Come Back… Be Here

Sorry! I know I said I'd do this ages ago, but I've been ridiculously busy. Anyway, I read all of your responses and came up with this weird mixture of both ideas. So yes, this is supposed to be British!Peeta, so imagine him with an English accent, but that doesn't mean I've written him all that differently to normal. I'm English, so I read all the characters with an English accent and always write them as though they're English too. One thing that might make him slightly OOC is that we English are a quiet, self conscious, reserved bunch, who are (generally) less outgoing than your typical American (I can say this because I am English). So don't expect Peeta to be forthright in his expression of emotion… (Also, apologies for the amount of italics used - it was necessary. And sorry for this huge A/N!) Set in New York, they're in their late twenties. The second half is a lot better.

Summary: The morning after a fight, Katniss wakes up to an empty apartment and an achy heart that tells her something she'd really rather not know. With BritishDiplomat!Peeta.

Disclaimer: THG is not mine. Suzanne Collins owns it all, I just mess around with her characters.

Read, enjoy, review!

As the first tendrils of sunlight tickled her consciousness, Katniss began to stir. She was splayed out across the bed, feet hanging off the side and one very brave, very cold hand peeking out from under her quilt. She snuggled further under her covers until only the crown of her head was showing. She breathed slowly, hoping that she would soon return to blissful oblivion.

Those peaceful, memory-less moments had been spent.

Her eyes flicked open.

Reluctantly, she pulled her duvet down far enough for her eyes to peek out, the faint light causing her to blink rapidly. She scanned the room and hoped desperately that her memories of the night before had just been a dream. The absence of off key singing in her apartment told her otherwise.

Wincing as her feet made contact with the cold wooden floor, she grabbed a jumper and pulled it over her head as she padded over to the door. Hesitantly, she drew it open as if unable to confront the emotions that would face her on the other side.

To the untrained eye, her living area looked normal and undisturbed, but everywhere she looked there was a reminder; it was as if a brick was added each time to the heavy burden she was carrying. Katniss forced herself to look at every single one, reliving the entire previous night.

The pile of unwashed dishes by the sink:

She came home to find an Englishman in her kitchen, cooking tea for her.

She stifled a giggle at the sight of him, the masculinity exuding from him in his tailored suit slightly spoiled by the pink, frilly apron wrapped around his waist. It had been a gift from Prim a few years before that she had detested at the time, but this certainly made up for it. "How did you get in?" Her voice startled Peeta, making him physically jump, before turning and fixing her with a playful glare. It quickly morphed into a smile.

"Is that any way to greet your amazing boyfriend who is making a homemade meal for you, even after he worked hard all day?"

"Sitting there nodding while someone else waffles on about who knows what does not constitute as work." As his gaze continued, she humphed, before slinking across the room to give him a perfunctory kiss on the lips. He caught her arms, holding her to him until she relaxed against him, and then he gently released her.

She gave him a small grin. "Satisfied?" He mulled it over for a moment, then shook his head, a glint in his eyes. She whacked his arm. "Well, that's all you're getting. Now, how did you get in here and, more importantly, what are you cooking me?"

"Glad to see you've got your priorities in the right order. You should really keep the spare key in a place less obvious than under the door mat. An English favourite, seeing as I'm supposed to be promoting England - battered fish, mushy peas and chips. And you will have a chip butty even if I have to force feed you." At the time it had sounded disgusting, but it was surprisingly delicious (as well very amusing watching Peeta, still in his business get-up, eating his chip butty with his bare hands).

They had had a good meal, laughing and joking about all sorts. They had got up to put the dishes in the kitchen and do the washing up as usual, when everything started to go downhill. Now for exhibit B, the smashed mug:

"I am so full. How do you guys ever stay thin eating that stuff regularly?"

"I could ask the same thing about you Americans and McDonalds."

"Touché. What's your most embarrassing McDonalds moment?"

"Don't have one - never really eaten there. More of a Subway guy myself."

Katniss' jaw dropped. "I'll have to rectify that. Shall I tell you mine?" She didn't really know why she was doing this, dragging her most humiliating moments out into the open, but being with him always compelled her to act like a completely different person. "I was out with Jo one time during our lunch hour - this was back when we were at school - and we had decided to eat in. So, there we were with out food, when this hugely fat lady walked in. I hadn't actually noticed her (I was watching this hot guy on the other side of the room)." She absent-mindedly noted his jaw tightening slightly at this; as if he had any sort of competition from a 17 year old boy.

"Jo was poking me, trying to get my attention. I pushed her away, trying to get her to stop. Instead, she just poked me again and whined, "But, oh my God, she's so fat!" in her terrifyingly loud voice. Everyone heard, including the lady, and turned to give her evils. Or so I thought. Until I realised they were staring at me and thought that I had said it! I tried to deny it, but everyone just hated me even more for trying to 'pin it on Jo'. We were very firmly asked to leave the premises. I've never been back."

Peeta's sky blue eyes widened. "She actually said that?"

"She actually said that."

He whistled, starting to run the water into the sink. "Wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of her. She sounds very opinionated. What did she say when she found out about us?"

An increasingly tense moment passed. "She doesn't know about us." It wasn't a question. He could see it in her face. She watched as disappointment flared in his eyes and he turned back to the sink, effectively ending the conversation.

It was awkwardly silent for a few minutes before she snapped. "What?" Her eyes narrowed, as her turned round, his 'diplomat' face back on. "So what, I like my privacy. I have a right to it if I remember correctly. I only tell her stuff if it's really important." As soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she wanted to stuff them all back in. Crinkles appeared on his forehead.

"What, so what we have is not important? I'm not important?" Normally, she would have reassured him, told him the truth that he was the most important thing in her world, but not today. She had been expecting this for weeks, for her to mess it up, or for him to realise that she wasn't good enough and leave.

"Course you are!" she replied exasperatedly.

"Of course you are," he mimicked back. "And how exactly am I supposed to know that when you never tell me how you feel. I don't even know if you actually like me!"

"I don't know how I feel!"

"How can you not - never mind. It's not even worth it." He turned back to the dishes, emotionless mask back in place. She was torn between hitting him and asking how the hell he managed to do that so easily. She went with a happy medium: angry whispering.

"Sorry I'm quiet. Sorry I don't feed your ego enough. Sorry I'm not perfect like you!" She was met with a stony silence. "So I'm not even worth answering now?" Her voice suddenly raised, "Answer me!" Still no response.

CRACK! Peeta looked at her with wide eyes as she slowly registered the fact that she had thrown the mug she was drying at the time at the wall by his head. She saw a flicker of fear run over his features before it was replaced with determination. She picked up another to chuck at him.

She still couldn't believe that she had done that. No matter how angry she had been, she had never been violent like that. They had never finished doing the dishes and after… well, after she just couldn't force herself to do it. Leaving the pile where it was, she wondered back to the lounge area and looked at the final and most saddening piece of evidence: the undisturbed pillow and blanket lying on the sofa.

Peeta raised his hand and clamped down on her arm, stopping her from destroying any more crockery. Just before he reached her, she flinched, seeing him towering above her with his arm raised. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he didn't notice.

"You think I'd hit you?" The whisper was so soft she could barely hear it. Damn, so he had seen. She opened her eyes as he lifted his hand away, taking the mug with him. She couldn't help but look at his face. There she saw the shock and shame he felt, as obvious as if he had it written in capital letters across his forehead. They simply stared at one another for a few minutes, as she waited for him to say anything else. He turned his back on her and when he turned back, all emotions had been replaced by a tightly controlled anger. "You really think I'd hit you? After everything I said, about my mum, about wanting to become a diplomat. You actually flinch away from me?" He shook his head and gathered up his things. Folding up Prim's apron, he refused to look at her. His voice was stiff when he spoke. "Miss Everdeen, if I forgot anything, please send it to my office."

And he left. He just walked out the door, leaving Katniss standing in stunned silence, staring at the door he had just walked out of. Because he was gone and, somehow, she knew he wasn't going to come back.

She had spent the rest of the night wrapped up in bed, desperately trying to forget that last blank scan of her he had done before he left, as though she meant nothing to him.

…

Katniss sank down onto the settee, her head in her hands. With a flash of inspiration, she jumped up and found her phone, quickly calling his office. He should have been in by now. "Hello?" It was Peeta's assistant, Delilah Cartwright.

"Hi, can I speak to Mr Mellark please?"

"I'm afraid he returned to London last night. Is there a message I can pass on?" Disappointment wracked her body, because really, this wasn't the sort of thing that could be discussed through his secretary.

"No, no message." She put down the phone. Had she really been that bad that he couldn't even stay in the same country as her? They had talked about an opportunity he had been given by work to go back to London with a better pay, that would also mean he would be closer to his family and friends. They had, she thought, agreed that he would stay her. Had this really made him change his mind? Sliding down the wall, she sat on the floor and drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them. She eventually fell asleep, curled up in the corner of her little kitchenette.

…

Unsurprisingly, she woke up stiff but a little more alert than before. After making a pot of coffee, she sat down to think. Why was it so important to get him back? She had broken up with guys before, guys that she had been together with for longer, with more dramatic break ups (although it was a little difficult to think of any at that moment). All she knew was that everything in her screamed that it was impossible not to go after him, not to make this right. So, instead of worrying over the little details, she went over the previous night, trying to work out what she could do to make it right.

"I don't even know if you actually like me!" She could say the same thing about him. He was so quiet, never trying anything - in fact, she had instigated everything they had done. She had even been the one to ask him out for dinner the first time. Yes, she appreciated that he didn't try and push her, or force her into doing something she didn't want to, but she wasn't sure if he had ever really liked her. He had been open enough about his past after they had been dating for a month or two; he had told of his abusive mum, how his father and older brothers had just stood by and how he became a diplomat because he wanted to help people and create peace (not to mention the fact that he had enough charisma to charm the pants off a nun). There was only one time he had told her about his feelings:

"Go on Peeta, please? You've been working so hard lately, you really need to relax. How could you say no to this adorable puppy face?" Katniss pulled a face at him. He groaned.

"Fine, I'll do it, but we can't leave this apartment. How would it look if pictures of the British Diplomat on a pub crawl - sorry, bar crawl - were splashed across tomorrow's papers? I'd lose my job for sure." She grinned. She hated going out with him anyway. He attracted far too many admiring female gazes for it to be enjoyable for her.

…

"Hey Katnissh?"

"Yeah, Peets?"

"I would have done it, y'know."

"Would have done what, sweetie pie?"

"Would 'ave ashked you out, if you 'adn't ashked me firsht." He looked over at her very seriously, which didn't quite have the same effect as he intended, due to the pink party hat on his head and the teddy bear clutched tightly to his chest.

"Really, snookums?"

"Of coursh. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm just a secretary, darling. I'm hardly a match made in heaven for a British diplomat. That's practically royalty, sweet pea, especially when you're as hot as you are."

Peeta launched himself from the armchair in which he was sitting rather unsteadily, and staggered over to the sofa where she was lying. Picking her up (because, even drunk, he was as strong as Superman), he sat where she had been and positioned her in his lap. "Don't you d… Don't you d… Don't you dare shay that. You're sho much better than I am. I'm jusht sho meshed up. And even if I wash the mosht perfect guy in the world, you'd shtill be too good for me."

"That's so sweet, flitter mouse. But it's not true, angel face."

"Of coursh it ish. You jusht don't shee youshelf like I do."

"How do you see me, cinnamon?"

"Well, the firsht time I shaw you, I 'fort, "In't she jusht the mosht beautiful thing you've ever sheen?" And it'sh true. You're sho fucking beautiful. Everytime I shee you, I have to shtop a moment jusht to take in your beauty. And to calm my wildly beating heart. Feel thish?" He laid her hand over his chest. "That'sh becaush of you. It happensh all the time and I don't know how to shtop it. Do you know how to shtop it? Shometimesh, I 'fink I'm going to have a heart attack, but then I remember I can't becaush you wouldn't be around anymore. I can't leave you.

You're not jusht a pretty fashe either. You're sho passhionate that you put everything in to what you do. You're shy, which meansh you don't put yourshelf out there and make a big shpectacle sho loadsh of guysh don't look at you. Doeshn't mean all of them shtop though. I hate it when they look at you. You're mine, and they shouldn't interfere." He pouted.

"Stop, baby doll, before you regret it."

"No! I want to shay thish now, when I shtill can, becaush I'm too shcared to do thish shober. I'm alwaysh shcared. I'm shcared you're going to shee what my mama shaw in me, that I'm pathetic, and ushelessh, and you won't want me anymore. I'm sho shcared you're going to leave me, find shomeone better than me and laugh in my fashe. Mosht of all, I'm shcared to tell you I love you, becaush I know that will shcare you, and I care about you and adore you and love you and I jusht don't want you to go, even if I know someone elsh ish better for you. I'm sho shelfish, sho I never tell you I love you becaush I know you don't feel the shame way."

But did she? Katniss wasn't sure how she felt. And, honestly, didn't have time at the moment to work it out. She was already almost late for work.

…

By the time she came home, Katniss knew what she had to do. Had this been the 19th Century, she would have written a letter and had a footman deliver it. As it was, an email would have to do. After it was written, she reviewed it once, and hit send.

Dear Peeta,

Please read this. I'm sure you're angry at me, and you have every right. But please, still read this.

I remember, the second day we met, we had been working late on some document. And, at 4 in the morning, you said, "Isn't it strange - I barely know you, yet I feel more comfortable with you than I ever have with anyone before." At the time I nodded and chuckled, I think, but when I got home, I spent an hour thinking about that one sentence. I told myself you were just like all the rest: here for now, but only fleetingly. I tried to put up my defences, yet you managed to knock them down as if they were as light as a feather.

So I gave in, and revelled in the little sparks that flew every time we came into contact. I don't whether you felt the same thing, but I felt beautiful when I you looked at me. I couldn't resist, and I asked you out, knowingly setting myself up for disaster. Because I always destroy anything good in my life. But I hoped, beyond all hope, that maybe this time was different.

If this was a letter, you would see the marks my tears make as I write this. As it is, you'll just have to imagine them.

Now you're gone, and this is the only way I can reach you. Even now, I don't know if you'll have blocked my address and number. All I can do is hope and pray because, I was walking today, in amongst the busy crowds and the yellow taxis, and all I could think was I wanted you to run up from behind, grab my hand and pull me into a doorway to kiss me senseless like you did that one time. Instead, all I was met with was hostile stares.

I'm sitting here, in this city I've always loved, and wishing with all my being that you had taken me with you. Because I would give up everything to be with you, Peeta. I don't want to depend on you like this, I'm terrified that, even after this letter, you'll still hate me but I can't stop. This is the cruellest thing anyone has ever done to me, and you don't even know you're doing it.

I'm falling in love with you, and you're on the other side of the world.

I suppose I did sort of know how I felt when you asked, but I had never let myself acknowledge it because I was never sure how you felt. I didn't want to fall this deeply and then be cast off, if you didn't feel the same. Only once did you talk about your feelings, and you were drunk and didn't mention it the next morning. I didn't think it counted. So I didn't even acknowledge this…euphoria, because my pride wouldn't let me.

But now, my pride doesn't matter. Nothing does, except telling you how I feel. If there's the slightest chance that you would come back, then this has all been worth it. So… I love you. I love your hair, your startling eyes, your gentle smile. I love your cute little accent and how you're so proud of being British. I love your kindness and your gentleness, how you've managed to turn all the bad in your life into something good. I love how you love the same nerdy movies as me and how you always understand me.

I love you.

So, if you even return the slightest bit of this, please come back, be here. You're in London and it's not fair that you're not around. I don't want to have to miss you like this. If you can find it in yourself to forgive me, please, come back. Please, give me a second chance to tell you everything I didn't tell you the first time.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Yours, forever,

Katniss.

…

Three knocks at the door startled Katniss as she watched late night (or was it early morning?) telesales. Shimmying out from under her blanket, she walked over and unlocked the door of her apartment.

Peeta was standing in the hall. He looked like hell, in a hoodie and trackies for the first time since Katniss had met him. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked like a bird had slept in it. Yet when he looked at her, all of that seemed to fade away, and he looked better than he ever had before. Anything was perfection compared to his complete absence in her life.

"I don't hate you." The sentence knocked her out of her reverie. He continued. "Your email. You said I hated you. I don't. Didn't. Couldn't." He looked down at the floor. "I don't think you can ever hate someone you're in love with."

She was stunned. "You're back?"

"I'm back."

"You want to try again?"

"I want to try again."

Katniss took a deep breath. "And… you love me?"

"And I love you." In one step, he closed the distance between them, and claimed her lips with his. Lifting his head a fraction, he murmured, "Forever."

Oooh, that was cute if a little depressing. HEA everyone! Did you like it? Please tell me what you thought and review. Have a lovely day!