This takes place after Katniss and Peeta were on the beach and Katniss said that she needed him. Super excited about this one! Enjoy, and as always, reviews are welcome. Sadly, Hunger Games is not mine.
He didn't know that as she caressed the pearl that he had given her in her hand as she lied on top of his chest that she was thinking of the painting he had drawn of Rue. If he had known, maybe he wouldn't have these bitter thoughts running through his head. It was dark, but still relatively early. Peeta and Katniss had decided to get a few hours' rest since the plan didn't take place until midnight. They wanted to make sure that they were alert and ready for whatever happened after the plan.
He wasn't sure when he'd become bitter. That's the concept he was trying to grasp as he laid there, in the dark, Katniss on his chest. He tried to fight it when those thoughts possessed his soul, but it became harder and harder. He couldn't help but resent it… resent all of it.
He didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't sure how to turn these feelings off. What was she doing to him? Why was she doing it?
And why was he allowing her to?
Their kiss lingered in his mind, and on his lips. It had been different, in the stream, and on the beach.
She had told him she needed him.
And he believed her.
But then again, he'd believed her once before.
Like a fool he'd believed it all. Really thought she'd loved him. She'd lied to him, on more than one occasion, the last time on the Victory Tour when she had told him about Snow threatening her.
And the kiss. She'd told him about the kiss she'd shared with Gale.
He had felt betrayed, but he knew he had no right to feel so. She had told him, hadn't she? She had finally been honest with him on their way home, telling him it was all an act.
Only it wasn't.
Did he not know her? Did he not know her better than herself? Oh, she loved him, all right. He was just a reminder of the Games. He couldn't blame her. He understood it. She wanted to escape, and what better way to do so than to run into the arms of her best friend? Not him, not the one who had experienced the same exact things as she had.
And that's why he felt betrayed. Because who would better understand than him?
And now here she was, lying on his chest, kissing him, and he couldn't find it in himself to think that he was the luckiest man in the world for a second time, despite being back in the Games, Katniss's scratches she gave him from the stream still fresh on his back.
Did she know that it'd have been her voice he would have heard when the jabberjays attacked for an hour? While she heard Prim and Gale, he'd have heard hers. Only hers….
They'd comforted each other countless times. It seems like more so now than they had during the first Games. They fought, too. He'd been angry and upset when he learned that Snow had threatened her and she hadn't bothered to confide in him. Yet it was she who had comforted him in his anger.
The same day he'd agreed to marry her he slipped in her bed—like so many nights before— and she had joked—joked—that they should get used to this since they were going to be husband and wife. Perhaps sensing that he wasn't amused, she had quietly thanked him, telling him she understood that this wasn't easy for him.
He hadn't responded to that, either, because he hadn't had anything to say, really. That was when the bitter thoughts had really started. Was he really supposed to spend the rest of his life with a woman who felt nothing for him? Or who was too in denial to realize she cared?
Because he was afraid there would be no other woman for him…. He, like his dad, was a goner, but he, unlike his father, would not settle for a loveless marriage…. Not even to Katniss Everdeen….
Though, she did love him.
She was just too damn stubborn to admit it.
And oblivious. Completely and utterly clueless.
His thoughts switched to her in that wedding dress. Damn the reason for the dress. He had never seen her look so stunningly beautiful. Once again he felt compelled to wonder how she was so perfect. He'd told the world that they'd already gotten married, and that she was carrying his baby. And when he had asked her if he'd been wrong, to lie, she'd told him no….
Because she was the mockingjay. She was forbidden love personified. He'd been sick with it, his infatuation with her. It had never been plainer than then, on that stage, watching her transform. She was the rebellion, the Girl on Fire, and he… Jesus, he was head over heels in love with her.
And how in the hell was he supposed to stop it?
For he had to stop it. He couldn't keep living like this, in this constant pain and confusion. Though he shouldn't be confused. Clearly she preferred Gale. She'd chosen Gale.
Then she had kissed him today, on the beach, and he was lost.
Because it felt different. More different than any kiss they'd shared. It was almost like the kiss in the cave. That kiss had offered Katniss her first glimpse of how she felt about him, but she'd pushed it aside. But that kiss was but a candle flame compared to the volcanic eruption that was the kiss on the beach was today.
What was she doing to him? And how was he supposed to overcome it?
He felt her shift and suddenly she was looking at him.
"Peeta, what is it?" she whispered into the night.
"What do you mean?" He kept his voice indifferent.
"I know you. You can fall asleep in the blink of an eye. We've been lying here for twenty minutes and you're clearly restless."
He wanted to tell her that he was fine, that everything was okay, but suddenly he was so tired of pretending.
"I just want to be alone right now," he told her, almost coldly, shocking himself even. He felt her stiffen but instead of reassuring her he shifted so that she was off of him and stood up, walking away without saying a word.
He should have known he'd follow her. He'd gotten several yards away when he felt her presence.
"What's wrong, Peeta?" He ignored her; just kept walking. She repeated the question.
"Leave me alone, Katniss."
She was stubborn, and she wouldn't be Katniss, wouldn't be the woman he loved, if she just listened. When she finally caught up to him and touched his shoulder he rounded on her.
"Don't touch me," he said icily.
She stared at him, her blue-grey eyes filled with shock.
"Peeta, what is it? It's me. It's Katniss."
"I know who you are. Who you are is the problem."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He bit his tongue as he stared at her, the wind softly blowing her hair around her face. For a few moments they stood there in silence while he debated whether or not he would answer.
"Peeta." It was that word, that simple plea, the same tone she used when he was inside of her, that undid him.
"I can't do this anymore," he snapped out quietly, walking towards her so that he wouldn't have to shout. He didn't want everybody to hear this.
"Do what?"
"This," he said, pointing to them. "Us. Pretending. It's driving me crazy." She made to open her mouth but he didn't let her talk. "Shut up." His coldness was scaring even him. "I poured my heart out to you. Told you about my dad, and that I've been in love with you since we were kids. And you got on the train, bruises still fresh on your face, and told me I meant nothing to you. And here you are, taking from me and I'm telling you now, Katniss, I can't take it. I can't do it again. I can't take the lies and the pretending. The sex…" his voice trailed off as a flash of her arching her back flickered into his mind, but he pushed it away. "It's amazing. It's everything. I could probably deal with that. But the bullshit? The 'I need you Peeta—' he mimicked her high pitched voice, "bullshit has got to stop."
He took a deep breath as he waited for her to respond.
"You think I'm lying." It was a question, but it was also a statement.
"It wouldn't be the first time." It was an accusation as much as it was truth.
"Peeta," she said softly. She stepped closer to him and he backed away. Hurt filled her eyes for one brief moment but then it cleared away. That was his Katniss. Always the strong one, the Girl on Fire, even when she didn't want to be. "I deserve that," said Katniss. Then, in a bold move, she stepped to him again, her hand once again outstretched. This time he didn't move. He was lost in that steel grey-blue of her eyes, and the tenderness—not love, necessarily, but tenderness, tenderness he'd never seen before. She stroked his cheek. "I've said a lot of things to win these Games. But I meant it. I genuinely meant it, Peeta, you have to know that."
Why did he believe her?
And when her lips touched his it was with a feather-light touch.
This time it was him who crushed his mouth to hers, suddenly realizing he was a fool in love, and needed her like air. Who cares? He'd probably die anyway. And if he did, he wanted to die knowing she knew how much he loved her.
They were in a deserted meadow, and it couldn't be more symbolic. They would be well hidden, though if the cameras wanted to zoom in on them, they could. He didn't care. There were no cameras in his mind.
Just him and Katniss.
This time it was slow. There was no rushing, no fire. No, this time it was a simmer. He helped her down on the ground and he followed suit. She lied on her back and he immediately kissed her, his hands in her thick hair.
She smelled good. Well, probably not good, but she smelled like Katniss, so that meant she smelled good. His lips were on hers until she finally pushed him away, gasping for air. He took this opportunity to nibble on her ear. He wasn't sure that was such a good idea as she inhaled sharply. He doubted very much that she could catch her breath.
He left her ear and planted kisses along her neck. He felt her arms wrap around his neck as she arched her body into him. He felt himself grow hard at the contact. He made his way back to her lips again and this time she was ready for him. She hungrily parted his lips with her tongue and let out a soft moan.
Without breaking their kiss he started to unzip her jumpsuit. Her breath quickened, and he could feel her heartbeat speed up. They broke apart long enough for him to finish unzipping her. She shrugged out of the suit, their eyes locking when her hips lifted and she was able to finally take the entire suit off.
This time he stared at her. He took in every feature, every freckle, every follicle. She blushed prettily at the intensity of his gaze, but he didn't stop. She was beautiful in her nakedness, with her full, firm, breasts, toned arms, and long, long, lean legs that were always so silky smooth when she wrapped them around his waist.
When he got his fill she lifted herself so that she was eye level with him.
"My turn," she said huskily.
He thought he might die in that moment.
She showered him with the same attention he had shown her, kissing his lips, ears, and neck. She ran those fingers, those strong, slim fingers, made for letting arrows fly, through his hair, and he heard himself moan at the contact.
He loved it, loved her, loved every moment of this. He forgot about the doubts, the fears, the hurt, the pain, the Games, the other tributes. Once again it was just him and Katniss.
She started unzipping his jumper a lot quicker than he had done hers. Perhaps she was recognizing, as was he, how desperately they wanted to touch each other. She didn't wait until his jumper was completely removed. While he started unzipping his own jumper her hands touched his chest, her nails lightly scratching him down to his torso.
He grabbed her hands, breathing hard. "If you don't want this to end quickly, you'll stop that now." She looked up at and saw the heat in his eyes. She nodded her understanding then climbed on top of him the minute his jumpsuit was off. He barely had time to inhale at the contact before her mouth covered his.
He flipped them over so that he was on top. She gasped when his mouth made its way to her breast. She arched into him, whispering his name as the pleasure took over.
When her hands started to roam and came into contact with his length his breath literally caught in his throat and he forgot how to breathe. He cursed softly, then stuttered out her name when she gripped him.
He became dizzy when she rose up and kissed him.
Breaking away she eyed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Inside me. Now. Please." He nodded, only too happy to oblige. He slipped inside of her, moaning at how wet she was for him.
It wasn't frenzied like the first two times. No, it was slow, and passionate, and tender. He could feel her breasts jiggling against his chest with every impact of his strokes, for they were deep and long; he very nearly pulled all the way out before slamming himself back into her.
His name was on her lips again, and it had never sounded more beautiful.
When he heard that high pitched whimper he'd grown accustomed to, he knew she was about to cum. He kissed her, heightening the orgasm as she couldn't verbally release the pleasure.
When the first wave of pleasure passed she arched her back into him. He heard a growl escape out of his mouth and said her name. She lifted herself up, meeting his trusts still, until the two of them were upright. Her legs entertwined around his hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into is shoulder. He gripped her hips and kept thrusting, not even recognizing the sounds coming out of his own mouth. He could still feel her breasts jiggling against him.
"Peeta," whispered Katniss. She arched her back and he heard that familiar whimper. He pulled her back so that he could watch her as she came. She threw her head back and cried out into the night as the orgasm hit her. She looked incredible, with her hair flowing behind her like a dark waterfall.
Her lips crushed his when her orgasm subsided.
"Make me cum again," she demanded in his ear. She pushed away so she could stare into his eyes. Blue eyes met blue-grey as he slid in and out of her. "Will you make me cum again?"
"Yes," groaned out Peeta. "God, yes. Always yes."
She cupped his face with her hands as he sped up.
The words were on the tip of his tongue when they came together. He'd had given anything but his soul or her life to be able to utter them. He'd have meant it, too, if he had said it.
Instead he called out her name, repeatedly, until the orgasm passed.
Breathing hard he reluctantly let her go. She kissed him before he could even fully catch his breath. She stared into his eyes and brushed his locks out of his face.
"I don't just need you for this," Peeta," she told him. "I meant what I said. I need you."
He believed her. Not enough to say the words that were so readily on his lips.
But maybe one day, one day soon, he'd be able to tell her that he loved her and she'd answer back.
"We should get back," said Peeta after several moments of silence.
"Not yet," she responded. "Just let me continue to enjoy this moment, with you." She slithered back on top him, but as they were clothed now it didn't have the same affect. He did feel himself harden as she started to unzip her jumper again. She smiled. "Easy, boy," said Katniss with a smile. "I wanted to show you something."
She lowered her zipper then grasped something around her neck. She held up the medallion he had given her only a few short hours ago. He felt his stomach sink.
"I wanted you to see this." She took it off of her and opened it so that it was facing her. Then she turned it around so that he could see.
He stared, stunned, and completely speechless.
The picture of Prim and her mother was still there, crystal clear, even in the night.
But the picture of Gale was gone.
"Maybe now you'll believe me," she told him smugly. She climbed off of him and stood up, but he stayed rooted to where he was, still shocked. She laughed. "Come on, Peeta. If we leave now we might still have time to rest before they need our help."
Peeta finally got up as Katniss started to walk away. Before she got too far he grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him, and his lips once again covered hers.
"I love you," he said breathlessly when they pulled apart.
She smiled at him, smiled brilliantly. "I know," spoke Katniss softly. She kissed him quickly and headed back towards the group.
She didn't say she loved him back. But that was an upgrade, because at least now she wasn't lying.
He walked back to camp with Katniss happier than he'd ever been.