This was my submission for the THG Holiday Fic Exchange this past December 2013. The prompt was "Katniss and Peeta's first Christmas after the rebellion". Decided to turn it into a generic winter holiday season. Enjoy!
I do not own The Hunger Games.
Dear Katniss,
I'm yours.
Love, Peeta
We're coming on nine months since Peeta came home to District 12, and six months since our first night together. Six months since I told him "real" to answer the question that's haunted him since his hijacking. Six months since he moved in and never left.
I am so in love with him.
So in love with him.
The notes started a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes they're simple and straightforward. Sometimes they're more meaningful:
Dear Peeta,
With you, breathing is easier, and I actually want to keep doing it.
Yours, Katniss
Sometimes, it's a memory:
Dear Peeta,
One day at school, long before you threw me the bread, I saw you give your cookie to a younger Seam boy who looked hungry. You had such a good heart, even then.
Katniss
Other times, it's just silly:
Dear Katniss,
Some mornings I wake up choking on your hair.
Peeta
It all started after we invited Delly and Thom over for dinner. They had only been together a few weeks, but it turns out they had already been friendly back when we were in school – Thom was ahead of us by two years, but Delly was his tutor for a special math course. They told us they used to write notes to each other instead of talking, both nervous about the Merchant/Seam divide that separated them. And when Thom finished school and went off to the mines, they decided their time together, however wonderful and innocent, was best left in the past.
And now they're together again. It's funny how things work out.
As Peeta and I lay in bed that night, I asked him why he never approached me when we were in school. He chuckled loudly, saying nothing, but instead gave me a look that spoke volumes. I smiled and rolled my eyes.
"Okay then, if you could go back in time and write me something, what would you write?"
He took a deep breath and was quiet for a few moments.
"I'll have to think about that."
The next morning progressed as usual, until I came home after hunting to find a folded piece of paper on the kitchen table.
Dear Katniss,
Your hair is pretty, and you sing pretty, too.
Peeta
I grinned so hard that my cheeks hurt. The words themselves didn't surprise me; all of Panem knew about that first time he saw me and heard me sing. But seeing it written on paper, on something tangible, on something I could hold and keep for myself – it meant the world to me.
It's no secret that Peeta and I didn't get to experience a "normal" courtship. As the "Star-Crossed Lovers of District 12", we were automatically thrown into the deep end, skipping the part of actually getting to know each other. We didn't pass notes or hold hands in school. We didn't experience the relief of surviving our last reaping and celebrating by getting drunk and kissing at the slag heap.
It never bothered me – it still doesn't, really. We were handed this fate, and while I regret many things, I'll never regret ultimately deciding to be with Peeta. I'll never regret choosing to love him and spend my life with him. But after reading his note, there was something so appealing about trying to go back and reclaim a past where we could've gotten to know each other and fall in love on our own terms.
And so, we began writing.
Dear Peeta,
Truth be told, I watched one of your wrestling matches. Or maybe two. Or three.
Love, Katniss
Dear Katniss,
I knew you were there…but thank you for telling me.
Yours, Peeta
Dear Katniss,
In history class, you sat by the window and stared outside. I always wondered what you were thinking about.
Peeta
Dear Peeta,
I was thinking about my father. And our lake, and picnics, and swimming. Each and every time.
Katniss
Dear Peeta,
Real.
Real, real, real, so real that sometimes it hurts. Stay with me…
Your Katniss
Dear Katniss,
I'll say this now, and whenever you need me to, and I hope you'll believe me each and every time I say it.
Always.
Always, always, always.
I love you.
Peeta
I keep that one in the pocket of my hunting jacket.
This morning's note was peculiar:
Dear Katniss,
Will you do me the honor of attending the Winter Ball with me tonight?
Peeta
Winter Ball? I remember there being a Winter Ball at school, a dance that I never once attended, but surely he's not expecting us to go to the school tonight? Is he?
I know how busy he is at the bakery these days so I decide not to call and ask. Peeta knows me well enough to know that I wouldn't feel comfortable surrounded by a large group of people, so I don't dwell on the note too much longer. He's probably just being playful.
I reside on the fact that Peeta is being silly and start preparing lunch when the phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Katniss? Oh thank goodness you're home!" Delly exclaims.
"Delly, is everything okay?" I reply nervously. Her tone concerns me.
"Yes. Well, no. Katniss, do you think you could come over? I really need someone to talk to."
I contemplate this for a moment. Delly and I have never been alone together. I consider her a friend, certainly, but if she needs to "talk" to someone, well…I might not be the right person.
But I can't very well say no.
"Um, sure, I'll be there soon."
When I arrive at her house, she seems…fine. Perfectly fine: cheerful smile, not one hair out of place.
Something's going on.
"Delly, what's going on?" I ask her.
She laughs nervously and starts twirling her hair around her finger. "Okay, Katniss, promise me you won't be angry."
I don't say a thing. I don't even blink. I just stare at her.
"Um, okay, well, Peeta needed you out of the house so he could set it up and I didn't know any other way to get you over here so I pretended I needed someone to talk to," she says quickly.
I still don't say anything. But Delly is beaming.
"Set it up? Set it up for what?"
Delly laughs. "Why, the Winter Ball, of course!" She runs out of the room with a giggle and comes back with a dress – a deep green, long-sleeved, velvet dress, with orange stitching around the neckline, the waist, and the hem.
It's beautiful.
"I can't…where…where did he get this?" I mumble, touching the soft fabric. "If this is from the Capitol, or something of Cinna's, I can't-"
"No, no, don't worry Katniss, it's nothing like that. Thom's mother made this – she works with the seamstress now. Peeta did order the material from the Capitol, but it was sewn right here in District 12."
Her words put me at ease, but I'm still confused and, frankly, annoyed that she lied to me. "Delly, I still don't understand…" I stammer, looking around for a place to sit. She points to the couch and I sit, staring at the dress in her hands.
"Honestly Katniss, Peeta didn't say much," she says, sitting down next to me. "All he said was that he wanted to do something special just for the two of you, and asked if I could get you out of the house for a few hours this afternoon."
I don't believe her. "That's it?" I ask. "That's really all you know?"
She smiles genuinely. "I swear, that's all I know. He said he wanted to make a Winter Ball. For you. And, probably for himself, too." she adds.
"What do you mean?" I ask. "Didn't Peeta go to any of the Winter Balls while we were in school?"
Delly's face softens into a sad smile. "No, actually, Peeta was never able to go – his mother always made him work those nights since the bakery was always so busy with holiday orders."
I sit back onto the couch with a deep sigh and take the dress from Delly's hands. "He really wants to do this? And it'll only be the two of us?"
She reaches for my hand and gives it a small squeeze. "Yes and yes. But he also asked me to tell you something."
"What's that?" I ask.
"'Only if you'll allow it,'" she recites.
With that, my heart breaks. Peeta, my boy with the bread, still putting my happiness ahead of his. How can I deny him something so simple as a Winter Ball in our own home?
I give Delly a small smile. "Tell him…tell him I'll allow it".
I stay with Delly until the sun goes down. She helps me put on the dress and unravels my braid to let the soft waves down. I say no to any make-up, but I allow her to pull some hair off to the side and secure it with a golden clip.
"Peeta got you shoes to go with the dress, but he said it would be up to you if you wanted to wear them," Delly says with a grin. "He said you'd look beautiful in your boots, too."
A laugh bubbles out of me, but I'm silenced when Delly presents me with the shoes. They're simple orange ballet flats that match the stitching on my dress. I take them without hesitation and put them on. Just like the dress, they're a perfect fit.
I walk over to the mirror on Delly's bedroom door and take a long look. I have to admit, I look very pretty. And as I stare at myself, I begin to feel something I haven't felt in a very long time.
I feel young.
For the first time in ages, I feel my age. Gone is the eleven year old girl responsible for feeding her family. Gone is the Tribute from District 12 who survived two Hunger Games. Gone is the Mockingjay who fought in a rebellion and witnessed the evils of war.
All I see in front of me is a youthful, eighteen year old girl.
A girl in love.
My thoughts are interrupted by Delly's squeals. "Katniss, you look gorgeous!"
I blush and give her a shy smile. "Thanks, Delly. And thank you for helping us with all of this."
She takes my hand and squeezes it. "Of course, Katniss. After everything you've both done…it's the least I could do."
We stand there for a moment, both unsure of what to say or do next, until Delly finally clears her throat. "Well, what are we doing just standing here? Let's get you to the ball!"
As I enter the Victor's Village, I begin to feel nervous…which is ridiculous, of course. This isn't the Capitol or a stop on the Victory Tour. It's just me and Peeta.
Still, as I tuck my bag of clothes and my boots under the porch swing, I feel the butterflies in my stomach start to flutter, and I have to sit down. I lean back on the swing and realize that I can see inside the house through a crack in the curtains.
It's a winter wonderland.
There are snowflakes hanging from the ceiling and about a million lights strung from wall to wall. I see a small table set for two, complete with candles and two glasses of wine.
And I see Peeta. My Peeta.
He's standing in the middle of the room fiddling with his tie. He looks completely flustered, probably since he's never had to tie one himself. Watching him makes me smile, and I realize he must be nervous, too.
I laugh and shake my head. Imagine us, two victors who survived the impossible, both nervous about a little dinner and dancing.
Finding my resolve, I get up and stand in front of the door. I can open it myself – it's never locked – but I decide to give Peeta the chance to collect himself so I knock instead. I hear him approach the door and I hold my breath. When he opens it, I can't help but smile in response to the goofy grin on his face.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi," he returns, gesturing for me to come in. He helps me take off my jacket and I turn around to face him.
"You're stunning," he says.
I blush. "Thank you. It's a beautiful dress, Peeta."
He takes my hand, kisses it, and leans down to kiss my cheek. "Only because you're wearing it."
I shove him away playfully and we both laugh. "So," I begin, raising my hand to touch the paper snowflakes, "You were busy today."
"Just a little," he says with a wink. "What do you think?"
This time I take his hand and pull him towards me, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
"It's perfect."
Dinner is lovely and delicious, as I expected it would be. Truthfully, I was worried that it would be awkward, since I feel the need to be especially interesting tonight, but as usual, Peeta's words put me at ease.
"Katniss, it's just me."
After that, the conversation flies freely, along with the occasional fit of laughter at Haymitch's expense. We talk about our days, our hopes for the new year, the people we miss the most…We both grow quiet for a moment as we reflect on how much has changed in the past year. Then the soft music that had been playing stops, and the first chords of a familiar song begins. Peeta rises, smiles, and holds out his hand.
"Katniss, will you dance with me?"
I nod and take his hand, standing up and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I've heard this song before – I remember the lyrics being beautiful, but it's only now, looking into Peeta's eyes, that they hit me right at my core.
And all my walls stood tall painted blue, and I'll take 'em down, take 'em down, and open up the door for you…
And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies, the beautiful kind, making up for lost time, taking flight, make me feel like…
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just want know you, know you, know you…
'Cause all I know is we said hello, and your eyes look like coming home
All I know is a simple thing, everything has changed
All I know is you held the door, and you'll be mine and I'll be yours
All I know since yesterday, is everything has changed
We take in the music and hold each other close as we dance. It's strange – I feel completely safe and warm in his arms, yet every kiss and every whisper still sends shivers down my spine.
He has no idea. The effect he can have.
The song ends and nothing follows. Peeta keeps dancing, so I do, too. I put my head down on his shoulder, and feel him lower his mouth to my ear.
"Dear Katniss, thank you for coming to the ball with me. Love, Peeta."
I lift up my head and beam at him, tears threatening to flow just from how wonderful this boy is.
"Dear Peeta," I begin, looking into his eyes, "Thank you for inviting me to the ball…I love you, your Katniss."
At this he stops dancing. And I know why.
I've never actually said the words I love you before. It's always been "real," knowing that he understood.
But Peeta deserves more than "real". He deserves everything I have to offer. So I say it again.
"I love you, Peeta."
His smile lights up the room and he connects his forehead to mine, breathing in deeply.
"I love you, Katniss."
We kiss. It's luscious and slow, and I savor every moment of it. We begin to sway again, dancing to our own song, kissing each other deeply, and I know that tonight is going to be different. Tonight we're going to make love and be together in a way we haven't before. Tonight he knows, without a doubt, that I love him completely. Only him.
After a few minutes, I whisper into his ear.
"Peeta?"
"Yes?" he replies, pulling back to look at me.
I smile. "Can we do this again next year?"
Fin
Many thanks to so-amazing-here for being my super-duper beta and wonderful friend.
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