A/N: Please review! Actually just do anything. I'm sure I'll appreciate it. :)
Something has shifted the other day, in me and in him. We're freer with our touches now. It's as if our minds had a silent agreement of some sort. If before I was so wary, now I don't mind anymore. There are times when he places his hand at the small of my back when we're walking side by side on our way back to our house. It's one of my most awaited parts of the day because he gets to tell me everything. From what the people wore that day to the way his mixer sounded like Haymitch belching. Just everything.
Usually I'm not much of a talker but there's something about him that gets that Katniss out. Before I even know it, I'm making a joke about how his steps would be louder than the sound I would make if I fall from a ten foot high tree.
Our routine developed, I now spend my days surrounded by the quiet of the woods then I drop by his newly reconstructed bakery to pick him up and together we make our way back home.
Peeta's day off is on Wednesdays and I make it my day off, too. I go out and hunt enough for two days the day before so we'd still have enough to eat. Wednesdays are usually spent sleeping in until midday, having brunch then doing things together, like we used to before his bakery opened.
Two weeks ago he taught me how to make cheese buns, which ended in a very messy flour fight. Last week I took him to the woods for a walk. He loved it there, especially because it's fall. The leaves are a similar shade of his favorite color so today I'm taking him there again, this time to let him see his real favorite color, sunset orange. He doesn't know it yet, though. Together we pack lots of food, a change of clothes and a blanket.
"Where are you taking me?" he asks.
"The woods. You said you loved it there, right?" I answer vaguely, taking my time folding a shirt.
"Oh, yeah. Definitely." I take another shirt and fold it again slowly.
"Hurry up, Katniss! We're going to the woods!" he shouts, sounding like a child who's about to go to a fieldtrip somewhere nice and cozy. What we're going to do is not that far, actually. I laugh at him and together we head out.
It's mid-afternoon when we get to the lake. I chose to bring him there so we'd have a place to lounge around until sunset. He spreads the blanket over a small flat patch of grass and we settle underneath the shade of an enormous oak tree. We eat a small meal to satiate our hungry selves from the long hike. Peeta lies on his back afterwards and I do the same.
"Katniss," he says. "What are we? I mean, what am I to you?"
His question came so out of the blue my thoughts became jumbled and I can't find the right words to answer his query right away. Aside from the shock, my uncertainty also made me tongue tied. I'm not sure what he'd make of my half-deciphered feelings. I flip his question over and over for a few times before settling for a safe answer.
"You're my… friend."
"I'm your friend," he repeats.
"You're my best friend, Peeta."
He chuckles at that. "I'm your only friend."
"Excuse me? You are not my only friend."
"Oh really? Name your other friends then."
"Sae," I say, a bit of panic in my voice. I don't think I would be successful in convincing him. He just may be my only friend but I'm not letting him win this.
"Come on, she's like our mother."
"…Thom?"
"Acquaintance."
"Delly?"
"Okay, who else?" It's working. I mentally give myself a slap on the shoulder.
"Johanna."
"Hm."
"Pollux and Cressida."
"You sure about that? We've known them for what, two weeks?"
"What about that? We've only known each other formally for a couple of months but we got engaged."
Shit. I did not mean to say that aloud. I'm starting to panic and am about to excuse myself when he speaks again.
"Really? Never mind, but okay, that's four. Who else?"
I'm running out of names. "Um, Haymitch?"
"He doesn't count."
"What? Why doesn't he count?"
"He's, like, our foster father?"
"Fine."
"So… I'm your best friend, huh?" he says after a short period of borderline uncomfortable silence.
"Yeah."
"But we used to be something more…, real or not real?"
I shift, finding myself in such an uncomfortable position.
"Real," I whisper. "At least before they took you away from me." I add softly, half hoping he doesn't hear.
During our stay in Thirteen, I didn't know it yet. But as time flew by, when I no longer worried about my life or anybody's life for that matter, I had time to reflect. I knew I felt something. It's more than just caring.
I finally find a comfortable position and feel sleep coming to claim me. I close my eyes and just listen to our breathing and the sounds from the woods surrounding us. Maybe he thought that I fell asleep because he whispers, "I'd like to give it another try."
When I open my eyes again, everything around me is tinted orange. I look up and find Peeta's favorite color spread above us. He's asleep on his side beside me, our joined hands take me by surprise because it doesn't seem like he's the only one who wanted that to happen. My hand is folded around his, too. Like I don't want him to go. This confuses me further, but I allow it. Gently, I shake his shoulders to wake him up. "Peeta?"
"What? What is it? What's wrong?" he asks frantically. A part of him is still living in that world of fear, where every sound could mean our death, every breath could be our last, and every glance could be the last thing we see. It's both saddening and uplifting. As selfish as this would sound, I'm happy I'm not the only one.
"It's okay. Everything's okay, Peeta." I assure him. "I… I wanted to show you this," I look up, his eyes following mine.
Almost right away, his jaw drops as what he's seeing dawns on him. He looks as if it's his first time seeing a sunset, and maybe in a way, it is. I've forgotten that his memories have been altered, and as treatment, most of those were erased, taken away from him. When he came back here, to Twelve, he can only remember half of his life. He told me once over dinner that he felt robbed and violated but he agreed to that treatment because he wanted to get back to me. I remember feeling uneasy when he said that comment.
"It was beautiful, thank you." I'm snapped away from my thoughts.
I blink. "It was nothing," I tell him, a smile coming on to my lips.
"Don't you think we should head back?" he asks me. "It's getting pretty dark."
"Well, actually, we're staying here for the night." I tell him about my plan.
"Last week, when you told me you liked it here, I got this idea of a picnic here at the lake, then as an afterthought, of showing you this." I point up to the fading sunset.
"I planned it all in my head but when I got to the part where we head back home, things got complicated. If we were to wait for the sunset, it would be dark soon and it wouldn't be safe to travel. I found no other way around this problem but to just spend the night here. And so every day, after hunting, I prepared the cabin my father and I once built. The first day, when I entered the cabin, I broke down and cried for hours!" I laugh at this part and he joins me. When our laughter subsides, I continue my story.
"I started having second thoughts about this but before I can run and be a coward again, I locked the door and got it over with. It's absurd, locking the door, because I could still unlock it but for some reason it strengthened me. The second day, I filled the place with firewood then I… talked to my dad." I pause, suddenly taking interest of the stubbed fingernails on my right hand.
Deep breaths.
"I told him about you… To be honest, I was confused about my feelings when it comes to you. And talking to him, it cleared some things. I'm not done working everything out but I know enough."
I steal a glance away from my hand and look at him. A smile. He looks at me suddenly and I startle, a distant memory working its way onto my mind.
"And what are those things?" he asks playfully.
"I'm not going to tell you." Not because I'm being playful. I'm not sure I'm ready.
"Okay, when you're ready then." My jaw drops. His response mirrors my thoughts.
"You alright, Katniss?" he squeezes our still joined hands. Still. I gulp. I am so out of my mind today.
"Yeah," I breathe out. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
"What happened?"
It won't hurt telling him about it, right? "I was thinking… something about not being ready to tell you what I know. Then you said something about telling you when I'm ready." I shrug. "It was just weird. It's like you read my mind."
"Oh, well, I would have reacted the same way." He jokes.
I can hardly see him now. It's almost pitch black here. "Shit, I should have taken us to the cabin first before telling you my story."
He looks left, right, up, then back to me. "I'm not scared," he says, then gives my hand, which is still clasped around his, a little tug.
"I've got Katniss Everdeen with me."
A/N: Thoughts? Shall I continue or not?