I have a lot of regrets in my life. Katniss Everdeen is the biggest.
I don't regret her, not at all. The 5 ½ months we dated in college were the best of my entire life. She was so sweet and smart and sexy. Damn she was sexy. I felt like a million bucks with her on my arm.
But 20 year old Peeta, well, he was kind of an insecure asshole.
At the end of sophomore year, Katniss finally introduced me to her closest friend on the planet, and I realized that this 'Gale' she'd been talking about for almost six solid months was not, in fact, a girl. No, Gale was tall, dark and brooding, practically smoldering with sexuality. And when I watched him pick her up and swing her around, watched her beautiful face light up…
We were together a few weeks longer, but the damage was done. My jealousy painted our every interaction.
The final fight, if you could even call it that, consisted of me accusing her of dating me to pass the time while she waited for the one she truly wanted. She'd shaken her head at me, abject disgust in her mercury eyes, and told me that trust was the most important thing in the world to her, that we couldn't be together if I didn't trust her.
She made no attempt to refute my accusations, and 20 year old Peeta decided that meant they were true. I watched her walk away.
Life went on, I licked my wounds, dated other girls, tried to forget.
But I couldn't. Those quicksilver eyes, that glossy fall of raven hair, my dreams were full of Katniss. Sometimes I awoke in my dorm room, and later in my apartment, with her scent in my nostrils, her sighs hanging in the air.
Even now.
The jealousy that had hijacked my common sense faded quickly after we broke up, and I came to realize how incredibly wrong I'd been. But it was too late.
20 year old Peeta is long gone, in his place is 26 year old Peeta, still a little insecure but much wiser these days. And though I've made a life for myself, have a job I love, good friends, I still regret pushing Katniss away. 6 years later and I still ache for her.
Katniss has been on my mind more than usual, lately. Three weeks ago my big brother, Brann, called. He was seeing someone, in secret, and he was absolutely smitten, certain he'd found the one he was going to marry. So much so that he wanted to arrange a family dinner, to finally introduce us all. I'd never heard him so excited.
You can imagine my shock when I finally met Brann's new paramour. Ebony hair. Intense grey eyes that flickered with recognition and recrimination. My heart stopped, every vestige of oxygen left my lungs in a rush.
Brann was oblivious to my reaction, so intent was he on showing off his beloved. And they made a gorgeous couple, the contrast of pale and olive skin, the intermingling of gold and onyx as their heads bowed together. The adoration on their faces as they snuck shy glances at each other. No one could ever doubt the love there.
They got engaged just days later.
Six years ago I never could have imagined a day would come when my brother would be preparing to marry Gale Hawthorne.