One-Shot: Locking Lips Over a Rabbit

It is late evening when I reach the Hob. The illegal black market is just about ready to close up for the night. I start my rounds by making a small trade with Rooba, the butcher. Pilfering through the boxes of odds and ends on her stall, I come across a pendant that catches my eye.

"What's this?"

Rooba peers closer to examine my find. "That's a... mockingjay."

A mockingjay. The birds that my father used to echo in the woods on hunts when I was a little girl. The birds I learned to sing by. The piece of jewelry would make a fine present for my little sister, Prim, whose birthday is coming up soon. She has been begging me to help her get her ears pierced. Jewelry has never been something that interested me, and we could never afford it, even when I was Prim's age. This pendant might not be an earring, but it would be a nice enough gesture. Now there is only a matter of price...

"How much?"

Rooba ponders for a moment, and perhaps remembering the trade I've made with her, decides to turn it into a barter rather than a purchase. "You keep it. It's yours."

"Thank you," I say quietly. In a place as poor as District 12, and especially as poor as the Seam, any acts of altruism are not forgotten, sometimes for years to come. Poverty has an unusual way of banding people together.

My next stop is over at Greasy Sae's stall. She is one of the last vendors open tonight, but I have a good fawn I can trade with her. She examines my kill. "It will make a fine soup."

"Good pelt, too," I add, knowing what the raising of a few coins more could earn me.

Greasy Sae agrees to my asking price, though it is a little high. She goes into the back to store the Fawn. Across the way, I see Rooba finish cleaning up and totter outside. The place is deserted now, save me. Outside, I can hear crickets chirping to fill the silence.

Just then, the silence is also broken as a red-haired young man in white armor saunters into my line of vision. He props himself up against Sae's counter.

"Evening, Katniss."

"Hello, Darius," I nod.

Darius is probably the only Peacekeeper in District 12 who I enjoy being around. He looks to be no more than twenty, and unlike his comrades who are supposed to have deniability over what the Hob actually does, he thrives in its environment. He knows how to make a deal.

He's also known as a bit of a flirt.

"Now, what does a fine lady like you have for me?"

I shrug, pulling out one of the last two rabbits in my pack; I was hoping to trade one and have the other left over for Prim's and my dinner tonight. "I have this rabbit."

Darius takes the carcass and examines it. "Very nice," he muses. "Wonder what would be a good price for this?"

I shake my head. "Don't know."

"How about a kiss?" Darius grins, leaning in close and giving my braid a flirtatious flick. See what I mean about him being a flirt? "You give me dinner, I give you a nice, long goodnight kiss."

I laugh, smiling at this old joke between us. Darius has asked me for a smooch countless times before, and each time I have said No. But tonight, I flirt back a little. "That sounds tempting," I murmur.

"Darius! Are you bothering this poor girl again? Why don't you just grab her and suck her face and get it over with?" Greasy Sae chuckles as she emerges from the back, all closed up. "Good night, Katniss."

"Bye, Sae. Give my regards to your granddaughter."

"Sure, girl child." The old woman leaves, so that Darius and I are now alone in the Hob.

"So, how about it?" Darius floats again. "A rabbit pelt for a goodnight kiss?" He takes my hand with a smile.

I peer at him, amused. I have never kissed a man, nor have I ever been kissed before. In fact, I have never shown any interest in men, having seen how romantic love eventually destroyed the lives of my parents, literally killing them both: one instantly, the other agonizingly slowly. It is what has made me vow to never marry or have children, so as to not tie myself down and especially to not provide tributes for the cursed Hunger Games every year. Despite these misgivings, Darius is one of the few men in District 12 whom I actually wouldn't mind kissing. And perhaps I am curious to know what a kiss feels like. I actually find myself seriously considering his offer, his barter. I glance to the Hob entrance. He's never gonna let this go, is he? Besides, I really need to get home to Prim.

I shrug nonchalantly, and then nod. "All right. One kiss."

Darius beams, his eyes softening. He takes my face in his hands, the warmth of his palms flooding my cheeks. And then he closes his eyes and kisses me full on the mouth.

He tastes warm and wet, and smells like sweet honey. My Seam-grey pupils watch as his lips dance over mine for a moment, before I close my eyes and tentatively wrap my arms about his shoulders, returning the kiss, deepening it. He wanted to kiss me; I might as well sell it and kiss him back, right?

Darius embraces me, curling his arms around my slim waist and pulling me closer. His tongue now ghosts over my lips, asking permission to enter. Opening my mouth to him, even as I don't know exactly what to do, I let his tongue pass to tangle with mine. Having a man's tongue down my throat feels weird, but at the same time nice.

Our lips are now sealed, fused together. My one hand is now cupping Darius's cheek, my fingers playing with the nape of his neck. I am vaguely wondering how long good night kisses usually last when...

My game bag slips from my free shoulder and plops into the dirt, finalizing my return to the present. Softly, I press my other hand into Darius's chest and draw away, breaking the kiss, and he releases me.

"Good night, Katniss," he whispers.

"Good night, Darius. Um... thank you," I get out.

And gathering my game bag, I slip out into the night for home. Only when alone do I allow my tingling, flushed, kissed lips curve into a small smile.

Locking lips over a rabbit. Not a bad trade.