Right Beside Each Other
2: That's Going To Be Us
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games; all characters belong to Suzanne Collins.
A/N: Hi there, guys! I am so sorry for not updating sooner. I was very busy during my holiday break and had barely any time to write. I promise I will try to update sooner! Anyways, here's chapter two! It's not the best or the most exciting, but I need to lay out all the background story before the drama can start!
Enjoy! Please read and review :)
Katniss's POV
The sun is just beginning to rise when the sound of the alarm clock on the bedside table rouses me from a deep sleep. I feel Peeta stir beside me, and in a few seconds, the alarm stops. I expect Peeta to get up immediately because he's never late to the bakery, but he doesn't. Instead, he holds me tighter to his chest and places a kiss on my forehead. We remain like that for about five minutes before I feel him remove his arms from around me. I know he has to go to work, but I don't want him to leave. As he's about to get up out of bed, my eyes snap open and I grab one of his wrists. Peeta turns around and looks at me, his soft, rosy lips forming a smile.
"Don't go," I whisper, tugging on his wrist. I shudder softly as my bare skin comes in contact with the cool morning air. "It's cold."
Peeta chuckles as he falls back on the bed beside me and pulls me back into his embrace. In response, I snuggle deep into his side. He's nice and warm.
"Better?" he asks quietly, leaving kisses in my dark, silky hair.
"Much better," I answer, closing my eyes.
He laughs again softly as he runs his hand up and down my arm gently. "I'm going to have to get up in a few minutes, you know," Peeta says.
My response is a quiet grunt. "Yes, I know," I mumble against his chest, then press a kiss to it. "I just wish you didn't have to."
"Trust me, I wish that I could stay in bed with you all day, Katniss. Especially after last night," says Peeta with a smirk.
A subtle blush creeps over my cheeks and Peeta laughs. Yesterday, after he got home from the bakery, he and I sat down to dinner together. Surprisingly, Haymitch didn't show up, so I told Peeta all about how my appointment went with Dr. Keene. I didn't leave out a single detail. Despite how upset Peeta was that he wasn't able to go to the appointment with me, he was beyond happy when I told him that Dr. Keene confirmed the pregnancy and that our baby's due date is June 13th. So after dinner and some peach cobbler—which is my favorite pastry beside cheese buns—we spent the rest of the night "celebrating" the great news, and it was wonderful, which is why I want Peeta to stay as much as he doesn't want to leave for the bakery.
After a few more minutes of cuddles and kisses, both Peeta and I unwillingly climb out of bed. He shuffles to the bathroom to shower while I pull on a pair of long pants and a thick sweater and make my way downstairs. As I enter the kitchen, I shiver at the cold breeze wafting in through an open window. I shut it quickly and get started on a pot of hot tea. While I wait for the water to boil, my eyes wander to the calendar hanging on the wall beside me. It's the middle of October, which means that winter isn't too far away. I glance down at my flat stomach and think about how Peeta and I won't be able to hold our baby in our arms until the summertime.
October not only signals that winter is fast approaching, but it also marks a huge milestone in my life with Peeta. Tomorrow, October 17, is our tenth toasting anniversary. I smile to myself. It feels surreal that I've been blessed with Peeta as a husband for ten years already. It seems that just yesterday, we were scarred, broken, and almost irreparable from the Games and the War. Now we're strong and healthy, and I find myself falling more in love with Peeta every single day, if that's even possible.
I hear him coming down the stairs. Just as I'm finished pouring him a steaming mug of tea, he appears beside me. I hand Peeta his tea and place a kiss to his cheek.
"Are you going to hunt today?" he asks me before taking a small sip.
I drink some of my tea before answering. "I don't know. It's pretty chilly outside," I say. "I was thinking about going into town today, actually."
Peeta gulps down the rest of his tea and sets his cup in the sink. "For what?"
My main reason for wanting to go to town today is to find an anniversary gift for Peeta, but I can't tell him that because I want to make it a surprise, even though I get him a present every year. So instead I reply, "Well, I think Haymitch needs some groceries, and I need to buy some corn for those geese of his. He hasn't fed them in weeks."
"Alright, just make sure you bundle up, okay? I don't want you to get sick," Peeta says.
I grin at him. "I'll be fine."
Peeta glances down at his wristwatch. "I have to go. If you're still in town by the time the bakery closes, stop by so we can walk home together, okay?"
I nod, and then he kisses me goodbye. I watch as he puts on a coat and heads out the door. After he leaves, I decide to shower and put on some warmer clothes before going next door to check on Haymitch. He usually comes over for dinner every night, so the fact that he didn't show up yesterday has me a little worried, even though he was probably just too drunk to get up off of his rickety old sofa.
I pour what's left of the tea into an insulated thermos and put two cheese buns into a paper bag. After I cross from the kitchen to the front door, I slip on my father's hunting jacket and sling a small satchel over my shoulder. Then I leave the house, turn to my right, and head up the steps of Haymitch's front porch. I don't bother knocking, so I walk straight into the house. Like always, it reeks of liquor and rotten food. As soon as the smell hits my nose, my stomach begins to churn and I have to will myself to not throw up all over Haymitch's floor. When the nausea goes away, I make my way through the living room, the kitchen, and the study, and Haymitch is nowhere to be found.
"Haymitch?" I call out, hoping to get a response, but all I hear is the flock of geese waddling around in the backyard. I furrow my eyebrows in frustration. Haymitch is always either passed out on his couch or at a seat at the kitchen table. He rarely ever goes upstairs or outside.
"Haymitch, it's me, Katniss," I yell louder. "Haymitch?"
I jump a little when I hear a sudden noise come from upstairs. A few seconds later, Haymitch stomps down the stairs with his silver flask in his hand. I look him over to make sure he's okay. It seems like it. His long, blonde locks are oily and dirty, as usual. He's wearing the same clothes he had on when he came over for dinner two nights ago. The only odd things about him are that his skin has a light, yellowish tint to it and that it appears he's gained a few pounds, although Haymitch doesn't really eat anything except when he joins Peeta and me for dinner.
"Mornin', sweetheart," he slurs, slinking over to his sofa and plopping down on it.
"Morning," I say, sitting beside him. I hand him the cheese buns in the paper bag. As he chomps down into one, I unscrew the cap of the thermos and offer him some tea. He declines it with a shake of his head and takes a gulp of liquor instead.
"Feeling better?" he asks me.
I nod. "Yes, I do. I'm fine."
Haymitch scarfs down the second cheese bun. "Then shouldn't you be out hunting? It's a wonderful day to be outside."
"How would you know?" I scoff. "You never leave this house."
Haymitch's eyes widen. "What? Of course I do!"
"Walking next door for dinner doesn't count," I reply.
Haymitch lets out a deep chuckle. "Whatever. So if you're not going hunting, what are you doing today?"
"I'm going into town," I say. "I came over to ask if you needed any groceries."
Haymitch gasps and holds a hand over his heart, acting like my words have hurt his feelings. "Why would I ever need groceries? Did you and Peeta get tired of having me over for dinner?" he asks sarcastically.
"Of course not…" my voice trails off, "…but you might not want to come over tomorrow night."
Haymitch raises an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
I sigh, and I feel my cheeks tingle as I blush in embarrassment. "Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary."
After another swig of liquor, Haymitch says, "Enough said, sweetheart, I totally understand. I wouldn't want to walk in on you two lovebirds getting it on in the living room as much as you don't want me to interrupt."
My eyes widen at his words. "Haymitch!"
He leans his head back as he guffaws obnoxiously at my reaction. "Seems like the girl on fire is still pure even after all these years," he laughs.
I stand up, ready to go. My cheeks are burning from the humiliation. "Very funny, Haymitch," I say. "Well, I guess I'll be going now. I'll drop off some groceries later, alright?"
"Okay, sweetheart, see you later." Haymitch dismisses me with a wave of his hand and makes his way to the kitchen to refill his flask. I head out the door and toward town as fast as I can. Only when I've been walking for a good five minutes do I feel the blush on my cheeks begin to fade away.
Around two o' clock, after having gone to the grocery store, I make my way to a little shop about two blocks away from the bakery that sells fine painting supplies. The window display shows off a bunch of new handmade brushes and paints that were just shipped in from District 8. A small artist community has formed there in the past few years, and now its painting supplies have become well known throughout all of Panem. Peeta has been dying for the shipment to come in so that he can have a set of the lovely, handmade paintbrushes for himself. I can't wait to see his reaction tomorrow when we exchange anniversary gifts and I give him the brush set.
A small bell chimes when I swing open the door and enter the cozy little shop. Blank canvases in different shapes and sizes line the walls. The shelves that fill up the rest of the store hold every color of paint you could ever imagine. I find an assortment of paintbrushes at a long table close to the cash register. My fingers run over the bristles of the different brushes; some are as soft as a feather, while others are thick and coarse. My eyes scan the table for the specific paintbrush set that Peeta wants, and while I search for it, an older woman with thick rimmed glasses approaches me.
"Hello, Katniss," she says as she smiles.
Her name is Elizabeth. The only reason I know is because of Peeta, since he visits the shop quite frequently. I look up at her and return the grin. "Hi, how are you?"
"Good!" she replies. "How're you and Peeta?"
My grin grows wider. "Great."
"I'm glad. He's such a nice young man. Comes here often," she says, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "I'm not used to seeing you around, though. Can I help you with something?"
"Yes, actually. I'm here to get Peeta an anniversary gift. I know he's been wanting to get his hands on the new set of brushes that just arrived from District 8. You're not sold out, are you?" I ask, hoping the brushes are in stock.
"I only have a few sets left," Elizabeth answers. "You came just in time to snatch one up. Those sets are selling like crazy!"
I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."
She nods. "Let me grab you one out of the stock room. I'll be right back."
"Thank you," I say.
Elizabeth disappears to the back of the store, and I wait beside the register, examining some leather-bound sketching journals that I think Peeta would like. I barely notice when a young, blonde girl in her early twenties taps my shoulder.
Startled, I turn around to look at her. She's a petite little thing, with small shoulders and hips. Her big, blue eyes stand out behind her wispy lashes. I don't think I've ever seen her before in my life.
"You're Katniss Everdeen, right?" she asks. Her voice is light and airy, and it instantly reminds me of mockingjays singing in the woods.
I nod slowly, wondering where this conversation is headed. "Yes…"
She flashes me a bright smile. "It's so nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you." All I can do is just smile back at her. I have no idea who she is or why she wants to talk to me. She senses my confusion and rolls her eyes. "Oh, silly me. Let me introduce myself. I'm Marjorie Peterson. I just moved here from District 5 a few months ago. I'm the new music teacher at the elementary school just a few blocks from here."
"Oh, well it's nice to meet you," I say. Just then, Elizabeth returns with the boxed set of brushes in her hand. I grab one of the leather journals and hand it over to her. She quickly rings everything up and gives me the brushes and the journal in a bag. As I'm digging through my satchel for the money to pay Elizabeth, Marjorie speaks up.
"Katniss, I hope I'm not bothering you, but could I talk to you really quickly before you go?" she questions, her round eyes looking up at me.
I hand Elizabeth the money and say goodbye. Then Marjorie and I walk toward the door. "Sure, what do you need to talk to me about?"
"Well, like I said, I'm the new music teacher at the elementary school, and I'm putting together an end of the year program for the students to perform in the spring. I play quite a few instruments and have started teaching some of the older students some pieces that I want them to play…"
Marjorie's indigo eyes sparkle as she continues to talk about her students and her work. I can tell that she loves what she does because her enthusiasm radiates from her with every word she says.
"That's wonderful, Marjorie," I tell her after she stops speaking. "But what exactly does any of this have to do with me?"
She sighs softly. "Well, the smaller kids are still too young to play instruments, but I want them to be a part of the program as well. I decided that teaching them a few songs to sing will be easier for them than trying to learn how to play an instrument. Unfortunately, I don't have the best singing voice, but…" Marjorie looks at me with an expectant gleam in her eye, "I heard you can sing. Beautifully. And I was just wondering if you would be willing to volunteer to help me out with teaching the younger children some songs."
I'm taken aback at her request. Marjorie wants me to help her teach her music class? Yes, I sing, but I sing for the fun of it, for the pleasure it brings me. I'm not a real singer or a teacher. There are other people in District 12 who have lovelier voices than I do. Why would she pick me?
"Who told you that I can sing?" I ask her, intrigued.
She grins. "Your husband, Peeta. And his assistant, Ian. I've been friends with Ian for a while now. One day, I stopped by the bakery and told both of them about my tiny predicament with the smaller kids, and they both told me how amazing you are."
I blush. I really don't accept compliments very well. "Well, thank you," I say. Then I think over her request. It would be fun and something different for me to try, but if I did volunteer to help her, it would mean less hunting time and less fresh game. And since the program is in the spring, how will I be able to help her sufficiently if I'll be about eight months pregnant at that time? Her eyes look into mine excitedly as she waits for my answer. "Would you mind if I think about it for a while?" I say eventually. "I want to talk to Peeta about it."
"No problem! We still have a few months before the program, so it's alright if you want to think about it for a few days," Marjorie says happily. "I'm just glad that you're even considering it."
"Of course," I tell her with a soft smile.
She gives me an unexpected hug. "Thank you, Katniss," she says. "I've got to get going, but hopefully I'll talk to you soon?"
"Mhmm." I nod. "I'll give you a definite answer as soon as I talk to Peeta about it."
"Great! Well, see you soon then!" Marjorie chirps with her bubbly voice, and then exits the shop.
I follow right behind her and leave Elizabeth's shop, but instead of turning toward where Marjorie is headed down the street, I turn the opposite way. There's still a few things that I need to do before I can head over to the bakery and walk home with Peeta, like he asked me to.
I arrive at the bakery just as Peeta is about to lock up for the night. I go in and find him shutting off all of the lights with the keys in one hand and two long loaves of French bread in the other.
He gives me one of his irresistible smiles as I approach him. Before he can say a word, I crash my lips onto his after what has seemed like a long day of being apart. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me, and he instinctively places his hands on my hips. We eventually pull away, breathless.
"Hi," he chuckles, leaning his forehead on mine and leaving a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose.
"Hey," I say back. I quickly plant one more kiss on his mouth. "I missed you today."
"I missed you, too. And you," he adds, patting my stomach.
I giggle. "Ready to go home?"
"Yes," he says, grabbing one of my hands and leading me to the door, "but do you mind if we stop somewhere on our way there?"
I furrow my eyebrows. I've been walking around town for almost the entire day, and my fatigue has started to kick in. The last thing I want to do right now is go somewhere else other than home.
Peeta and I step outside and he locks up the bakery. "It's not too far from home, I promise," he adds as we begin to walk away from the town.
"Where are we stopping at, Peeta?" I ask.
"You know Thomas, right?" says Peeta. "The man who always comes to the bakery every morning?"
"The one who works at the medicine factory?"
"Yes," Peeta confirms. "Well I found out from one of Thomas's neighbors that his wife just had their third child two days ago. Since he's been with her at the hospital and at home, he hasn't come to the bakery these past few days. I thought it'd be a good idea to take them some bread and stop by to see the baby."
"That's a great idea, Peeta," I say with a smile. I still feel fatigued, but I'm excited about visiting Thomas and his wife and seeing their baby because I can't wait for Peeta and me to see ours.
We make it to the house in a few minutes. A young boy answers the door when we knock. He looks about ten or so. His name is Matthew, and he's the oldest sibling. When we walk into the house, we find Thomas and his wife, Sarah, in the living room. Anastasia, Matthew's sister and now the middle child, sits beside her parents, admiring her new baby brother, Jacob, who is nestled in his mother's arms.
After giving Thomas the bread, Peeta and I talk with them for a little while. Anastasia, who is six, warms up to me in a few minutes and asks if I can braid her hair for her just like mine, so I do. Eventually, Sarah lets Peeta and I take turns holding little Jacob, which is amazing and beautiful and frightening all at the same time.
I smile to myself as Peeta and I walk toward the Victor's Village hand in hand after having visited with Thomas and Sarah for about half an hour. Peeta and I don't say much to each other on our way home, but when we near our house, he speaks.
"Katniss," he says softly, with awe laced through his voice, "that's going to be us in a few months. We're going to have a baby, be parents…have a family."
I kiss him on the cheek before I say, "Yes, that's going to be us."
A/N: Please R&R, I really appreciate it!
