This is my submission for the Christmas challenge at promptsinpanem on tumblr! I've super excited for you guys to read this, it's been a bit of a pain, but a joy to write :) It might just be my favourite thing I've ever written! Merry Christmas those of you who celebrate it, and to those who aren't, Happy December!
If Gabriella 'Glimmer' Javier doesn't shut up about 'her brave beau, who's serving his country but is missed back at the estate' I swear, I'm going to stand up from this chair, stalk across the circle, and strangle her with her over-priced, over-straightened hair extensions.
Of course, this wouldn't fair with anyone, mostly me. And I'm sure that if Peeta found out, he'd be sorely disappointed in me.
But Christmas is mere weeks away now, which means that Peeta will be flying back for three weeks so that he can be here with his family, friends and myself over Christmas and New Year. It also means that I'll get at least a month's break from this damn Military Misses club. For this reason and this reason alone, today is not the day that I'm arrested for murder.
It was Madge and Johanna who dragged me out to my very first meeting. They said that I'd grown 'distant' and 'despondent' and 'depressed' – the three d's that Jo kindly told me I didn't need.
"The only 'd' you need is dick, and since you sure as hell aren't getting any of that while Peeta's being a hero, you're coming with us."
And so, I went to my first meeting.
Eight women aged between 19 and 30, all with their significant other or child or sibling in the military, sitting in a circle for two hours so they can cry, laugh (supposedly) and check each other's nails until their loved one comes home.
It's meant to be therapeutic. It's designed to keep us sane. I guess it has, in the long run.
Without it, the only human contact I would have would be with the television, Sae, my neighbour, and whoever was checking out my groceries at the store.
Prim can't call because of the work-you-to-the-bone schedule she has training to be a doctor. Mom won't call. Dad can't, obviously, since he's buried eight feet under the ground.
Peeta was deployed along with Gale, Madge's husband and my childhood and therefore life-long buddy, seven months ago. This is the longest I've gone without seeing my boyfriend face to face in a long time. Skype calls aren't the same. The connection is shitty even at the best of times. Letters are exactly that – a mess of letters on a piece of paper.
Both of the boys are in the US Marines, serving their country in Afghanistan. It's dangerous. It's stressful for both them there and us back home. It's terrifying not knowing whether or not the next time I open the door, Haymitch or some other soldier will be standing there, their heads bowed, their eyes filled with sympathy. A letter in their hands.
Killed in action, it'll read. Or maybe I'll be given a little hope if it says missing in action, presumed dead.
'We tried, Katniss,' Haymitch would say, unsure of how to react himself, nevertheless how to comfort me. 'He lost too much blood. It was a danger to the rest of the unit to stay any longer.'
The only thing that could be worse was if I was told that he had sacrificed himself. Honourable, of course, but selfish. If I was never again to hear his voice, his laugh, his whispers in the dark. If I was never again to run my fingers through his hair. If I was never to press kisses to every single centimetre of skin on his body.
If was never to hold him for just one last time and hear his heart beating, strong and fast and alive.
Those are just some of the fears I have daily. It's a struggle, but with the support of my sister and friends (and the group, I guess) I've managed to survive this long without going into total meltdown mode. Of course, I've had my moments, but I haven't been locked away or put on drugs quite yet.
"It's just, like, he's so handsome. And I can't stop thinking about him – whether he gets back home or not, whether he'll be okay," Glimmer sighs, clutching at her bedazzled iPhone 5S with her perfectly manicured fingers. I look down at my chewed, chipped nails and grimace.
"I think about him so much, in fact, that it makes it hard for me to concentrate on the things I have to do every day." Glimmer says, staring wistfully up at the tiled ceiling.
Things you have to do?! You live on an estate with a gazillion servants. You don't do anything except shop, gossip, and get your nails done at your home-spa. I think to myself, bitterly.
Madge kicks the leg of my chair and gives me a stern look, though I can see the amusement in her eyes. She can read my mind, I'm sure.
I look to Johanna. She rolls her eyes and mimics Glimmer, smacking her lips silently before miming shooting herself. I smirk.
"Do you have something to say to me, Johanna?" Gabriella says, her eyebrows arched.
Instantly, the entire group sits ramrod straight and waits for a fight. The last time there was a scuffle, a plate of cookies was wasted and someone's handbag strap broke. It was a massacre, I'm telling you.
"Oh, not really," Johanna says, drawing out the last word and smiling. "I just think that you're being a little insensitive and well… bitchy."
"Excuse me?" Glimmer gasps, her grip on her cell tightening. "How dare you-"
"Look, we're all in the same position here. All of us has someone out there fighting with guns and bombs and shit. I know that," Jo says, waving her hand in the air in a regal gesture. "I know it's hard. I know it's tiring. But it isn't as tiring as it listening to you witter on about how difficult it is living in a mansion with people waiting on you for the moment you break you nail."
The entire room is silent. Marissa Fox across the circle in practically bouncing with anticipation. "Honestly, Cato is stationed in Canada. The rest of us have loved ones in way worse places like that. I'm not saying that it's any less stressful, but you've got it a lot better than most of us."
"Cato has been through a lot. He's only in Canada now because he was shot in Kenya by some insane rebel!" Glimmer snaps.
"And I sympathise with that!" Johanna hisses back, narrowing her eyes. Uh-oh. I can see where this is going. Johanna is going to throw a fit, reveal something she didn't want to reveal, and then Gabriella is going to storm out. In the meantime, Effie has literally been gone to the bathrooms for just thirty seconds and all hell has broken loose.
"But now he's safe and on the same continent as you are! Meanwhile, Darius and my kid brother are fighting Iraq. Both of them have been shot at multiple times! I have to deal with a brother who's seen too much for a nineteen year old, and a fiancé who can't even pop popcorn in the microwave without being reduced to tears! So you can fuck off with your complaining, please." Jo slumps back into her seat and exhales loudly. I pass her a donut from the buffet table to my right.
"I've got a meeting to attend." Glimmer sniffs, standing and walking stiffly away.
"By Gabby!" Marissa calls, knowing that Gabriella hates being called Gabby.
"Blimey, Mason," Delly says, clapping her hands. I don't mind Delly. She's on my side about Glimmer, but her sunny demeanour is a little too happy.
Annie shakes her head and takes a sip of her coffee. I met Annie on my fourth meeting. I was immediately drawn to her calm and quiet nature. Over several plates of biscuits and coffee, we managed to figure out that Peeta and Finnick, Annie's fiancé were in the same unit. It took some sleuthing and multiple letters before we figured out that Peeta and Finn shared the same bunk beds, in fact, and were best friends.
This of course resulted in Annie and I forming an unbreakable bond. While Johanna is just brash and loud, Madge is polite and a lightweight. Annie is a just as good drinker as she is friend. She knows when to help, when to stand back, and when to let Johanna do her thing.
I've only met Finnick once, and that was during a Skype call with Peeta. I had heard Peeta's name being called from somewhere outside of the camera frame, Peeta held up a finger in a 'wait a minute' gesture, and the look on his face when a tanned torso strolled into view was priceless.
"Talkin' to your lady friend, huh? Don't you have any time for me?" Finn had said, turning and sitting down beside Peeta. He immediately began pouting when he saw my face on the screen of the computer.
"Kat, this is Finnick. Finn, my girlfriend Katniss."
"Nice to meet you at long last," Finnick had said, giving me a winning smile. "You're the one who's been stealing Peeta-bread away from me."
"Uh…" I had floundered, blushing red as I shifted in my seat. Peeta looked pissed off, but the friendly elbow to ribs he gave Finn was enough to say that he wasn't really annoyed. "Peeta-bread?"
"Yeah. It gets pretty lonely out here without my Annie. Peeta helps me stay sane," Peeta had dropped his head into his hands then and Finnick had winked at me.
"I understand," I had nodded in amusement. "How long were you going to go until you told me about this, Peeta?"
"Well, it's a difficult situation to explain over letters."
"You haven't talked about me?" Finn had asked, feigning shock. "I thought I meant way more to you!"
"Yeah, well…" Peeta had shrugged, giving me an exasperated look. I buried my face in a couch pillow and laughed.
"I'll have to change your mind about me later," Finnick had said. "Katniss, dear, hopefully I'll get to meet you someday. Until then, farewell. And don't worry about Peeta. I've got everything under control." Finnick had stood up then, a towering mass of bronzed muscles, and had trailed the back of his hand over Peeta's cheek.
"I didn't know you were into that sort of thing as well, Peeta." I had told my boyfriend. Peeta gave Finnick, who I assume was still in the room, the middle finger and faced me.
"Neither did I," he had replied. "Finnick Odair. He's a riot."
When Effie returns a minute later, we've moved on to talking about what we're looking forward to over Christmas.
"Where's Gabriella gone?" Effie (the leader and creator of Military Misses) asks.
"She said something about a hair appointment," Johanna shrugs.
"Oh, my. Shame she has to miss the rest of the session."
I nudge Johanna and squeeze her arm consolingly.
"You okay?" Madge asks softly.
"Yeah, I'm good," Jo nods. "I'm good."
We leave it at that, knowing its best not to press the issue.
Everyone has their demons, and their way of fighting it. We have to respect that. That does include Gabriella, but not all the time. She's just a little too… her for me to handle.
"Marc is coming back for two weeks over Christmas break," Marissa says, pulling me out of my thoughts. "I'm so excited. We always go down to the District 7 Lumber Centre and choose a tree from there. It's so much to decorate it and everything."
"We used to do that," Delly says. "But Thom is allergic to real trees. We have a fake one."
"Did you see the huge tree that they've put up in the town centre?" Madge asks, her eyes wide. "I think it's more decorations that actual tree." The group laughs and Effie purses her lips.
"Ladies, since next Tuesday's meeting is going to be the last one of this year, I thought that we could do something Christmassy. Therefore, I propose we have a bake-off style meeting next week. The end products can be a gift for your soldiers!"
"I'm up for that!" Delly grins.
"Me too," Madge grins. "Gale loves gingerbread!"
"I don't see why not," Marissa grins.
I grimace. I can't cook to save my life. I've gotten better because I don't have Peeta here, so I've sort of been forced to take control and learn to cook. I still burn toast and I've gotten food poisoning once or twice – but I'm better than I was. Still, the idea of having to cook in front of these people without setting someone or something on fire is daunting.
Regardless, Effie's plan goes ahead.
Madge picks me up in her pink Mini and drives me to Effie's home. It's a large house, though not as expansive as I'm sure Gabriella Javier's estate manor is. By the time we arrive, everyone else is already seated in Effie's kitchen, aprons tied and sleeves rolled up.
"Welcome, welcome. I think this is going to be a blast, ladies. Therapeutic and rewarding!" she says, her pink hair perfectly arranged about her head. Her apron is covered in sequins that glitter as she walks. I notice that Glimmer isn't present.
Delly decides to make a chocolate cake for her boyfriend, Thom.
Madge makes gingerbread cookies.
Marissa makes chocolate chip and honey cookies that spread out over the tray to form a mega-cookie that she has to hack at with a knife to break apart (much to the enjoyment of the group).
Effie makes some sort of banana and jam thing.
Annie make cupcakes with blue icing, and Effie finds some fish and shell shaped candies to put on top.
Jo makes a huge mess, attempting to mix flour and sugar and butter without it eneding up on the ceiling. The multi-layer more-icing-than-sponge concoction she ends up with is impressive nevertheless.
And I flounder about for half an hour before settling on making the gooiest, most fattening brownies on the planet. Peeta's always been a sucker for brownies.
"Are you trying to give him a heart attack?" Delly asks as I mix a second cup of miniature marshmallows into my bowl.
"Maybe it'll stop him from heading back out there again," I say. "I'll make him put on so much weight that he'll be stuck here."
"I've tried," Marissa laughs. "It hasn't worked yet."
While our food cools, we gather in the lounge of Effie's house with hot tea and Love, Actually, playing in the back ground. I sit back in my seat.
In exactly five days' time, I'll be standing in the airport, waiting for Peeta's flight to come in. The entire Military Misses group will be there, holding various signs, possibly children, and trying not to vomit in anticipation.
And then some bored voice will announce over the tannoy system that their flight has arrived and then we'll catch sight of them walking towards us. And then he'll be back.
With his smile, with his love, with his presence. And he'll be safe with me. Safe for just a little bit longer. I'll be able to sleep soundly with him beside me. I'll be able to stop worrying. I'll be able to-
"Katniss?" Effie asks. "What do you think?"
"Huh?" I blink, brought back to reality. I blush. How long was I sitting here, lost in my own head?
"I want to surprise Thom," Delly says, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright.
"Why?" I ask.
"Fucking hell, brainless!" Johanna exclaims.
"No…" I shake my head. "Sorry."
"I'm pregnant!" Delly bursts out. "That's why I want to surprise him!"
The entire group turns their attention to Delly, who's looks like she's on the edge of breaking down into tears
"Oh my God! Delly!" Madge squeals, clapping her hands and moving over to hug the other blonde. "Congratulations!"
"When did you find out?" Effie asks.
"A few days ago! I wasn't sure, so I decided it was better to be safe than sorry. I took a test and… well, I'm pregnant!"
"When are you due?" Marissa asks.
"Late May!" Delly grins.
"How about hiding a scan or the pregnancy test in a card or something? Johanna suggests, tucking her impossibly long legs under herself.
"I thought about that, but I don't want to go to anything hospital-ly without Thom. And it could be a bit gross if a plastic stick with my pee on it is in his greeting card." Delly explains. Effie chokes on her tea.
"I've got an idea," I speak up, watching as Liam Neeson and Thomas Brodie-Sangster bond on screen. "You should ice 'Welcome home, Daddy' on the cake."
"That's a great idea, Katniss. Thanks!" Delly gasps, leaping to her feet.
We gather around Delly as she write in wobbly letters the message. I lean my hip on the counter top. Peeta is a natural when it comes to baking. He'd be able to ice perfectly shaped letters onto the cake blindfolded going at 150 miles per hour.
Personally, I think that there could be nothing worse than being pregnant with your husband or fiancé or boyfriend or whoever on duty. The thought of being pregnant is frightening enough, but being pregnant and worrying about someone else at the same time? No way. I wouldn't be strong enough to do that.
I'd be afraid of being left to raise a child by myself. I'd be afraid that Peeta would never meet his son or daughter and that they would never meet their father. What if Peeta couldn't be there for the birth? What if he missed important milestones like their first words or first steps?
I'm not even married yet. Peeta and I were friends for about three years before we started dating. I know that he wants the whole white-picket-fence house and to get married and have children, but I don't want any of that until he's permanently back here, safe and sound. I don't even know if I will ever want it.
Shaking my head, I try to focus on the now. I'm only twenty three. I need to enjoy being young instead of worrying continuously.
It's the middle of the afternoon when I finally depart with Madge, holding the box of brownies tightly against my chest. It's stopped snowing at long last but a frigid wind has blown in, whipping up the top layers of snow and whistling around the car.
"I guess I'll see you at the airport then?" Madge says as we park outside Peeta and mine's apartment.
"Yeah. See you then." I grin and Madge hugs me.
"Are you okay? You seemed a little down when Delly told us that she was pregnant."
"I'm alright. I just think it's a little… uh, a little foolish. Why would she want to have a baby with Thom fighting out there?"
"Kat, I think that the problem you have is that you're afraid of things going wrong," Madge says gently. I frown. "Trust me, I'm always worrying about Gale's safety," she looks down, twisting her wedding band around her finger wistfully. "But I don't let it stop me from wanting to do things like that."
"Are you pregnant?" I asks, my eyes wide.
"No! At least, not at the moment," Madge laughs. "But if I do end up in the same position as Delly, I'm not going to let fear control me. I'd like to start a family before I'm thirty, and Gale… he loves it out there. He doesn't want to leave for quite some time. I doubt he'll ever leave."
"Wouldn't you be afraid of him not coming back?" I ask, thinking of the dark-haired, olive-skinned best friend who patted me on the cheek before he left with for Iraq.
"I'd rather have a little of him in my life than nothing but a grave," Madge shrugs. I look away. Madge exhales loudly and laughs again before speaking. "Okay, this got a little heavy. I shall see you at the airport, Katniss. Don't crack up until then, alright?"
"I'll try my best," I say sarcastically.
"There ya' go." Madge says. I roll my eyes and climb out of her car, waving goodbye and turning to dash up the path as soon she's disappeared around the corner.
I'm woken by the sound of the phone ringing. Bleary-eyed and covered in Cheetos that have fallen out of the packet when I fell asleep on the couch, I stumble towards the wireless and pick it up to see the caller ID. It's Peeta's unit.
I'm immediately awake. Despite myself, I immediately jump to conclusions. My heart skips a beat and I press the 'answer call' button.
"He-" I cough and clear my throat. "Hello?"
"Kat?" Peeta's voice is sharp and clear. I slump against the wall and slide to the ground. He's okay. Calm down.
"Peeta," I breathe. "Hey."
"Did I wake you? I thought it was only like eleven. I hoped you'd be awake still."
"No," I say, smiling into the darkness. "I've just had a tiresome day with the girls."
"Glimmer causing trouble?" Peeta asks.
"Oh, no. Johanna put her in her place last week."
"I bet," Peeta chuckles. The line goes silent for a while. "How are you, Kat?"
"I've been good. It's freezing over here. When you come back we'll have to go build a snowman or something."
"That sounds good."
"How've you been?" I ask. "Finn still treating you right?"
"I'm okay. It's been a rough few days, actually. Tension building and such. Abernathy's been running us ragged every morning with drills and new information every day."
"Isn't he always?"
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"Why are you calling then? Is everything okay?" I ask. Peeta is silent I hear shouting in the background. "I wasn't expecting a call until you arrived in the US."
"Yeah. Uh, there's been a change of plans," Peeta says. I can practically see him rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. I frown, my heart rate speeding up again.
"Peeta, are you okay?" I ask, wringing my hoodie in my hands. "You aren't hurt are you?"
"No! No, I'm fine," Peeta assures me. He pauses. "I just… I can't come back for Christmas."
No.
This can't be happening. I've been waiting and looking forward to seeing Peeta again for so long now. He has to come back, especially for Christmas. I made him brownies.
"What do you mean?" I ask, hating the way my voice breaks at the end of my sentence. "What do you mean you can't come back? Why?!"
"Katniss, please. It can't be helped. Trust me, I want to come back. With all my heart I want to be with you over the holiday," Peeta says in earnest.
"Peeta-" I whisper, scrunching my eyes tightly shut. "I need you here."
"But we can't get any plane out here. It's too dangerous. The rebels have been looking out for our aircraft. They're shooting down everything. We've lost three Apache helicopters and three soldiers already. We can't risk anyone going out."
"Why?" I ask, a single tear rolling down my cheek.
"Oh, God," Peeta whispers. "Please don't cry, Kat. Please don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't want you to cry."
"Peeta," I choke out.
"Katniss, it's okay. Haymitch is trying his hardest to get us out of here. He's going to try and organize something. If I can't get back in time, the next time I'll be able to get out is February!"
"But that's two months away! That's so long, Peeta! You promise me before you went that you would never be gone for that that long! You promised me!"
"I know I did! Kat, I love you, okay? Finn wants to get back to Annie. Every single soldier in this damn place wants to be able to leave, but right now, the risk of us being blown apart and taken prisoner if we survive is extremely high!"
"You don't understand!" I cry. "I can't stand it any longer. I need you back here right now!"
"Baby, I want to be back as well. Every night I wish that I could be with you. I hate that you have to be alone. But I'm trying, okay?"
"Okay," I tell him. I wipe at my eyes with my sleeve. "Please be safe. Please get back to me."
"I'm going to come back to you, Kat. You don't need to worry about that."
"I'm worried about you."
"I know you are. I can feel it."
"And it's so quiet here without you."
"Katniss, I'm sorry. But it's out of my control." Peeta says. I hug my arms around myself and bury my face in my knees.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Inhale, exhale.
"Sorry for yelling at you." I say.
"It's alright. I just like hearing your voice." Peeta chuckle. I feel the urge to punch him on the shoulder.
"I like hearing your voice as well."
"Good."
"I really want to hug you."
"I want to hug you," Peeta replies. "I want to kiss you until you pass out."
"That sounds fun," I joke, though the tug at my heart is real. "If you… if you do end up staying there over Christmas, you have to Skype me. Or at least call. And make sure Haymitch wears one of the paper hats from the crackers."
"I'll send you a picture."
"Thank you." I smile at the thought.
It's going to be okay.
"I miss you so much." Peeta says. "Finnick is just an annoying bunkmate. I mean, he's great. But he isn't the same. He misses Annie. Don't tell him I said that."
"He'll beat you up," I say. Peeta laughs. "But I miss you as well."
"You're eating aren't you? Doing things?"
"Yes."
"Kat?"
"I am! You should be more worried about if you're getting back here or not, not thinking about whether I'm stuffing my face or not. Which I am, by the way. I'm going to be the size of a whale the next time you see me."
"That would never happen. You've got the fastest metabolism ever."
"Shut up." I say, leaning my head back against the wall in the darkness.
"I love you."
"Please try to come back."
"I'll come back, Kat. I promise."
"I love you too then."
"Always?" he asks. The line begins to crackle.
"Always." I answer.
"Hopefully I'll be able to-" the line cuts in and out then, the signal reducing Peeta's words to buzzes.
"Peeta?" I say. "I can't hear you."
"K-a-a-a-t-"
"Peeta?" I say.
"Kat-niss?" Peeta's word breaks in the middle.
"Peeta the signal's going weird. Can you hear me?"
"Y- yo- you," I frown.
"Peeta?" I say again.
"Katnis-ss!"
"The line's gone crackly," I say, hoping he can hear me. "I love you!"
"I- I- I-I've-g-g-g-got to go."
I hear a bang, a hiss, Peeta trying to say my name, and then silence.
Immediately my throat closes up.
That banging sound. It was a bomb. It was gunfire.
That hissing sound. That was poisonous gas.
My name being called. That was Peeta's last words.
I clutch the phone to my chest and take a deep, shuddering breath. Peeta is fine. The phone lines have never been reliable. Even when I call Annie or Jo or Madge the signal can sometimes pop and hiss. It's fine. He's fine. I'm fine.
After what must be half an hour, I force myself to my feet, gulp down a glass of water, and get changed into Peeta's old wrestling shirt. It smells like him. I have three shirts that smell like Peeta, and I have a rotation of when I wear each one so that I can have his scent with me at all times. I've had to wash his pillow, so now it smells like me.
Switching the light out, I flop back against the pillows and bring the shirt up to my face so that it covers my mouth and nose. He smells like paints, the bakery, and the cologne he wears. It comforts me – slows my mind so that I can get to sleep.
Tomorrow I'll deal with the aftermath of realising that Peeta might not be back until February.
For the most, my sleep is empty. Silent. Free of dreams or nightmares.
It's exactly the same when Peeta is here, but the silence is peaceful, not eerie or echoing. I dream of Peeta. I dream of explosions and bombs and gunfire and his blue eyes shining through the dust. I dream of him trying to reach me and me running to him – both of us failing, blown up into smithereens, nothing but dust in the wind and smouldering bones.
I dream of bones. A ghost. A coffin with nothing in it. Empty prayers. Empty eyes.
The weak morning light that streams through my curtains is brightened by the snow outside. I crawl to the window and yank the curtains open, wincing at the new layer of snow that has fallen in the night. It's piled high against the glass.
It's smothering me.
Usually I listen to the radio of put the TV on while I'm eating breakfast just so there's background noise. Today, however, I sit in silence, spooning Cheerios into my mouth, my spine curved as I slouch in my seat.
Peeta isn't going to be here for Christmas. I picked out a tree a few days ago. It's sat in a bucket of water outside my apartment door.. I intended to bring it in so that Peta and I could decorate it together.
He's always been home for Christmas. He loves the holiday. He's all about hanging a wreath on the front door and greeting carollers with a smile while I glower in the background. He likes cooking a huge meal, and I like eating it. He likes giving presents. He likes giving the ducks at the pond in the park bread and smashing the ice with his boot so they can swim when it freezes over. He likes working at the bakery for the two hours that it's open on Christmas Eve so he can hand out free treats to children. He likes being with his family.
And I like being with him. I realise how selfish I've been. I let him do all the work.
Perhaps this is karma. Perhaps this is the Universe's way of telling me that I really am a selfish bitch who doesn't appreciate what she has until it's gone.
I sit on my ass for the next two days, eating microwave meals and ordering pizza from a delivery guy who wishes me a 'Merry Christmas' before trudging back into the snow. I listen to Christmas songs in the shower and sing shamelessly to Mariah Carey. Sae from next door stops by, tells me that my singing is beautiful, and hands me a homemade pudding before leaving.
After a day of deliberating, I finally haul the Christmas tree inside and set it up in the corner of the living room. I wrap lights around it and hang decorations up, before taking a picture of the tree to send to Peeta. I wrap the ugly sweater I bought for Peeta as a joke and stick it under the tree with the other presents that will go unopened.
In a moment of spontaneity, I head over to the bakery on Christmas Eve to help out since Peeta isn't there.
"Katniss!" Mr Mellark says, drawing me into a hug.
"Hey," I say, squeezing him back. "I'm here to help out."
"Good, we need it. I'm not as efficient as I once was, and I can't exactly get Rue or anyone else out here to help out."
And so, for the next two hours, I help the Mellarks at the bakery with the last minute Christmas rush. It's calming and rewarding process. I help out at the store front in the warmth, watching snow fall in flurries outside the huge glass windows. When the bakery finally closes, Peeta's father packs up a dozen immaculately iced cookies and sends me on my way.
"You're always welcome here, Katniss. If you want some company tomorrow or whenever, come over and you can celebrate with us."
"Thanks," I smile, pulling my hat on and waving to Peeta's mother and brothers. "Merry Christmas guys."
"You never know, he could just make it back in time." Mr Mellark says with a wink. I chuckle and head out into the snow.
As I walk to my car, I think about his words. It's unlikely, but I can still wish, can't I?
I wrap myself up in a blanket and crack open a tin of chocolates when I get home later that evening. I phone Annie, Madge, and Johanna to wish them a Merry Christmas. Gale, who's already home from Iraq, tells me that I have to come visit or they'll come to me.
"You can't be alone for Christmas, Catnip. But you're coming to the New Year party aren't you?" he says.
"You have to come, Kat!" Madge pipes up.
"I'll be there," I say with a smile.
To help me ignore the ache in my chest at how happy Madge and Gale are to be together for Christmas, I pour myself a drink and sit in front of the TV to watch the 'Top 100 Christmas Songs' countdown. I surprise myself at how many of the songs I actually know. I must fall asleep around number twenty eight, because the last thing I hear is Eartha Kitt singing.
I don't care about the presents… underneath the Christmas tree… I just want you for my own…more than you could ever know… make my wish come true… All it want for Christmas is….you…
It must be late when I jolt awake. I don't know what it is that wakes me, but the entire room is bathed in the golden lights from the sparkling Christmas tree. I blink. I have to stop falling asleep on the couch. It does nothing for my back. I swallow and shift slightly under my blanket. I hear something heavy-sounding being placed down on the floor with little grace, the sound of a zipper, and heavy footsteps.
My eyes snap open.
It couldn't be.
Could it?
I hear the sound of out-of-tune humming and sitting up. I hear running water. I climb to my feet and stumble towards the kitchen, the blanket trailing behind me.
Sure enough, there's Peeta. He' standing at the sink chugging a glass of water, still dressed in his cargo pants and heavy boots. His backpack sits on the floor, leaning against the cabinet doors. My shoulders slump. He's here. He's actually here. I rub my eyes, willing this not to be a dream.
His golden hair sticks up in all directions and glows in the soft light of the fairy lights I've strung around the top of the wall cabinets. His shoulders are just as broad as they were the last time I saw him. His ass still looks amazing. He plucks the miniature light-up snowman that sits on the sill of the kitchen window and chuckles softly. A lump forms in my throat.
He's here.
"Peeta?" I say, my voice breaking like it did during our phone call. He whirls around in surprise and a huge smile breaks over his face. "What are you doing here?" I ask, completely astounded.
"Haymitch managed to get us out at the last minute. I wanted to surprise you," he says.
"Oh my God!" I screech in probably the most unattractive way ever. I launch myself forward, dropping my blanket, and he catches me. I wrap my arms around and legs round him and bury my face in his shoulder. "You're here! You're actually here! Peeta!"
"Kat," he sighs, inhaling deeply as he pressed his nose into my tangled hair.
"How long have you been here?" I ask.
"I landed at the airport about an hour ago. I dropped Finn off at Annie's first, and then I stopped by my folks place. I've been here for about ten minutes."
"Oh my God!" I laugh, hugging him tighter. "I was so worried! The phone call cut out-"
"And you assumed the worst?"
"Well, yes! Annie and I were getting ready for spending Christmas without you and Finn! I thought something bad had happened!"
"Nothing happened," Peeta says, pulling back to smooth his thumbs over his cheeks. "That bang you heard was probably Finn – he tripped over a stack of containers and curses for about three hours afterwards because he stubbed his toe."
"I'm going to kill him. I was freaking out." I murmur. Peeta sits me up on the countertop. I lean forward and do what I've been wanting to do for months on end now.
I kiss him.
He's taken by surprise for some reason and makes strangled sound in the back of his throat before he joins in, kissing me back with just as much passion. I groan, pushing his shirt up and gripping him closer. He places one hand on the small of my back and the other on the back of my neck to keep me in place.
I gasp for air and he dips back forward, deepening the kiss. I whimper against him and he groans. I dig my nails into his skin. He kisses me harder. Give and take, give and take. I'm overcome with emotion and I begin to cry. Peeta feels the tears and pulls away.
"Why are you crying?" he asks, his eyes shimmering with tears of his own. His top lip quivers. I pull him back to me and sob openly into his hair.
"I just – it's been so long Peeta. I've missed you. I've missed this," I say, pressing kisses to his forehead, to his nose, to his chin, to every inch of his face. "I've been so lonely without you. I thought I wasn't going to see you until February."
"Neither did I!" Peeta chuckles.
And then he's crying as well.
"This is the best Christmas gift ever," I tell him. I think of the ugly sweater I bought him. It suddenly seems insignificant. I can't believe I spent time worrying about it.
"I love you, Kat. So, so, so much." Peeta whispers. I wipe away his tears.
"I love you too." I say, kissing him again.
"I love you more."
"Shut up."
"I do."
"Stop talking."
I kiss him again and again and again. He pulls me towards him and presses soft open mouthed kisses down my neck. I lead him to our bedroom and tug his heavy boots off. I rid him of his shirt. I place his dog tags on the bedside table. He pulls my hoodie over my head. My shirt follows; flung somewhere into the darkness.
Once we've rid each other of our clothes, I run a shower. I massage the knots in his back away and kiss his bare chest. He kisses me again, pressing his body against mine, a burning contrast against the cold tiles behind me.
And then, tired but content, I pull on one of his shirts and he pulls on his boxers and we collapse into our bed. The dip of mattress is welcome. The warmth he brings to the sheets is glorious. His arms wrapped around my body are comforting. I smooth my fingers over the burn marks and bullet wounds on his side that resulted from a particularly nasty conflict almost a year ago now that left him in hospital.
He rubs soothing circles over my arms. I find myself falling into a gentle sleep. The sound of him breathing relaxes me. I smile. He's safe. He's here. It's Christmas.