An Everlark first kiss (a little blurb I wrote for #everlarkinlove on Tumblr, this is a modern AU)
Our first kiss should have tasted like root beer and cherry lip balm. I was 13, Cato Clarke invited our entire 7th grade class to a party in his basement. The lights were low and we were sitting in a circle on the floor, all fidgety energy and awkward laughing. When it was my turn to spin the bottle I prayed to every deity I'd ever read about for it to land on her. Katniss.
Katniss Everdeen and I had been in the same class at our tiny District 12 school since kindergarten, and I'd had a crush on her nearly as long. The beautiful girl with silver eyes and raven hair and a voice that made the rest of the world fall silent.
That night at Cato's house she was sitting beside Madge Undersee, playing nervously with the hem of her red plaid shirt. I caught her eyes as I let go of the bottle, and a pretty blush lit her olive cheeks.
But the odds weren't in my favour that night. Cato's dad appeared at that moment, breaking up the game before the bottle even came to a stop.
...
Our first kiss should have tasted like watermelon and sunscreen. Madge's Sweet 16 pool party was going to be the big event of the summer, it was all anyone could talk about for weeks. I'd spent those weeks dreaming about seeing Katniss is a bikini (and much of that with my fist in my shorts.) But she never showed up at the party, and no one knew why.
It was days later that I heard about the heart attack that had stolen her father and her childhood in one devastating blow.
...
Our first kiss should have tasted like spiked punch and freedom. I wanted to ask her to prom so bad, had been psyching myself up to do so when the rumours started swirling. Gale Hawthorne, who'd been the 'alpha male' football playing hotshot of our high school until he graduated the year before, was coming back from college to grace us peons with his presence at prom. Apparently he was accompanying one of the seniors. My heart sank; it could only have been Katniss, they'd been inseparable until he left, and linked for years.
So I asked Clove Phillips to be my date, then spent the whole evening looking over her shoulder.
Katniss was wearing a silver gown that matched her beautiful eyes, and she'd come stag. She spent most of the evening alone by the punch bowl, watching Gale and Madge, who came together, and together, grind on the dance floor.
I felt like a complete asshole. Especially when I caught those silver eyes watching me sadly from across the room.
...
Our first kiss should have tasted like cheap beer and jungle juice. Even though I was a freshman I had no trouble securing an invite to the Delt kegger. Having two older brothers was occasionally advantageous.
The beer was a little too warm and the music a little too loud, and I was contemplating ditching early when I saw her. Katniss.
I knew she was a student at Panem U, but our paths hadn't crossed, not in the 6 weeks of classes, not in the two months of summer beforehand, not even once.
But she was there, playing flip cup with some older red-headed guy who was keeping her cup full, even as he openly leered at her long lean legs, gorgeously displayed in a short denim skirt. I waited anxiously for a pause in the game, for Red to wander back to the keg, then I approached her.
She was drunk. She was so drunk I wasn't sure at first if she even recognized me. But then she narrowed her silver eyes at me. "Why don't you ever talk to me, Peeta?" she asked. "You look at me, all of the time, but you never say a word." I couldn't answer, shocked that she'd ever noticed me watching her, and distracted by the sound of my name on her lips.
She made a small, displeased huff, then stomped away with a scowl. I chased her; through the frat house, out the front door and across the lawn. "Wait," I begged. "Please Katniss."
"Why?" she snapped, spinning to face me and wobbling unsteadily, a storm in her eyes. "What's your story, Mellark?" she spat. "You stare at me, tell your friends you like me, but then you refuse to even talk to me." She moved closer, taking my breath away with her proximity. "You. Never. Talk. To. Me." She was slurring slightly, punctuating each word with a jab of her finger in my chest.
"I wanted to, so much Katniss, you have to believe me!"
"Then why?" she choked, and when I didn't immediately answer she turned away again. I couldn't let her go, and reached for her arm. She spun and shoved me hard, both of us ended up sprawled in the damp grass, shocked. Then her defiant expression fell, and her silver eyes shimmered. "I know I'm not the easiest person to talk to," she whispered, her eyes lowered to her lap.
"Fuck," I groaned. "No, Katniss, no, you're amazing. I'm just a coward. A fucking coward." She flopped backwards in the grass and I crawled over to her. "I'm so sorry. You must think I'm such a dick." I collapsed in the grass beside her, the damp bleeding through my shirt.
She rolled onto her side, facing me. "Kind of," she admitted, but with a soft smile. "You're just so friendly with everyone else. You have like a thousand friends. And you look at me like you want to talk to me but then you never do."
"You intimidate me," I admitted, and she scowled. "I'm serious, Katniss. You're fierce and so hot, and you don't even know the effect you have..." She stared at me skeptically. "Can we start again?" I flashed her my biggest smile and held my breath.
"Sure, Peeta," she laughed, and sat up, still swaying a little. I had my doubts about whether she'd even remember this in the morning, but I wasn't going to waste my chance.
I stuck out my hand and she shook it with an amused expression. "I'm Peeta," I said, and she laughed.
"I'm glad to meet you," she said softly.
I walked her back to her dorm. She threw up twice along the way. By the time we got there she was staggering, heavy-eyed, and I carried her up the stairs. She was out cold when I set her on what I hoped was her bed. Then I sat on the floor and played on my phone.
When her roommate showed up an hour later I left Katniss in her care, but not before programming my number into Katniss's phone.
...
Our first kiss tasted like pent-up longing and relief (and hot chocolate).
She phoned me the next morning. "I just wanted to make sure you got home."
I laughed. "Katniss, I live three buildings away from you." I was touched by her concern, by her awkward attempt to reach out to me. "How are you feeling today?"
"Ugh," she moaned. "Better not to ask." But I could hear her smile down the phone line.
"Let me take you out for breakfast. Sae's is my super secret hangover cure." I expected she'd brush me off, but she surprised me.
I picked her up 20 minutes later. We chatted over breakfast, and then stayed for lunch. It was like we were packing 13 years of discussion into one glorious day. I never wanted it to end. Katniss was everything I always imagined she'd be: intelligent, interesting, insightful. And she was unexpectedly funny, sassy and sarcastic.
I was a goner.
The first fingers of fall pressed into us as we wandered the campus, hand in hand. She suggested the coffee shop, though neither of us liked coffee.
Hands warmed, cheeks flushed we ended up at her dorm again. And as she stared up at me with silver eyes shining I thought of all of the kisses we'd missed out on over the years. I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass me by. Not this time.
"Katniss..." I paused, suddenly inexplicably shy, even after hours of comparing family histories and favourite colours. She stepped closer, biting at the smile that threatened to steal across her perfect peach lips.
Then her hand was fisting my collar, pulling me down, and our lips were meeting in the most searingly perfect collision of soft and firm and wet and hot.
She explored my mouth methodically and my tongue eagerly met hers stroke for stroke. When her hands twisted in my hair I pressed her back against her dorm room door, cradling her face in my hands, pouring every minute of longing into our kiss. Her body moved with mine in a primal dance, even as we spoke our mutual desire into each other.
When we finally broke apart she smiled up at me with swollen lips and pupils blown wide. "I've wanted to do that for years," I confessed, gasping before she kissed me again.
"Was it worth the wait?" she whispered against my lips, a chocolate scented tease. I moaned.
"Yes, so worth it. But I don't want to wait that long to kiss you again," I begged, my forehead pressed to hers, our lips still brushing languidly.
"Then I guess you'd better come in," she said with a laugh, tugging me after her.