The Beginning of the End
Katniss POV
Chapter 1
The days and weeks began to pass since I was delivered home from the Capitol, each seemingly more slowly than one before it. At first I couldn't bare getting out of bed. My hair hung in greasy oily clumps against my scalp and shoulders; my skin itched and stung both from neglect and from healing. My bones protruded harshly through my flesh, stretched taunt from malnourishment, but I honestly wasn't trying to torture myself, I just didn't feel the hunger anymore.
Each day I would wake up and in my bed with the sun streaming brightly through the windows, push my mind way from the nightmare that ravaged my mind and wrecked my spirit during the night, wishing for nothing more than a few extra hours of peace in the darkness. Eventually, I would pull myself up and walk down the stairs to the front of the house, climb onto a chair and sit wrapped in an old blanket of Prim's looking at nothing until the sun set again. It took weeks; maybe months for me to realize that someone had been coming in and out of the house picking up after me and making sure there was bread to eat and water to drink if I could remind myself to do so.
The first time I remember feeling anything again was in a dream. Usually, the night was a time for anything but rest, but that night was different. I went to bed in the same clothes I had been wearing since I was deposited back in District 12, my senses too dull to notice the filth, my mind too numb to care. But, the moon that night was large and the air that swirled in through my bedroom window was warm. A sweet, almost salty smell tickled my nose as I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes. Something, some memory from not so long ago was begging to resurface, a familiar ache making itself known.
I awoke in a place where the air was thick and moist and the heat surrounded me. I opened my eyes fully, blinking in the brightness of the moon; the same moon that hung over my bedroom window before I had fallen asleep. I sat up feeling the sand between my toes and fingers. Maneuvering my body to the side I realized I was not alone. Peeta was lying next to me in the sand, his body curled into himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his frame. I knew then that I was dreaming, and that strange feeling over took me where you know what surrounds you isn't actually happening, yet it's just as real as breathing. I was back in the arena of the Quarter Quell, and although it may seem strange, I felt oddly content. Knowing that nothing that I saw around me was true gave me a sense of freedom that I hadn't experienced since the reaping day two years before. I watched Peeta as his body filled and deflated with each breath he took. I let my fingers trail over the palm of his hand, up his arm and over tight muscles of his shoulder and neck, then resting against his chest, right atop his heart. I staying like that for a long time, feeling the pulse under my hand as the blood rushed through his veins. With each beat of his heart, I started to live again, the cold gray mass buried deep inside my chest began to thaw. I slid my fingers slowly up again, lingering for a second on the strong line of his jaw, and then running my thumb along the full pout of his lower lip. The pace of his breath sped up, coming in quick warm puffs against my hand. His body stirred beside me, his eyes fluttering open.
"Katniss, what's wrong?" he asked, immediately alert. Oh, how I have missed the sound of his voice.
"Shh," I whispered, placing my finger against his mouth. "Nothing's wrong."
"Then come here," he murmured, rolling toward me and opening his arms. I lay down with him, my cheek flush against his chest and listened to the rhythmic sound of his breathing. Then before I could think my way out of it, I pressed my lips against the hallow of his neck, allowing myself to taste the salt on his skin. I felt him shudder beneath me as goose bumps prickled his flesh.
"Katniss, what are you doing?" Peeta questioned, running his fingers through my hair and then settling his hand on the small of my back.
"What I should have done a long time ago."
I kissed him again, this time on the edge of his jaw then I pressed my mouth fully on his. This surely wasn't our first kiss, or our second, or our third, but this time I wasn't going to pull away. This time I didn't have to perform for anyone except him.
Peeta opened his mouth slightly then, sliding his tongue against mine and I allow it. His hands move from the small of my back to my hips, grasping me firmly on each side. I move my right leg over his body until I'm hovering above him, straddling him. His face rises up to meet me, as he takes control of the kiss, deepening it. I run my hands down the length of his body lingering briefly on his chest, then his stomach, then cautiously, I dip my fingers into what is what is left of his under garments. For the first time, I feel how much he wants me bulging against my hand.
"Oh, god, Katniss," he moans against my mouth as his pelvis begans rocking beneath me.
I wrap my fingers around his length and move my hand gentle up and down as he continues to rock his hips in tandem with my movements. Each time me move together, I feel an ache growing inside me. Peeta's fingers climb up my body, stopping at the hem of my shirt, he tugs it upward, and I release my grip on him to raise my hands over my head as he pulls the fabric from my body, seeing me completely for the time. He kisses down my jaw and below my ear, then explores my chest with his mouth for the first time as our bodies continue moving against each other until a thin line of sweat covers us causing our skin to slide in a delicious way.
Slowly his mouth inches its way back up body until his mouth is on mine again. "Peeta, touch me, please," I say against his mouth and his hand finds its way between us, his fingers slipping inside me, his thumb moving in small circular motions.
I arch my back and pull his chest up against mine as I can feel the tension in my body building and his hips move furiously against me.
"Peeta, I love you," I say before I can stop myself and his movement below me cease.
"What did you say?" he asks, his blues locking onto mine, his hands sliding up to grasp both side of my face.
"I love you," I say again, but before he can respond he is ripped away from me into a spiral of darkness. Everything around me starts to spin until my head throbs and my eyes cross, so I squeeze them shut.
When I open them again, I am alone in my bedroom, the sun coming in brightly through the window, my body drenched in sweat, the fierce ache of being unsatisfied gripping me tightly, my declaration of love for Peeta still lingering on my lips.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I eagerly emerge from bed and walking into the bathroom stripping off my clothes. I shower slowly and thoroughly, and then dress in a fresh outfit. Down stairs, I take the time to down a glass of water and eat one of the cheese buns resting on the kitchen counter before going outside and walking three doors down.