down the guitar and looked to his friend. "Just give me a little more time. I can't get these words out of my head."
"Alright," his friend relented before laying back down. "You must have one hell of a muse."
Peeta smiled to himself. "You have no idea."
The song would be done by morning.
And, he knew exactly who should hear it first.
Katniss Everdeen's address was unsurprisingly easy to find.
"Merry Christmas, Katniss," Rue, her neighbor, said as she gathered her things from the worn couch. "Everything was quiet."
"Thanks Rue." Katniss toed off her boots before reaching into her bag and handing the young girl the can. "For your grandmother. I know how much she loves this stew."
"Awesome!" Rue gave Katniss a quick hug before walking out the door and across the hall to her own apartment.
Removing the rest of her outerwear, Katniss turned off the television that Rue had been snoozing in front of before heading to the back of the apartment quietly. She knew she had groceries to put away but there was something that she needed to do first.
Going to the door, she turned the knob slowly before slipping inside.
The nightlight was already on, illuminating the lone figure asleep in the bed, his golden locks reflecting in the soft light.
After closing the window, Katniss sat by his side, her hand running along his unruly hair.
There was a shift on the mattress and she was greeted with those round, cerulean eyes.
She never told Peeta the reason Gale left.
Besides both being way too young, Gale could not stand to see this miniature version of her former boyfriend no matter how much he insisted that he loved her enough to stay.
A little after Owen turned two, Gale went out one night and never came back. The divorce papers were in her mailbox two weeks later.
Her sister had been furious at her ex-husband, but she had taken it with a calm acceptance. In the end, Katniss knew that they weren't meant for one another, her heart had been long gone before their marriage.
There were so many moments when Katniss had thought of picking up the phone and calling Peeta to tell him. However, when she heard his debut album and their son kicked in her belly for the first time, it had assured her that it was the right decision to let him go.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
"Mommy," the soft voice of her son called her from her thoughts. "Did you get my Pop-Tarts?"
She smiled. "Of course, I know that they're your favorite."
He nodded, his eyes fluttering as he fell back asleep. "Merry Christmas, Mommy."
Katniss leaned down, kissing her son's forehead.
"Merry Christmas, baby."
FIN
"Same Old Lang Syne" is a favorite holiday song of Hubbs and I. Such a bittersweet holiday song, right? If you haven't heard it, I suggest you check it out. I believe that it was based on an actual meeting that Dan Fogelberg had with a former girlfriend.
It's been a long while since I've written anything but I really enjoyed getting back into the writing game.
And, if you haven't heard, the reason that I've been MIA is because I had a baby! She was born early and was in the NICU for a month and a half, but is now home for Christmas which is the best present ever.
So, if you notice a lag in updates to my stories, just keep in mind that it's because I'm currently changing diapers and making bottles.
Happy Holidays everyone!
-LaLa, Hubbs, and Baby J