I remember that first day of school. How my brothers spilled out of the car in a flurry of feet and backpacks. Then there was the excitement in their voices as they yelled to friends that disappeared through glass doors that seemed to reach the sky.
Those doors held a universe vast and intimidating behind them.
My jeans were just a little too long and I sat with sweaty palms in my seat staring out the window seeing worlds amongst the clouds that filled the sky. My hair was neat and parted and my lunchbox bright and emboldened with the face of my favorite super hero. My fingers were slick holding its handle but I knew not to lose it. It was the only thing I owned that had never belonged to one of my brothers and I understood that made it special.
My father's voice was soft as he opened my door meeting my nervous gaze with a smile. "Time to go buddy. The bell will ring soon."
My fingers clenched around his and I could see flour caked in his nails. I wanted more than anything to not let go and beg him to take me home. Then I could spend the day watching him make cookies and lose myself in the rainbow of frosting he used to paint them.
Grass was growing through the cracks of the sidewalk as he walked me slowly towards the doors. I watched my worn sneakers scuff with every step until with a sigh he squatted next to me and tried to lift my chin. It wobbled beneath his fingers as I fought not to cry looking off to the side because I wanted to be brave.
That's when I saw her for the first time. She was small, skinny, and dark where I was fair but her smile looked like sunlight itself. Her hair fell over her tiny shoulders in two long braids and her laughter seemed to carry across the wind to my ears. For some reason the sound made me smile.
With a quick squeeze of my fingers I looked up into my father's eyes and found him grinning back at me. "She's a pretty little thing isn't she? I knew her mother when I was your age. You should hear her father sing."
It seemed odd to think of the tall dark man that twirled the girl in circles singing. But when my father told me even the birds would pause in envy I decided to believe him. When on a giddy sigh she stopped spinning with her arms stretched wide and met my eyes I decided I needed to know if she sang like a bird as well.
With a deep breath I shrugged my backpack higher on my shoulders and turned without a word or look back and followed her into school.
That afternoon she climbed atop her chair and her voice rang like the chime of bells. It was sweet and clear and as ethereal as the mythical creatures that lure sailors into the sea. I couldn't look away.
There is no way the birds fell silent in envy. They simply listened in awe. Because she was more magnificent than anything winged, and feathered in the sky. For the second half of the song her eyes round and soulful and full of storms looked at me.
From that day I watched Katniss Everdeen. How could I not?
By the time we were eight she ran faster than everyone in our class. Her feet would fly above the grass and her laughter would linger behind her. While the rest of the boys scowled and grunted and were determined to catch her I was rendered useless the second that happy sound left her mouth. I found myself stopping completely just watching her dark hair fly behind her back with my cheeks hurting from the grin that graced my face.
When she turned around and caught me staring I forgot to stop smiling.
My heart raced when she looked down because I could tell she was smiling back.
When were ten she liked apples at lunch and kept shyly to herself and only a few other friends. I liked the way she tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her tiny feet beneath her desk. She would stare out the window sometimes with a smile that seemed dreamlike and I would sketch rough pictures on the outskirts of my worksheets trying to imagine what it was she saw inside her head.
With my tongued tucked between my teeth I agonized over the strands of hair that had escaped her braid and the exact number of freckles that crossed the bridge of her nose and never heard my teacher call on me. Instead I startled from my own mind to look into the gray eyes above those freckles. I found that they were wide and curious before being blocked by my teacher's body telling me that daydreaming wasn't productive.
She changed that next year.
She missed weeks of school and the hum in the halls grew to whispers and the whispers to words and I learned that her father had died.
When she came back her quiet smiles changed to scowls and daydreams seemed to be something she no longer believed in.
Other children pulled away but I found myself drawn to her and at a complete loss of what I could ever offer this beautiful hurting girl.
I left cookies in her cubby because the rise of bone above the collars of the thin sweaters she wore to school made my stomach ache. She would only take one for herself and only when no one else was in the room. Then she would take a deep breath before pushing it into her mouth the butter and frosting breaking apart beneath her teeth and the crumbs clinging to her lips while tears brimmed in her eyes.
The day she turned twelve she laughed to find a cupcake frosted in rich chocolate. I sighed as she licked the sugar from her fingers and her head whipped around. I was certain she caught me.
I could never say for sure because like the flushed cheeked coward I was I sprinted down the hall unable to keep the smile from my face. The first time she'd laughed in a year and it was because of me.
At fourteen everyone seemed to stretch and grow. My shoulders felt too wide and my arms too long.
Katniss was no taller but her shape beneath her worn dresses and her father's leather jacket in the fall were new. The subtle curves of her chest and the soft rounding of her hips made my palms sweat when she'd enter the classroom most mornings. With a thick tongue I would swallow and look down as soon as she passed but I am certain she caught me staring more than once.
I started thinking things I shouldn't and seemed to lack control of where my mind would take me once the days would end.
I'd picture the weight of her braid in my hands and pushing it off her shoulder to place my lips there. I'd imagine her skin tasting like salt and sweat and that my name leaving her lips would linger sweet as my mouth would finally find hers.
Soon the pictures in my head began to take on a new urgency filled with vibrant colors and heady sounds.
One afternoon I walked in on my brother between the legs of a merchant girl and slammed the door mumbling apologies to the sounds of his laughter. But that night I couldn't get the picture of her bare limbs and naked breasts out of my head.
As I tossed and turned in the night my mattress groaned. Behind my eyelids I saw Katniss on my sheets with her hair down and tangled on my pillow. Her thighs fragile and dark were parted and bent around my waist. With a few thrusts into my palm and a groan into my blanket I came picturing looking into those silver eyes as she lay beneath me.
That next morning was the first time I couldn't bring myself to look at her. With a neck and face flushed scarlet I simply kept my head down horrified to find that I was getting hard again and convinced she somehow knew I'd spent my night picturing her naked.
I knew all about hormones. I suffered through the same health course as everyone else so I understood why this was happening.
By the time I was sixteen I even for the most part seemed to be entirely in control of what happened in my pants.
It was still possible however to be blindsided by bouts of stupidity.
Which I guess I why I ended up standing outside the school building as rain fell in sheets from the sky using my body as a human shield in front of Katniss while Cato Stevens lashed at her with words sharper than any blade.
I didn't even think really. My fingers curled and rain dripped from my lips and before another insult could roll from his tongue I hit him. His face seemed to bounce from my fist. It surprised me enough to laugh and the sound made me look invincible.
Blood was clinging to his mouth and ran pink with rain down his chin as he stood up and stepped closer.
He swung and I ducked and didn't hesitate to tackle him to the ground. A splash of water and mud soaked my pants as I caught him with a lucky hit to the jaw.
Ironically it would seem the hormonal stupidity that led me to start this fight is what ended it for me. I glanced up through rain that I blinked from my eyelashes and met the gaze of Katniss. Her eyes were wide and shocked. The faded blue dress she wore clung to her curves and raindrops to her mouth and all I could think was fuck she's pretty.
About the same time this thought crossed my mind Cato right crossed his fist into my face knocking me sideways. This was followed by a second punch to my chin which landed me on my back.
At that point with one eye swiftly swelling shut and my own blood in my mouth I decided that perhaps death would be preferable to actual movement.
The decision was made for me however when Katniss stood over me, her face blocking the view of the tormented sky. That scowl I loved so much made her mouth purse and her eyebrows bunch and even soaked to the skin she was gorgeous.
She held her hand out and with a rough tug had me on my uncertain feet. The world tilted a little and I braced my hand on the brick side of the building. I blinked water from my eyes and stared stupidly at her small dark fingers twisted with mine.
I was holding her hand. It made me grin for one dizzy second and that just made her look at me like I was certifiable.
My fingers twitched in hers and I looked up unable for the life of me to stop smiling.
She just rolled her eyes and tugged me along behind her. We walked four blocks in the rain and I never even thought to ask where we were going. I honestly didn't fucking care because Katniss Everdeen was looking at me and still holding my hand.
When she stopped I looked up to see a small house with dark windows and peeling paint. She dug keys from her backpack and shouldered her way across the entranceway gesturing for me to follow her with her head.
Once inside I took in the living room. It was warm and clean with a faded throw on the sofa and pictures on the mantle of the fireplace. A face I knew well with two dark braids grinned from a side table.
Her bag hitting the floor made me jump and when I spun around she was kicking her feet from her boots.
She pulled the elastic from the end of her hair and began to run her fingers through the wet strands. Seeing her dark hair down and over her shoulder made yearning come to life thick and insistent in my belly. I wondered what it felt like.
"Take your clothes off."
My eyes left her braid as my head whipped up so fast I nearly lost my balance. "W-what?"
A blush seemed to burn its way to her cheeks when flustered she shook her head. "I mean to dry them. I can throw them in the dryer if you want."
With that she tossed a blanket to me and mumbled that she was going to change before jogging up the stairs.
I was left trying to think of anything but the numerous fantasies and scenarios in my head settling on the thought that she was really beautiful when she blushed.
With my clothes a puddled wet pile at my feet I wrapped the faded quilt around my waist covering my navy boxer shorts and nervously pushed the hair off my face.
She moved like a ghost so I didn't hear her come back down.
When she cleared her throat my eyes immediately met hers. She was blushing again and something about the way she looked at my chest and arms made me feel warm.
With a nervous swallow and sweaty pass of my palms on the blanket that was now my kilt I looked at what she had changed into.
She had on a loose t-shirt with the logo of an eighties band peeling near the edges and sweat pants about three sizes too big that were rolled at her hipbones. The skin exposed there was dusky and smooth where her shirt was hiked up on the side.
She grabbed my wet clothes disappearing around the corner giving me a moment to take a deep breath. I was half naked and in her house and at some point I was going to have to figure out how to actually form words.
Words were supposed to be my thing.
When she came back I was fascinated with the dark wet marks left behind by her wet hair on her shoulder and against the fragile bones above the collar of her shirt. Her face was bare and her freckles were dark over her cheeks and nose. Her lips were so pink I found myself staring at them and wanted to groan softly when he tongue wet and warm passed over them.
She walked us into the kitchen and the worn linoleum was cold beneath my bare feet. A bowl of apples sat on the counter and cups and bowls were set out to dry next to the sink.
With a firm push of my shoulder she backed me against the cabinets and set a washcloth and a first aid kit within reach.
I was opening my mouth to ask her why she was doing this when she beat me to it.
Without preamble she wiped the wet cloth over my eyes, and my cheek, my lip…with each swipe her brow furrowed deeper until she paused and those smoky eyes met mine.
"Why?"
I licked my lips. "Why what?"
Her exhale through her nose was hot into my cheek and I still couldn't believe she was this close. "Why did you fight him Peeta?"
I searched her face and my mind for some kind of explanation. Coming up with nothing I just shrugged.
Frustrated her scowl deepened when she asked. "Why would you fight him? Everyone says that to me. It's not a big deal."
She didn't meet my eyes as she pressed the cloth gently to my swollen cheek. With her this close I could see a small ring of gold around the gray of irises and that her eyelashes were like dark wings brushing her cheeks every time she blinked.
When they finally fluttered up and she looked at me a rush of air left my lungs with whispered words. "It is to me."
She wiped at my face one last time before setting the cloth to the side.
Shaking her head she touched my eye, then my cheek, her fingers lingered there and it made my heart race as she said softly. "Another black eye. Another bruise. Peeta please don't get them for me."
She brought her hand down to the corner of my mouth where a small cut stung beneath her touch. Her big eyes looked conflicted and concerned as my breath shuddered past my lips to ghost over her fingers.
Finally with a voice rough and shaking I whispered. "You're worth it."
Now it was confusion that clouded those beautiful eyes.
Her hand was still by my mouth and I wanted to turn my face and press a kiss to her wrist. I wanted to feel her heartbeat against my lips.
Looking between my eyes she asked. "I see you look at me. God since we were kids you've been looking at me. Why Peeta?"
The question hung between us. Two kids with wet hair and years of silence that was now broken. She was so close I could taste the words as they left her lips. They tasted sweet and terrifying on my tongue because how do you find the way to tell a girl that simply seeing her makes your days better?
Licking my lips I searched her face for a moment and watched her hand as it lifted, her nails brushing my scalp softly as she pushed my damp hair off my face.
It felt so good.
My eyes fell closed and with a deep breath I whispered. "Because I can't look away."
Her hand paused.
I looked at her and smiled from beneath my lashes shyly, "Because looking away from you would be impossible and my days are better when I see you. Because you are brave and beautiful and because you deserve so much more than you have ever been given Katniss."
She didn't move at first. Her eyes blinked and she opened her mouth to say something but stopped. She worried her lip with her teeth and took several deep breaths and then with a small shake of her head she looked away and my stomach dropped.
Working quickly she pressed antiseptic to the cut by my mouth which made me hiss and then she placed a small bandage above my eye. I desperately searched her face trying to figure out how badly I fucked this up as she pressed it to my skin.
Once she was done she closed the first aid kit on the counter and tossed the rag into the sink but didn't move from in front of me. The small hairs near her neck were starting to dry and some of them curled near her ear. My fingers gripping the blanket at my waist were starting to ache I was clenching them so tight.
Figuring I had more than screwed this up I opened my mouth to apologize for being creepy as fuck but the words died on my tongue when with a determined set to her mouth she leaned forward so fast my back hit the cabinet behind me and her lips touched my cheek.
I gaped at her as I looked down to where her small hands were braced for balance on my chest. Her hair had fallen like a black curtain around her face. Hot air left her nose against my jaw but she didn't pull away just back and just enough so that I could meet her eyes.
She leaned forward again this time slowly to brush her lips to my chin.
I sighed as she kissed above my nose and above my cheek. She brushed her lips to my swollen eye so softly they were merely a whisper over the purple skin.
My chest was rising beneath her palms at a desperate rate because she smelled like rain and her lips were soft and I couldn't believe she was kissing me. Her lips pursed along my jaw and my legs began to shake when they met the cut at the corner of my mouth.
I moved my lips when she kissed me there trying to follow the small movement. Smiling she turned her face enough that our eyes could meet and with her breath warm in my mouth she finally pressed her lips to mine.
They were dry and warm and the sounds that left the back of my throat felt like relief. I wrapped my arm around her and splayed my fingers across the warm skin at the slope of her back and kissed her back softly. I took her bottom lip between mine, then the top. She tasted like lip balm and her skin felt like silk against my nose. So I kissed her harder and my fingers wrapped themselves into the cotton of her shirt as my tongue traced the seam at corner of her lips. When they opened and her tongue met mine I moaned out loud.
Our mouths made slick wet noises as they came together again and again and the small sounds that Katniss sighed into my mouth as her hands dug into my hair were the best things I have ever heard in my entire life.
When the need to breathe meant us finally pulling apart we stood still locked together and panting as our eyes met shyly.
Her pupils were fat, her cheeks flushed, and her lips pink and wet and my god she looked gorgeous.
With a deep breath I smiled. The cut by my mouth protested and cracked but when her lips began to lift as well my smile just grew. "Hi."
A snort of laughter left her nose and she looked mortified but I just thought it was adorable as she whispered back. "Hi."
My cheeks were actually hurting by this point and the more I grinned at her the more embarrassed she became.
"Stop it!"
"Yeah that would be impossible at this point."
Narrowing her eyes she asked. "Why?"
Looking up at the ceiling I said. "Katniss Everdeen kissed me."
Dropping her head to my shoulder she groaned. "Oh god. Please stop."
"Nope. I will be reliving this in my head every day for the rest of my life so… sorry can't do it. By the way do you do this often? Drag guys home and tell them to take off their clothes before attacking them against kitchen cabinets?"
The look she gave me was not pleased. "I'm kidding! I'm just starting to think this is all some elaborate dream and one of my brothers is going to wake me up or something. It feels real but…I mean Katniss you have no idea."
My voice fell away and the uncertainty in it was unmistakable.
She leaned back into me and looked me in the eye. "It felt real to me too."
My heart was doing cardiac back flips at this point as I smiled at her. "I am so fucking glad Cato punched me in the face."
Shaking her head she brushed her fingers to my cheek. "You are such an idiot."
"Oh definitely. Also if memory serves I might have admitted to spending years staring at you so my question is what the heck are you doing here? Or is this about how I look wearing nothing but this blanket?"
I lifted one eyebrow and made a dramatic sweeping gesture with my hand from my chest down my stomach.
Her cheeks flushed and right there I decided making Katniss Everdeen blush might be another one of my favorite things.
When she finally spoke her face was still looking towards the floor and her voice was impossibly soft. "Cupcakes."
She looked up at me disbelief in every word, "You made me a cupcake once. Chocolate. That was the worst year of my entire life but you made me a cupcake and it was the best thing I have ever eaten. And for just that second I felt like everything could be okay again."
Her eyes looked between mine and my chest ached and I couldn't help it as I leaned forward and kissed her softly.
Wiping a tear from her eyes she laughed softly. "I also liked the cookies."
With a dramatic groan I leaned my head against hers. "I can make you so many cookies Katniss. Every single day I can make you cookies."
She nodded. "Good."
"You know. Since I'll be around baking for you all the time you can feel free to kiss me anytime you want."
Leaning onto her toes she did just that and said to me. "Well then I guess you can keep looking at me."
Like I could ever look away.