Author's Note: This is a one-shot that was written for Day 1 (Canon Items) of PromptsinPanem on Tumblr. The visual prompt I choose was Lady's Pink Ribbon, which is featured in the image for this story. My name over on Tumblr is also Pookieh, so feel free to stop in!
Peeta sat in his rickety old desk chair and waited diligently by his bedroom window above the bakery, like he did almost every day. He would stare out the window, taking in the bustling of the town square as adults returned home from their day jobs and children played in the streets. Like clockwork, he would spot her just as she rounded the corner, on her usual route after trading with Rooba the butcher. It was the highlight of his day.
On most days, she was accompanied by the older boy who could have passed as her cousin. They shared the tell-tale Seam features, olive skin and grey eyes, but while the boy's were cool and steely, hers had depth to them, like molten pools of silver. For the longest time he actually thought the boy was her cousin, until one day when he saw the way the boy looked at her. He knew that look. The boy looked at her the same way that he had looked at Katniss Everdeen for the past ten years.
Most days Peeta would sit and daydream about what he would say to her if he ever happened upon the chance. He had even gone as so far as to plan out multiple scenarios in which he could approach her. There was even a time when he had collected what little courage he had and started to approach her in the hallway at school one day, his rehearsed lines running on repeat in his head. That was the day he had almost succeeded. Almost. And he would have, if it had not been for Delly. She had intercepted him in the hallway to ask him if he wanted to be her partner for their history assignment. All the while he helplessly watched as the distance between him and Katniss grew with every step she took away from him. He had missed his chance.
He looked to the ancient clock on his bedside table, the hands pointed to five past four. She was late. She was never late. He stood up from his chair that had found a permanent spot by the window, and leaned forward on his hands, looking up and down the streets through the dusty pane of glass. His fingers drummed along the chipped paint of the window sill, a nervous habit he'd acquired over the years.
Just as he was about to turn from his vigilant post, he caught the movement of something from the corner of his eye as it rounded the corner from the butcher. Peeta furrowed his brow in confusion. It was the boy…with a goat. The poor thing was slung awkwardly around his neck with what looked like a mangled shoulder. It was an odd sight to see on a week day in the late afternoon in the middle of town. But not a few seconds later, he released a sigh of relief when he spotted her familiar dark braid that swayed over her shoulder as she hastened her pace to keep up with the boy.
As they drew closer to the bakery, Peeta noticed that something was different about her face today. Over the years he had learnt all of Katniss' looks. Most of the time they ranged from indifferent to distaste, and all possible combinations of the two in between. It was a rare occasion when had he witnessed her smile, and it was only ever the slightest tug at the corners of her mouth. Never a smile that reached her eyes.
When the two were about almost at the back door of the bakery, he watched as Katniss shifted her game bag over her shoulder and said something to her hunting partner. It was days like today when guilt would tug at his conscience because he knew full well that his father was out on a delivery this afternoon.
Normally, when his father was out or too busy managing the front counter to come to the back door when the boy and Katniss arrived, Peeta would sit and watch idly as they waited. Every time he could have easily just went downstairs to let them know his father was busy, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, whether it was due to nerves or the unwarranted enjoyment he got from the opportunity to admire her from his window for just a few minutes longer.
Today, however, was different. Today there was a goat and a new look he had never seen on Katniss before, so it wasn't a surprise when his curiosity got the best of him. Just before they reached the back door, he flew from the window and scurried down the stairs just in time to hear the faint knock from the other side of the door. He waited a few seconds before he opened it.
"Hello," he said with a smile as he greeted them both. He was surprised by how steady his voice was, given that this was the first word he had ever spoken to her. He turned to the boy, "Nice goat."
The boy let out a small laugh as he looked over to Katniss, "Thanks, but it's not mine."
Katniss looked anywhere but directly at Peeta, finally turning her gaze downwards and settling on her boots as she kicked at the dirt of the entryway. Peeta waited for her to say something…anything. The silence continued for what seemed like hours with only the random bleats from the goat to fill the silence.
"Uh, my father's actually out right now making a delivery," Peeta finally spoke. "He should be back in about an hour if you wanted to come back then?"
Katniss let out a frustrated huff as she moved a hand to her hip and she gave a firm kick to the ground.
"Is something the matter?" Peeta asked while he tried to mask his genuine concern over whatever it was that was bothering her.
Katniss frowned, but Peeta took no offense to it. To him, anything was better than a look of indifference. At least with a frown, it was apparent that she had actually acknowledged him, and that had to count for something.
"Don't mind her," the boy snorted in amusement. "She's just upset that the tailor didn't want to trade her some ribbon for the sickly squirrel she shot today."
"It's not sickly!" Katniss fumed as she glared back at the boy. "It was just…underfed." She crossed her arms defensively over her chest and let out a loud, disapproving huff. Peeta had to keep from smiling because even in her infuriated state with her cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed, she was beautiful.
"What did you want the ribbon for?" he asked her, but she stared back at the ground as if she didn't hear him.
"The goat," Gale finally replied. "It's a birthday gift for her sister. Katniss just wanted to, you know, be all girly and make it pretty for her."
Peeta could almost see the furious flames flare up behind her eyes as the boy continued to torment her. He was certain the boy was only trying to get a rise out of her because if there was ever a word he would never use to describe Katniss, let alone say to her face, it was "girly".
"Well," Katniss finally said, "unless the baker has started to rethink his profession, I'm pretty sure we aren't going to find any ribbon here."
Peeta frowned at the sarcastic comment as she started to turn away from the doorway. He didn't want her to leave. Not yet. He'd finally had the chance to say more than a simple pleasantry to her and he'd be damned if the only memory she would have of him was one where she would look back on with frustration and disappointment. Then an idea hit him.
"Wait! Just wait right here a minute, all right?" he asked frantically as he clutched the handle of the door.
Katniss studied him with hardened eyes and when he stared back he could see the distrust behind them.
"Please," he asked again in a softer voice, "I can help."
Her lips tightened into a straight line and as he braced himself for rejection, but it didn't come. Her face relaxed from her scowl before she gave him a curt nod. Peeta smiled back quickly before he turned from the doorway and sprinted back up to their apartment above the bakery, taking two steps at a time up the stairs.
When he reached the door of his parents bedroom, he hesitated a moment while his hand hovered over the doorknob. Was he really about to do this? Was she worth it? Was a girl he had never spoken to before now, a girl who probably didn't even know his name, was she really worth the trouble and the pain he knew he would have to endure if he followed through with this?
Peeta closed his eyes and shook his head to clear away his doubt. The answer was obvious. Of course she was worth it.
He turned the doorknob slowly, in fear of making a sound. He held his breath as he inched the door open, ready to bolt in case the hinges creaked. Thankfully the room remained quiet, but the real task lay before him and he took a moment to gather his nerves.
Over on his parent's wooden dresser was the pair of scissors his mother used to cut his father's hair and across the room in her bed, was the sleeping form of his mother whose heavy breaths filled the otherwise quiet room. His mother had taken to napping during the afternoon due to the early hour with which she awoke to manage the bakery, and thankfully for Peeta, she was a heavy sleeper.
He took one more steadying breath before he tiptoed over to the dresser to fetch the pair of scissors. Once securely in his hand, he crossed the room with the softest tread he could manage until he was hovering only inches from his mother's sleeping body.
The shiny pink satin ribbon that adorned his mother's nightdress hung precariously over her hand which was clenched around a corner of her blanket. He inhaled a deep breath before he leaned in and with one quick motion, snipped at the ribbon where it was attached to the nightdress. Once freed, it slid to the mattress and Peeta quickly grabbed for it just as his mother turned on her side.
Peeta froze when his mother's face stopped a mere inch away from his own. He could feel her warm breath on his cheek as he waited for her eyes to fly open in alarm. But they didn't, they remained closed.
It was then that he realized that there was sweat starting to collect at his temples, even though a cool breeze filled the room through the open window. He inched his way backwards out of the room, almost forgetting to return the scissors to the dresser in his haste. Once the latch of the door clinked into place, he finally released the breath he didn't realize he was holding and almost tripped down the stairs as he hurried back to the door, the pink ribbon firmly in his grasp.
He was relieved to see that Katniss and the boy were still waiting at the door, although both were wearing a mutual look of annoyance. But as he approached her with the pink ribbon dangling from his outstretched hand, Katniss' face light up before him. Her eyes brightened and it was hard not to see the excitement she was trying to hold back.
"Here," he said as he placed the ribbon in her trembling hand. "I hope this will do."
Katniss stared back at him silently until what Peeta had never thought possible to happen, finally occurred. She smiled. She smiled at him. A smile so wide that it reached her eyes. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Thank you," she whispered, but her eyes spoke volumes more than he knew she was comfortable expressing. They stayed locked in each other's gaze for a few seconds longer until Gale cleared his throat, breaking the trance. "I should go," she whispered.
Peeta nodded and watched as she turned away to follow after the boy and the goat. He didn't move. He was too afraid that if he closed the door before she was out of sight, it would somehow ruin the tender moment they had shared. But just before she rounded the corner back to the Seam, he saw her head turn to look back over her shoulder, almost as if she was hoping that he was still there. Their eyes met once again for a brief moment and he could swear he saw her cheeks flush.
The creak of the floor boards above his head brought him back to reality. It was only a matter of time now before his mother would discover what he had done.
He knew there would be a consequence, but it didn't matter to him. He would gladly endure what ever punishment his mother would bestow upon him, just to see her smile like that again.
So later that night, as his mother locked the door to his room behind her while she clutched her ruined nightdress and his father's black leather belt, Peeta braced himself against the wall and closed his eyes. But a small smile crept cross his face, even when he heard the sharp crack of the leather belt behind him.
It was worth it.
She was worth it.