Katniss
It felt like the heat, the noise and the frantic movements would consume her. They buzzed in her head, drowning her. She welcomed it. There had been too many days of silence, too many days of overthinking, insecurities and nonsensical worries. The loneliness she had felt before was now replaced with a desire for something she never thought she wanted. Something she felt like she now needed to have, as essential to her as oxygen or water.
It had been nearly three weeks since she had spent the night with Peeta and in all the chaos of running a kitchen and working in a fully booked popular new restaurant, they had barely spoken. She had awoken that day tangled up in him. The delicious smell of his skin, like fragrant spices, and the warmth of his body around hers had lulled her into the most peaceful sleep she had experienced in months. She wasn't used to the feeling of not wanting to leave the bed, of not wanting him to go. They had gone to bed so late and slept so soundly that when they did wake up, at three in the afternoon, they had to rush out of her apartment in a panic in order to pick up her car and allow Peeta enough time to go home, shower and change before they had to be a District 12 again that evening. They had barely enough time to get out of her front door let alone time to discuss what had happened. They could've texted each other, but he had never initiated it and neither had she.
She didn't regret what had happened, although she'd wished it could've happened in a different way. She had wanted to take her time with him but watching him run the kitchen and then mingle and charm her friends at the party had lit a fire in her that couldn't be quelled. Sure, the alcohol had helped lower her inhibitions and quiet the voice in her head telling her to wait, but she had known what she was doing. The only communication they'd had since were stolen glances and brief work-related words when he expedited from the line in the kitchen.
That's where she found herself on a busy Friday night, lost in the commotion of the kitchen and the flex of Peeta's jaw as he yelled instructions and encouragements to his team. The couple at table two had each ordered The Brutus, their extremely popular and delicious short rib and brisket burger and had deemed it either overcooked or undercooked according to their preferences. The burgers were cooked to perfection and Katniss had struggled to keep the smile plastered on her face as she'd taken their plates back to the kitchen. As she had handed the plates to Peeta and he frowned examining both burgers, she told him they were cooked beautifully and to not throw them away, her shift was ending soon, and she would be back to eat them later. The smile that lit up his face was amazing, and she would gladly deal with difficult customers everyday just to see it again.
"I really need the plates back fast. Those people are going to be pissed and pissed customers means no money for me," she said to Thresh, Peeta's sous chef and second in command.
"I hate to say it Kat, but I think they're going to be pissy no matter what," he said, moving between the stations with ease as he re-plated the meals for her. "But, I'm a rock star, so you know this meal is going to be fucking delicious." He handed both plates to her with a wink and a smile.
"You're all rock stars!" She yelled over the noise as she made her way out of the kitchen smiling at the sound of whoops and hollers behind her.
The uncharacteristic smile stayed with her through the end of her shift. In fact, it had been gracing her face more and more lately and people had started to notice. Haymitch had raised his eyebrow at her more than once and she had quickly replaced the smile with her more notable scowl only to have the smile reappear again as soon as he wasn't looking. Prim had even commented about how talkative and upbeat she seemed during their last weekly Skype session. She couldn't help it. If she weren't so unacquainted with the emotion, she would almost say she was happy. And starving. Her stomach made rebellious noises as she made her way through the kitchen to the employee lockers near the back door. She grabbed her car keys and phone, already thinking about raiding the meager rations of her kitchen cupboards when she got home, when a soft breath tickled her earlobe.
"Don't forget these."
She spun around to find Peeta holding a styrofoam container with the uneaten burgers inside, a smile spread wide across his face. Damp curls stuck out from under his black beanie chef cap. His cheeks were flushed from the kitchen's heat. He looked magnificent. Snippets of her night with him flashed through her mind. The broadness of his bare shoulders and chest. The sensation of his hands on her. His face twisted in ecstasy. The feeling of him inside her. The breathy way her name spilled from his lips. She clenched her thighs together, trying to hide her fidgeting by taking the container from his outstretched hands. Their fingers brushed. She sucked in a deep breath, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
"Peeta, I…" The words left her in a rush and then she didn't know how to begin. There were so many things she needs to say to him, but she was terrible with words and his proximity caused all her thoughts to jumble in her head.
His eyes softened as he seemed to realize her struggle. He reached out to her, his mouth opening to speak when a loud crash emanated from the kitchen followed by Thresh cursing under his breath and a line cook uttering apologies. Peeta turned his head from her to the scene unfolding behind him, torn between his desire and his obligation. She nodded her head towards the kitchen, silently telling him to go. A deep sigh escaped him, and they turned away from each other. As she exited the back door, already ridiculing herself for not saying something, anything, to him, she felt the familiar sensation of his fingers on her wrist. He turned her towards him and lowered his mouth to hers, stopping just as their lips began to graze. Her eyes had already shut in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" He whispered. His hands had already worked their way to the back of her head, his fingers winding into her hair, just waiting for her consent.
"Yes," she murmured before leaning into him and claiming his mouth with her own.
She hadn't meant for the kiss to get out of hand. Her intention was for something much more chaste since they had been out in the open, in full view of anyone who wandered by. What started as a simmering fire, a simple and sweet pressing of lips together turned into a raging inferno with bodies colliding, hot breathes, tongues and exploratory hands. Peeta pulled away first, resting his forehead against hers. She moved her hands to cup his face as they both tried to catch their breath. She deeply inhaled the scent of him. He smelled of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and dill, of sweat and the array of foods in the kitchen too. It wasn't overpowering. He seemed to carry it all in a perfect balance. It was intoxicating.
"I need to see you again," she spoke gently against his lips. She felt his head nod in agreement.
"We have a lot to talk about. And, if I'm being honest, I need to have you next to me in bed again. I need to have you on every surface of that apartment. If you'd allow it."
He pulled back with a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, but she also saw the determination in his eyes and the fact that he meant every word he said.
"I'd allow it."
The grin disappeared from his face and his pupils nearly swallowed up the cobalt of his eyes. He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. She could feel his growing excitement against her thigh. Luckily, it was covered by his apron. With a groan he placed a swift kiss to the tip of her nose and released her. He ran his hand over the back of his neck as he started back towards the rear entrance of the restaurant. He turned to look at her once more, a blush fully bloomed across his cheeks. She couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or excitement, maybe both.
"I'm done early tonight," he said. "Thresh is manning the kitchen until close. I'm off at nine. Can I...? Would it be ok if…? Do you…?"
He stammered suddenly so unsure of himself. She didn't know what had caused the confidence he had displayed only a few seconds earlier to disappear. She had noticed that he sometimes did this in the kitchen too. He would appear confident one moment and then, as if someone had told him he was wrong, he would second guess himself, retreating into his thoughts and growing quiet. It was like he was at war with himself. She wished she had the words to tell him how amazing she thought he was, but nothing she thought to say seemed adequate enough.
"I'll see you at 9:30, then?" She asked.
He smiled and winked, the confidence seeming to reappear, and he vanished behind the kitchen door. She stood there dazed. She'd never felt this intensity so quickly with anyone else before and it scared her. It left her wary to move forward, but she ached for more of him in a way she couldn't explain and didn't fully understand. All she knew was that life felt better with him in it and she hadn't experienced that feeling in a very long time.
"I saw that," a voice called out.
She cringed and cursed under her breath. Haymitch leaned against the brick of District 12's exterior walls. He was in the alley between the restaurant and the building next door. Shadow had hidden him from sight, but he was close enough to the back of the building to have witnessed the entire exchange between Peeta and herself.
"You know, Sweetheart," he began as he pushed himself off of the wall and started toward her, "it does neither of us any good to have you fraternizing with the hired help."
"I am the hired help," she snapped and tried to cross by him to get to her car. His hand shot out and gently grabbed her bicep, stopping her in place. She could smell the liquor on his breath and knew from the way his speech slurred slightly at the ends and the minor wobble in his walk that he was already half in the bag. A drunk Haymitch didn't hold back, not that a sober Haymitch really did either but his criticism tended to sting less with sobriety.
"Now, now, no need to get testy. You and I both remember how this ended the last time. Or, have you forgotten already? Maybe I can show you the receipt I have from the repair work to fix the front window? Would that jog your memory? I don't need the boy losing his shit like the last one did and wrecking my bar. What was his name again?"
She groaned and threw Haymitch a look of disgust. He knew damn well the guy's name was Cato, and he had yet to let her live down the fact that Cato tossed a bar stool through the front window of the restaurant after Katniss broke up with him. He was also subsequently fired which left Johanna managing the bar alone, a fact she rarely let Katniss forget either especially on very busy nights.
"Look, I get it." Haymitch continued. "You don't have the time or need for attachments. You have a sort of catch and release thing going on. You reel them in and then pull the hook out and set them free."
"That makes me sound like a self-righteous bitch. Thanks, Haymitch."
Her scowl returned, and a guilty weight landed on her shoulders. She pulled her arm free from his grasp but didn't leave. He wasn't wrong. She did have a history of using men to fill the lonely void in her life. She had never wanted a relationship or attachment. She knew all too well the pain of losing someone you loved and, if given the choice, she hadn't wanted to feel that way about anyone. Having to worry about losing Prim or Haymitch or Gale was hard enough. They had embedded themselves in her heart and her love for them ran deep, but she had always avoided consciously choosing to love someone outside of that trio. However, Peeta had begun to change that even in the small amount of time she had spent with him. Her draw to him was undeniable. It worried her and it obviously worried Haymitch too.
"It's different with him," she murmured.
Haymitch opened his mouth to say something else and then paused. Instead he clasped his hand over her shoulder patting it twice and then turned to walk away. She heard him mumble something under his breath as he made his way back to the restaurant, but she couldn't understand what he had said. He stopped outside the kitchen door and pulled up his pant leg exposing the black boots he always wore. She watched him shove a shaky hand into the top of the boot and produce a flask. He held the flask up, tipping it in her direction before throwing back a large mouthful and replacing the flask back in his boot. He straightened his clothing, took a visible deep breath and then disappeared into the kitchen.
She stood in the rear parking lot, the styrofoam container with the burgers still in her hands. As if it was urging her on, her stomach gave an angry grumble reminding her that she still hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She sighed and headed toward her car. Haymitch's words and the fire of Peeta's lips had her mind reeling. She didn't blame Haymitch for his concern. Her track record was anything but stellar, but she didn't think that was where things were going with Peeta. She wanted him in her life. The thought of losing him caused an actual physical reaction in her. Her stomach cramped, and a swirl of nausea crawled up her throat. She braced her hands against the steering wheel of her car and let the cool air from the air conditioning vents wash over her face until the nausea passed. She shook her head. She needed to get home and eat. She needed a shower. And, she definitely needed to talk to Peeta.
The tile felt cool against her flushed face as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Her fingers played with the soft fibers of the carpeted mat under her sink. She wondered how she'd never noticed the plushness of this mat before. Her stomach protested violently, and she froze waiting for the nausea to follow, but it didn't. She was still ridiculously hungry. The burgers that Peeta had given her were left untouched on her kitchen counter. She sat up slowly, leaning her back against the cabinet under her bathroom sink and thought about trying to reheat the burgers and eat them, but her stomach lurched in response just as it had done when she got home and opened the container. She tipped her head back and took deep breaths until the queasiness passed. A knock at the door jolted her forward and she rose to answer it, but then remembered that to do so she would need to walk past the offending burgers and she didn't know if she had that in her. She closed her eyes and hoped that it was just a stunning blonde haired, blue eyed boy at her door and not some crazy murdering maniac.
"Come in," she yelled as she quickly flushed the evidence of her nausea down the toilet and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste.
The door opened and closed, and she smirked as the tentative, but heavy footsteps that could only belong to Peeta, crept through her kitchen.
"Katniss?"
She turned and met him at the doorway of her bathroom. The toothbrush still in her mouth and toothpaste foam making its way down her chin. She quickly brought her hand up to wipe it away and he grinned. The smile faded as he took in the scene. Her shoes and bag laying haphazardly in the middle of the floor, the rug in her tiny living room folded over on itself where she had tripped trying to make her way to the bathroom, her disheveled hair, her sweaty face and finally the small amount of vomit on her shirt that she didn't realize was there until that very moment. Mortified, she spit out the toothpaste, threw the toothbrush in the sink and stomped into her bedroom pulling the shirt over her head as she went.
"What happened?" He asked as he followed behind her. "Are you okay?"
She turned towards him and he swiftly turned away with a slight blush staining his cheeks, giving her his back and a modicum of privacy. His chivalry made her stomach flip, but not in the nauseous way it had earlier, in a way she didn't quite understand and had never felt before. They had seen each other naked, but he still had the decency to allow her privacy to change. No one she had been with had ever done that. Once they had gotten her bare, they treated her body like their property, something they could look and touch whenever they felt like it.
"I think I might have caught a stomach bug or something," she said while pulling a clean shirt over her head and coming around to face him. "You probably should go. I don't want you getting sick too."
He cocked his head at her like that was the craziest idea he had ever heard. "Have you eaten anything?"
"No, but I'll be fine. I can get something once I'm sure it won't make a sudden reappearance."
"The burgers are still on the counter. Do you want me to…"?
She reached out her hand and covered his mouth to stop him. She didn't want to think of the burgers or the smell of meat cooking or onions and definitely not pickles. His wide shocked eyes would be comical if she didn't suddenly feel queasy all over again.
"The burgers need to go," she pled as she let go of his mouth and made her way to lay down on the bed. "Now, please. I'm sorry."
She buried her face in her comforter and willed the rolling in her stomach to end. She didn't think she had it in her to throw up again and she had already humiliated herself enough today. Peeta's heavy footsteps left the room. Cabinets opened and closed in the kitchen. Bags rustled. Pots clanged. She was curious why he was making so much noise to just throw out one container, but she was too afraid of moving to check.
"Maybe it's food poisoning," he yelled from what sounded like the inside of one of her empty cupboards.
She'd had a quick breakfast with Gale and Madge that morning, but it was just standard breakfast fare and nothing she thought would cause food poisoning. She reached for her phone sitting on her nightstand to text Madge since she knew Gale would still be at work.
Katniss: Hey, you guys feeling ok?
Madge: Yep. Why?
Katniss: Been sick today. Thought maybe food poisoning. Haven't eaten anything since breakfast.
Madge: Oh no! Do you need anything?
Katniss: I'm ok. Peeta is here.
Madge: !
Katniss: Stop. Don't make me throw up again lol
Madge: Ok lol. Feel better soon! Tell Peeta I said hi.
She laid her phone back on the nightstand ignoring the chime indicating a new message. She jumped a little when Peeta sheepishly peered around the door frame. He had been surprisingly stealthy compared to his previous noise through the apartment. He flashed that dazzling smile at her as he walked fully into the bedroom. He held a bowl in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in another.
"I did my best," he began quickly before she had a chance to object, "but, soup and crackers always makes me feel better. It's just a plain broth. I thought that would be best with the earlier offensive entrée."
Despite the lingering queasiness, the broth did smell wonderful and her stomach growled in anticipation. She moved back against the headboard and Peeta gently handed her the bowl and laid the crackers next to her phone on the nightstand. She sipped the broth warily and took a deep breath of the steamy vapors rising from the bowl. Nothing about the delicious concoction caused any kind of negative effect and so she began to eat and drink with gusto. Between gulps she eyed Peeta over the rim of the bowl as he awkwardly looked around the room unsure of what he should do and not wanting to obviously stare at her while she ate. She picked up a few crackers from the nightstand, offered them to him and patted the mattress next to her. He took the crackers, kicked off his shoes and crawled onto the bed, scooting his himself back against the headboard beside her. Their hips and legs were flush, and she smiled into her bowl as she took another hearty sip.
The feeling of being near him was so unusual. He put her instantly at ease and she was amazed at how relaxed they were around each other even though they hadn't really known each other long. In a strange way that she wouldn't dare speak out loud, just being near him felt like home. She glanced at him as he quietly chewed his crackers. His legs were crossed at the ankles. His posture was completely relaxed. He'd let his head fall back against the headboard and his eyes were closed. The definition of his jaw made it look like it was carved from stone. His usual easy expression was replaced by something more intense and removed that suggested an entire world locked away inside him. If it weren't for the steady rhythm of his breathes and the movement of his mouth as he chewed, she could've sworn he wasn't real. He was so still. His eyelashes, which you didn't normally notice much because they're so blonde, up close were a light golden color and so long she didn't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinked. He was so beautiful.
"You're staring," he murmured, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. His eyes stayed closed.
"I'm not," she replied unconvincingly into her soup bowl.
His bright blue eyes opened, and he leaned in close to her. "I think you like me," he whispered. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."
She laughed and playfully shoved him away feigning indifference while rolling her eyes, but a blush formed on her cheeks regardless. He chuckled for a moment and then grew quiet again.
"The last time I was here…things happened so fast, and you were drunk, and I don't regret anything, but I wish that I would've…that we would've...," he exhaled and paused, "I hope you don't think I took advantage of you. I meant what I said in the parking lot. I want you. I want you so much that it consumes all of my thoughts. I feel this need, this pull, to be around you and I think that is what drove me that night and I just wanted to apologize to you if you felt like I took advantage of the situation in any way."
She sat next to him stunned by his confession. Her brain scrambling for an adequate response. She wasn't sure what to say because she didn't understand how she felt or what was happening between them. Everything seemed so fast but then again, nothing had ever felt as right as the feeling of him next to her. She felt that pull too, that need. The want to have him, to touch him, to just stand in the same room as him. It made her feel crazy, but in a fantastically heady way, like everything was alright with the world and she could do nothing wrong.
They didn't know each other well enough for a definition of this feeling. Infatuation maybe? Lust? She wasn't sure. But, what she did know was that he had nothing to feel guilty or apologetic about. She had wanted him on that night they shared together and although she had been drunk, she had known what she was doing, and she had made her choices. She would make the same ones all over again if given the chance.
She wished that she was good with words, and that she could say all the things that swirled around in her head, but she just didn't have that capacity, so she did the only thing she could think to do. She set the bowl on the nightstand and rose to her knees. She placed her palms on either side of his face and brought her lips to his forehead. He released a breath that she felt reverberate through her whole body. Her lips then traveled to the tip of his nose and lingered a moment before ghosting over his lips. Mimicking their earlier encounter behind the restaurant she whispered, "Is this okay?" He hummed his ascent and she slowly lowered her mouth to his, savoring the moment, the smell and the taste of him. Her hands moved from his face to the back of his neck. The movement of their lips achingly slow. His hands traversed the landscape of her thighs before stopping on her hips. His fingers inched beneath of the seam of her shirt. His thumbs caressed small circles on her hips bones. The embers within her that seemed to constantly smolder for him burst to life, his touch giving them all the oxygen they required to become flames.
Her leg swung across his lap and his fingers pulled her closer, the heat from his hand feeding the fire inside her. The pace and urgency of their lips quickened. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth begging for entrance which she quickly granted. The thoughts that had consumed her mind just moments ago had vanished. She could only focus on the totality of him. The feel of the downy soft hairs on the back of his neck, the hard planes of his chest, the gentle strength in his arms, the brush of his tongue against hers, gentle yet insistent like he wanted to savor every inch of her mouth. He pulled away first, placing a kiss on her chin before letting his head fall against her shoulder. His heavy breaths formed goosebumps on her chest and breasts. Her nipples hardened against him. A quiet groan rumbled from his chest and she smiled into his hair because she knew he'd felt it.
"Feeling better?" He mumbled against her neck sending a shiver through her.
She nodded in reply and kissed the top of his head inhaling the scent of his mint and sandalwood shampoo. As she took a moment to really assess the way she felt, she realized that she actually did feel completely better. The nausea was gone. The broth and crackers had helped, just like he said they would. At the mere thought of food, her still nearly empty stomach gave a rebellious demand to be fed. Peeta laughed against her and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her flat against him.
"Time for real food?" He asked, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. "Shall I whip something up for us?"
"Forget about food. We don't need to eat. Let's just stay in this bed forever."
He chuckled. "As much as I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live it in forever, we're going to have to eat at some point. By the sound of things, I think that point has arrived."
He playfully tickled her waist and she squirmed, ever reluctantly, from his embrace. "Let's not cook. Besides, you've seen my cupboards, broth and crackers are about the best I have to offer right now."
"That's true," he agreed an impish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Pizza?"
"What about Chinese?"
While she could typically eat pizza for almost every meal, there was a different craving working its way to the forefront of her mind even though she usually was pretty impartial when it came to Chinese takeout. She decided to blame it on the faint smell wafting through her floorboards from below.
"Don't move," Peeta said as he hopped out of the bed and headed for the door.
"Wait! You don't even know what I like."
He paused in the bedroom doorway theatrically tapping a finger to the corner of his mouth. "I bet I can guess. Give me a few minutes and let me surprise you."
He leaned forward, grasped her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles and then made his way out the door. She listened to the dull thud of his footsteps on the stairs down the hall until the apartment was engulfed in silence once again. She flopped back on the mattress with a contented sigh and then kicked her feet happily and made what could only be described as a girlish squeal. She stopped, her fist frozen in the air in celebration. What had happened to her? She wasn't this girl. She didn't get giddy over a guy. If she didn't know right, she would think she was turning into her sister. Prim was the hopeless romantic who loved sappy love stories and dreamed of Prince Charming. Katniss had always been the pragmatic one, the provider, the parental figure in an otherwise parentless household. She had never had time for fantasy or romance. But, there was something about Peeta Mellark. Something that broke all of the rules she had put in place for herself. Something that made her do a silly dance on her mattress. Prim would think this was hysterical. She would laugh and lightheartedly tease Katniss only to then want to know all of the details and start planning the wedding.
Katniss wondered if she had time to call Prim but realized that there was no way they could have a short five-minute conversation. She decided to send her a text instead with the promise to call her in the morning. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand ready to unlock it when the notification on the home screen stopped her short. It was the unread text message from Madge that had come through right before Peeta had brought her the broth. Her stomach dropped, and her heart began to race as she read the words on the screen.
Madge: You're not pregnant right?
Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. Now that she thought about it, she should've had a period by now. Her cycle was like clockwork especially since she had been using birth control. She exhaled in relief as she remembered that she was on birth control. She had started using it last year after being chastised by her sister, Madge and Johanna. In reality, she had never really been that sexually active. There had been a couple people when she was in and just out of high school, including Gale, which they soon found out was an awkward mistake. But, for the most part, she had always been busy working and taking care of Prim. Things didn't start to change for her until Prim left for college two years ago. It was then that Katniss started to look for ways to fill the loneliness in her life.
She opened the app on her phone that she used to track her cycles and sure enough, it told her that she was six days late. She didn't understand. This had never happened before. The lateness combined with the nausea caused a pool of anxiety to settle in her belly. Although she didn't understand how she was late, she did know that there had been only one person she had been with without the added protection of condoms. Peeta. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Her foot bounced nervously on the floor. This worry would consume her if she let it. Peeta would be back with the food and he would know something was different, something was wrong. There was only one way to ease the worry that had grown from a pool and was now crashing over her in waves. She threw on her shoes, quickly typed out a text to Peeta and headed out the door and to the convenience store across the street.
It's amazing how slowly three minutes can go by when you are dreading something. She watched the timer on her phone tick down the seconds as she sat on her bathroom floor with her back against the bathtub listening to Peeta open up the boxes of takeout in the living room. They had both gotten back to the apartment at nearly the same time and he didn't question what she had gone out for. He excitedly talked to her about a book on Chinese cuisine that he had read and about some fusion recipes he would like to try. She had tried to pay attention to his words and to match his enthusiasm, but all she could think about was the impending doom or rapture that the test hidden in her purse would reveal. She had caught a glance or two from him that gave away the fact that he could tell that something in the air between them had changed, but we kept up his rambling and gave no indication otherwise. She, on the other hand, felt like a fidgeting mess. Thoughts ran through her brain faster than she could process them. Her muscles twitched with nerves and her heart hammered behind her ribs. She eventually was able to excuse herself to the bathroom where she now found herself wishing she could somehow blend in with the white tile floor and walls and disappear completely.
The timer ticked down the final seconds and she quickly turned it off before the alarm could sound. She reached up to the edge of the sink where the determination of her destiny ominously sat and grabbed the white plastic stick in her fist. She kept her eyes averted wanting to hold on to the last few seconds of what had been a magnificent day. Peeta hummed a song out of tune in the living room and she knew she had lingered in here too long at this point. He would start to wonder if she was sick again. She needed to quit delaying, just rip off the metaphorical bandage and look. So, she did, and those two pink lines stared right back at her in a confirmation of all her fears and insecurities.
Before she had a chance to stop herself, she felt the first tears roll down her cheeks. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried. It had to have been when Prim left for college, but she couldn't be sure. She had never been overtly emotional. Emotions were like ammunition that could and would eventually hurt her. She had known no other reality. Yet, she sat on the bathroom floor filled with so many conflicting emotions that she didn't know which was forefront. Tears turned to sobs that wracked her chest and drew out noises she didn't mean to make.
A quiet knock at the door and the pressure of a warm embrace.
Peeta.
She turned into him as he sank beside her on the floor letting the sobs work their way through and out of her until there was nothing left. He held her close, his fingers combing through her hair. He was silent. He didn't ask what or why. He just held her giving her his strength to use when she was ready. She pulled back to look at his face. His eyes were wide, the pupils swallowed nearly all of the brilliant blue showing only deep wells of emotion. His eyes scanned the room, the empty box in the sink, the positive test on the floor and finally back to her face. She didn't have to say anything. He already knew. He sat fully back against the wall and she curled against his chest listening to the steady drumming of his heart. He wrapped his arms around her and idly played with the end of her hair. The silence stretched between them for what seemed like hours before she finally spoke.
"I didn't lie to you. When we were together that night I was on birth control. I still am, or I was, or I don't know what I am now."
He sighed deeply. His chest rose and fell carrying her frame with it. His hand stilled on the ends of her hair.
"I never thought you lied to me Katniss, but does that mean that this…that it is mine?"
His voice was barely above a whisper like he feared speaking in full volume would carry more weight than either of them could bare in the moment. She simply nodded and listened as the steady cadence of his heartbeat turned to an erratic gallop beneath her ear. He released a heavy breath that tickled the top of her head and gently pulled away from her, so they were face to face. His fingertip caressed her chin as he tipped her face up to meet his eyes.
"What do you want to do?" He asked.
His eyes were glassy with the same trepidation she felt, but she saw nothing but gentleness behind his gaze. He wasn't upset or angry with her. He wasn't running for the door. He was down here on the bathroom floor with her face in his hands letting her decide the fate of them both. In that moment she knew that she would never hurt this man, she would do what she could to keep him safe and that he was working his way deep within her heart like only a few people had ever been able to do. It was terrifying and exhilarating and exhausting. She didn't know what to do about any part of the entirety of the situation. About him, about the plastic stick with two pink lines, about anything. She saw only incredibly hard choices and she didn't have the stamina to make them while propped against her bathroom tiles.
"I want to sleep," she began. "I want to crawl in your arms and never leave. I want to rip my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. I want to talk to my sister. I want to hide under the covers of my bed. I want to eat. I want to get up off this goddamn floor and I may want to throw up again. As for the rest of it, I don't know."
"Well, I know I can definitely help you out with at least three of those things," he said as he rose to his feet holding out his hand to help her up as well. "You're up off the goddamn floor, I have a lot of food sitting just on the other side of this door and my arms are always here for you when you need them." He pulled her into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. "As for the rest of it, we'll figure it out together."
A/N : Between the holiday and family duties, I struggled with this chapter and getting it to come together how I wanted it to. My goal is to keep the essence of Katniss and Peeta's characters even though some of the things they say and do may not be completely canon. I still don't know how I feel about how this one turned out, but I'm ultra critical of everything I write :). Things are definitely taking a turn for our favorite pair and there is still so much backstory to tell. I hope you like it! My apologies for any mistakes.
