Hijacked
He swore time and time again he wouldn't give in. He tried to hang on to what little was left of him as his body squirmed and twisted against the restraints that held him captive. He didn't know how long he had been there, at some point all track of time was lost. The frustration and pressure were reflected on his face, he was pale and the circles under his eyes indicated he hadn't slept in several days. He was covered in sweat and his muscles tightened and relaxed rhythmically, every spasm accompanied by senseless growls.
The memories of her were being torn from him, he could feel them slipping away, and yet, it didn't matter how much he fought: the smell of her hair, the touch of her skin… what did her kisses taste like? He could just not remember.
"This case has been exceptional, I must say" a nurse said from the control room in which the boy was being watched.
"Well, it took us a couple of weeks, but it's almost done. President Snow will be glad to hear about this" stated the doctor beside her calmly.
"Is it almost done? The boy's passion is strong, he's still hanging on to the memory of her can't you see?" the nurse asked as she pointed towards the monitors in front of them.
"Oh, but my dear we're not getting rid of the boy's passion!" he exclaimed, amused by the nurse's statement. "You see, passion is a very interesting emotion. It can drive people to do amazing things… but it can also drive them to do the most horrible ones. What we are doing with Peeta Mellark is just… pointing his passion in the right direction" he said jokingly making the nurse smile lightly. "So, let's just give the extraction process a couple of more hours, and then we can start pumping in new feelings so we can complete the task, clear?"
"Clear!" answered the nurse enthusiastically as she returned her attention to the monitors.
…
How much more time had passed since the last time he had asked himself this very question? Days, weeks or maybe even months… he didn't know and he certainly didn't care. He had stopped moving, his breaths were deep and steady and his unblinking eyes were set on the ceiling. The only existing thought in his mind was that girl – no - that mutt, Katniss Everdeen.
He knew he was confined somewhere in the Capitol, he knew he was being held by the enemy, but he didn't understand why. He remembered turmoil inside his brain; he remembered the physical and mental torture he had endured. But in an instant, all of that had come to a sudden end, and amongst the confusion he found clarity. He was uncertain of everything, except for the source and object of the uncontrollable, mad hate that burned within him. A hate so strong, a hate so embedded that seemed to have been there all along.
Peeta found a sense of calmness through the acceptance of this emotion, and finally allowed himself to close his eyes and rest. He had a purpose now and he knew what had to be done. He let his mind wander, and a weak smile let itself show as he pictured killing the girl that had invaded his every thought. It was amidst these imaginings where he managed to fall to peaceful sleep.
…
After his rescue from the Capitol, his surroundings hadn't changed dramatically in District 13, Peeta found himself restricted to a bed once more. He had to admit this was primarily his own fault. He had let all those build-up emotions take over his body when he first saw Katniss. He felt as if he was on fire when their eyes met, and had foolishly thrown himself at her without thinking through, his hands were around her delicate neck in the split of a second. Obviously, his attempt to finish her was interrupted by those who were with them in the room. How could he be so stupid? Why couldn't he wait until the two of them were alone? Now he had given his intentions away and nobody would let him come near her.
During the following weeks he received constant visits, both from doctors and nurses, and from people he remembered and cared about. He realized they all touched the Katniss subject at some point during conversations. He found it strange that nobody seemed to share his opinion of her; on the contrary, everyone seemed to love this girl. Every single one of his visitors tried to persuade him that his thoughts weren't really his own, and that he loved Katniss, like everybody else did. These new ideas confused him and brought part of the pain he had felt at the Capitol back, and although he had started to question all of this himself, he remained set on his ways, for he was convinced all that doubt would come to an end once she was dead.
Something became clear, in order to leave the room he needed to recover, and for all of those people, his "recovery" meant him not wanting to strangle Katniss. If this was the only way, then he would lead them to believe he was indeed recovering. He would hide his murderous intentions until the moment was right, he needed to plan this logically, strategically, he now knew a mindless attack wouldn't do.
…
Katniss couldn't wait to get out of District 13, for one she was tired of being bossed around like a little child, but most importantly, she couldn't wait to finally do something that would help the rebellion that had unfolded in the last couple of months against the Capitol.
Another day of hard work and training had passed and she had done everything in order to stand out, since, as Coin had declared, that was the only way she would be chosen to battle alongside the rest of the rebels. She couldn't deny that part of her extreme dedication was due to the fact that she needed distraction. Peeta had been allowed to leave the hospital room a couple of days ago and was now roaming throughout the building freely. She had been assured he was no longer dangerous, in fact he hadn't approached her at all, but she couldn't manage to forget the look in his eyes while he strangled the life out of her.
She hated the Capitol and she hated Snow more than ever. The Peeta she knew had been taken away from her, perhaps never to return and she felt helpless. It hurt her to walk past him, to be in the same room, and to care for him still when he would not even bother to look at her. Only heaven knew the tortures he had endured while he was a prisoner and she could only find comfort in the thought of revenge. She wanted to feel safe sleeping in his arms once more, she wanted to go to him and tell him so many things; but the doctors said she should be patient, they said he would surely make the first move when he was ready, and so she waited…
…
Two weeks passed by, everyone had gotten used to Peeta's presence inside the building. He was no longer a safety concern; he was given a room to stay in and was allowed to join the training squads for war. He seemed harmless to everyone, but in reality, his machinations were still in motion. All those days he had paid close attention to Katniss' every move, he would not look at her much though, he was afraid not only of the possibility of getting caught, but also of the puzzling feelings looking at her for long periods of time would provoke. He didn't have to worry about figuring this out anyway, whatever it was causing these emotions, would disappear with her soon.
…
It had been the longest day. Katniss came into the room she now shared with Joanna, her feet dragging across the floor with every exhausted step she took. Her fairly new roommate had an accident during training while climbing a tree, one of her feet slipped and the fall left her with a broken leg, and because of this, she would be spending the night in the hospital rooms. Peeta seemed to be his old self with everyone but her; he had been in the same treetop beside Joanna when she fell, and immediately after the loud thud, had come back down to check on her and then carry her to the doctor. Katniss could swear he smiled at her before walking away… maybe he was making progress, or maybe her own desperation for him had taken its toll and started to provoke her hallucinations.
Katniss made her way to the bathroom, undressing on the way and leaving her clothes randomly scattered on the floor. She didn't even bother to lock the door since she was going to sleep alone tonight. District 13's showers weren't as sophisticated as the ones she had seen in the Capitol, but they were definitely a luxury compared to District 12's anyway: they had hot water almost immediately, they were delimited by beautiful glass doors, and they were very spacey. She tried to convince herself that thinking about the shower's technicalities was more interesting than thinking about Peeta, but failed. The thoughts of him came back as she turned on the shower and waited for the water to get hot. She stepped in and allowed herself to relax when she felt the liquid run down her sore muscles.
…
Peeta placed Joanna gently on the hospital bed following the doctor's directions.
"There we are! Thank you for bringing her all the way here, Peeta" said the doctor placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry about it" he replied with a smile. "It's the least I can do. I mean, after all the trouble I've caused".
"It isn't your fault. The Capitol is the one to blame" the doctor affirmed sternly. "But I want you to know that I've never heard of someone recovering from a hijacking so quick! You're something else boy!" he exclaimed.
"I'm still not sure of many things…" said Peeta with a confused look in his eyes.
"I know who you refer to. Give it time and you'll learn to distinguish the real from the unreal" he explained. "Take into account that there's only one person that can help you discern the two, so I suggest you re-establish contact with her soon".
"I will" he answered simply.
Peeta turned around to leave, and once in the hall, he tightened his grip around the key he had hidden in his pocket. Nobody seemed to suspect he was the one who had pushed Joanna down the tree, not even Joanna herself. She didn't even feel when he stole her room key while carrying her. He felt guilty for hurting her, but the end justified the means. He knew Katniss and Joanna shared the same room; he needed a key to the room and needed to get Katniss alone, and his plan had killed the two birds with one stone, simply perfect. Now he just needed to complete the second part of the plan.
He walked cautiously towards the room and made sure no one followed him. Once in front of the door he didn't hesitate, he used the key to enter the room and lock it from the inside. His guard was up; he carefully scanned the empty room, waited for her to appear out of nowhere, waited to hear a scream for help or something, but nothing happened. Then, he became aware of the sound of water running coming from the bathroom and of the garments lying on the floor. He couldn't help but smirk when he realized his prey's whereabouts. She was all alone, vulnerable, and most importantly: trapped.
Slowly, he walked towards the bathroom and drew a small razor from his back pocket. It was the only non-noticeable weapon he could sneak out of the training room. His other hand rested on the doorknob, he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths before attempting to open it. He was expecting it to be locked, it wasn't… the door gave way immediately. His heart sped up and he became deafened by its beating as he pushed the door forward only a few centimeters. His curious eyes peeked through the opening searching for the soon-to-be victim. He could appreciate her silhouette through the blurred, misty glass. After he made sure she hadn't heard him yet, he let himself in as swiftly and inaudibly as he could manage; he was usually not good at this, but the water's loud sound helped him this time.
…
Outside the world, Katniss had her eyes closed and her head stretched back as she let the water rinse off the last remains of soap from her body. Her eyes flew open when she felt a sharp edge against her neck and a hand grab a hold of her waist from behind. Her back was pressed against her attacker's chest and her head was forced to rest on the hollow of his neck. Instinctively she resisted, and her hands went to meet the stranger's hands, she clawed at his arms and tried to get free, but his only response was to tighten his grasp. She knew who it was; she didn't need to think too much, she knew these arms too well.
"Peeta…" she whispered.
The sound of her sent chills down his spine. His grip loosened as he unconsciously touched her neck with his nose and breathed in deeply, relishing in her scent.
Katniss didn't wait another second, the instant she felt his strength relent she fought back. She freed herself from his arms and pushed him with all her might. Peeta fell to the floor, his elbows breaking the fall; he was completely soaked now, and this hampered his movement.
The tender lapse he had had was gone, his face reflected fury. Katniss' adrenaline levels heightened after meeting Peeta's deadly gaze. She turned around and attempted to escape the confined glass chamber, but was quickly taken by the ankles which send her face-first to the floor.
They thrashed about for a while, neither showing signs of surrendering. Their bodies knotted and unknotted in different positions, they flipped and turned to the sound of the running water and their heavy breaths. In one sudden triumphant move, Peeta managed to restrict Katniss completely by straddling her and pushing her hands above her head. The knife had been shoved out of his reach at some point during the struggle. They stared at each other panting, neither one of them dared to move or speak.
Katniss knew her physical strength couldn't even begin to compare with Peeta's, she was done for. She started thinking about how ironic it was to have survived the Hunger Games by his side and still be destined to die at his hand in a completely different setting. Sadness overcame her, she thought of the rebellion, of her sister and mother, of Gale and all of the people she cared for. And she thought of Peeta, as she stared into his eyes she couldn't help but wonder whether she could've saved him somehow.
Peeta knew reaching for the knife wasn't an option. This girl would take advantage of any opportunity to turn the tables around and she had made that clear. He remained still, maintaining the position that gave him the advantage. He didn't look away from her grey eyes, he wanted to figure out her next move, wanted to read her, but to no avail. All of a sudden the feelings he feared would appear started to arise. His gaze left her eyes to focus on her lips, and continued its way down, admiring her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders, her chest still heaving from their fight, her breasts, her waist… He took his time and then slowly, let his eyes make their way back up to hers.
Katniss was painfully aware of his perusal and it made her feel strange. A part of her wished she could cover her nakedness, and another part of her, a part she instantly declared insane, in spite of the circumstances felt a tinge of excitement. If he wanted to finish her off wouldn't he have done so by now?
Peeta could feel a hot, burning desire at the pit of his stomach, the palms of his hands tingled. What was it? Was it the desire to kill her, or was it a completely different kind of desire? He couldn't stop the lower part of his body from responding to the girl trapped beneath him.
Katniss felt it, and despite her lack of experience, deduced what was happening. The passion in his eyes was almost tangible, and it made her feel as if she was really on fire.
"Peeta…" she whispered again wishing he would recognize her finally.
Peeta lowered his face to hers so that their foreheads were touching. He closed his eyes as if he were being under sweet torture. "Don't say my name like that" he meant to command, but his voice came out as a plea.
"Why not?" She managed to breathe out.
"Because I hate you" he gritted through his teeth, opening his resentful eyes to stare at hers once more.
Katniss paused for a bit. "Why? Why do you hate me Peeta?" she asked in a gentle whisper.
The question took him by surprise. He didn't know. Was there no truth behind this senseless and blinding hate? He was lost in his thoughts, his face still against Katniss'. The pain he had suffered at the hands of the Capitol came back, along with the confusion and the despair. He clenched and tried to block everything out, but couldn't manage to. He straightened, still sitting on Katniss, but let go of her hands. He clutched them to the sides of his head, he felt as if it were going to explode any minute.
Katniss thought about running away, her hands were now free and she could just push him off of her, in the state he was in he surely wouldn't put up a fight. Instead, she reached for his face, pulled him towards her and kissed him.
The feel of her lips against his was his undoing; he responded to it ardently, and found in it a channel for all of the extreme and conflicting emotions he had gone through. They both let their instincts take over. The battle that had ensued earlier on was reenacted but with a different take. Their kisses were fiery and their hands were restlessly exploring the other.
Peeta discarded his wet clothes with Katniss' help, and found his naked back against the cold wall. She had positioned herself on top of him. When she lowered herself on him the rest was a blur to both of them, they were only conscious of each other's existence. Neither of them knew what they were doing, they just knew it felt right somehow. They rolled on the shower's floor and Peeta ended up on top of her.
He couldn't get enough of her. He was drunk from the feel of her skin against his, the sight of her face in complete abandon, and the sweet taste of her kisses. There was no doubt that she knew this girl, not only knew her, but loved her and had loved her for God knows how long.
Their movements began to speed up. Their breaths mingled as they clung to the other as if their lives depended on it. The feeling was becoming too much for her, and she felt as if she was going to burst. When the waves of pleasure finally came crashing down on her she moaned out his name and sank her nails in his back. This was enough to bring him with her.
They both stayed liked that, waiting for their breaths to come back to normal. They held each other in silence.
"I think we should get out of here" Katniss was the first to speak.
Peeta answered by turning off the shower and helping her up to her feet.
He stepped out of the shower onto the fluffy carpet without saying a word followed by Katniss. He reached out for a towel and turned to her, she was about to take it from him when he stopped her. "No, let me do it" he said calmly. She nodded and let him tenderly dry her face first, then her neck, and her shoulders. There he paused and looked at her "I'm sorry…" he said with his voice about to break "I'm very sorry" he repeated keeping his composure.
She immediately put her arms around him and tried to calm him. "I forgive you, Peeta. Of course I forgive you" she whispered in his ear. "I'm just so happy that you came back to me" she said letting go so that she could cradle his face in her hands. "I love you, never forget that" she said looking into his eyes.
"I love you" he responded still with a hint of guilt in his voice as he finally realized this had been the only truth all along.
…
For her there couldn't be anything better than being with him and feeling safe. She snuggled in the warmth of his chest as she drifted to sleep with a smile on her face.
