A/N: Thanks again for all the feedback! I'm floored by how you've all responded to this little ficlet :) There is going to be definitely one, MAYBE TWO more posts to this story and the next post is already finished so the more reviews = the faster I update haha! I can only write when the inspiration hits though so if you want me to feel inspired get reviewin' ;) Enjoy!
It has been pouring outside for at least an hour. It is coming down in buckets and subsequently the bakery has been empty for a while. Bad weather doesn't really encourage the town people to wander into shops looking to buy cakes or cookies.
I decide to keep myself busy by starting another batch of cheese buns I can take home to Katniss.
I'm just getting started when I hear the familiar ding announcing someone entering the shop.
When I come out from around the counter I'm greeted with the sight of Katniss in full hunting gear, soaking wet, dripping from head to toe. She is grinning at me like she knows some secret I don't, and she drops her bow before stripping off her jacket.
"Oh my god, Katniss" I mumble as I watch a small puddle forming on the floor beneath where she's standing.
"NIce to see you, too," she replies and moves forward, kissing me on the cheek, before moving past me behind the counter.
I turn and follow her as she moves through the kitchen and into the back room where my office is.
It's about the size of the bedroom Katniss and I share at home. A small couch in the corner, a desk I use to handle inventory and other paperwork, and a wood burning oven that was actually the only thing left standing from my family's old bakery after the war.
Katniss is peeling off each layer of her water logged clothes and tossing them into the corner carelessly. "So are you just going to stand there staring, or are you going to help me?" She questions and I finally snap out of it.
I make my way towards her, never one to refuse the chance to help her undress. "How long were you out in the rain?" I ask as we work together to help her out of the pants that are sticking to her legs.
"Uh since it started coming down," she admits with a laugh. And then, when I shoot her a look of gentle reproach because, I mean, come on, is she trying to get sick?, she elaborates. "I know, I know, it's just that it was so pretty in the woods today. And I was out by the lake. And when it first started raining the sun was still out and there was just something so beautiful about it."
I look up at her from the floor as I help her step out of her pants and I can't help but smile. She has this childlike awe and wonderment in her voice as she tells me about her day playing in the rain, I immediately soften.
"You could have caught a cold," I tell her as I stand to face her, lifting her chin with my hand as I join our lips in a soft kiss.
"I'm fine," she smiles as we pull away. She is standing in nothing but her bra and underwear and her damp, cold skin seems to be crying out for the warm flesh of my palms.
"I just need you to help me warm back up," she whispers into my ear and as I pull her against me I grow hard anticipating all the ways to keep her warm.
We sink to the floor together in front of the oven. I'm planting kisses over her face, down her throat, across her chest and suddenly I'm very grateful for the heavy rain today. The rain that is keeping any customers away to interrupt this private moment, the rain that delivered me a soaking wet Katniss that I got to undress.
She rids me of my shirt, but I'm in such a haze I can't seem to focus on anything but her. I remove her bra, taking her breasts in my hands as she throws her head back and moans. Just as she arches her back for more I move lower. I kiss along waistline of her black underwear and as I finally pull them down her hips I'm not sure I've ever been this turned on from pleasuring her. Her hair is dripping wet, her face and body are washed clean from the rain, and lying in front of the oven, the light from the flickering flames is hitting her face at just the right angle, she looks like a wanton woman. I want to hear her scream out in climax.
I start off slow, placing kisses along her inner thigh and she freezes. I look up and I see her lift up off the floor, eyes wide in surprise. "What are you doing?" she asks and I hear the nervousness in her voice. We've never done this before. I've never done this before. It seems funny, considering how many times we've made love, but seeing as how neither one of us were sexually experienced or knowledgable when we first became intimate, it was just something we never experimented with.
I swallow thickly. I don't know why, but in the moment I really want to taste her, I want to try and pleasure her in this new way. "Is it okay?" I swallow nervously, suddenly wondering if she thinks I'm being crass, "I mean...can I?"
She hesitates for a moment, but then nods and lies back down. I can tell she's nervous, maybe even a little uncomfortable, but she's willing to go along with it. I'm determined to make her enjoy it now even more.
It's an odd sensation at first, but as we both become more relaxed and really get into it I know this was definitely one of my better ideas. Tasting her, being so intimate with her most private area, it's the most erotic thing either of us have ever done.
When she screams and spasms uncontrollably I lie back down next to her, satisfied with my work. I hold her as she recovers and when she's finally ready to go she rolls on top of me with a smile. She lowers herself over me and I'm already so hard it doesn't take long as I grip her hips and drive into her at a frantic pace.
A while later I realize we both fell asleep for a bit and the fire in the oven is slowly dying out and the rain outside is letting up. I pull a blanket down from the nearby couch and cover our naked bodies. I push the damp hair away from her face and she comes to, blinking awake as she gazes up at me.
This moment is so perfect, naturally I go and ruin it.
I tell her, "I want to marry you."
We're eating dinner in silence later that night. After Peeta announced his desire to marry me, I didn't say anything immediately in response. But Peeta, being Peeta, seemed to sense the million emotions and inner turmoil that was raging through me and simply said I didn't have to say anything yet.
And so I haven't.
I've been fighting a war inside my head since he spoke those words out loud. Peeta bringing up the idea of marriage raises every old fear and doubt and insecurity I've ever had about the idea. At the same time though, I can't deny how much I love Peeta and how happy we are together. If he wants to marry me, what good reason do I have to deny him?
Finally, after an excruciatingly long time of silence between us, I speak up.
"Why do you want to marry me?"
He looks up at me over his dinner, half startled by my sudden question and half amused. "Glad you asked," he says, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his.
"I guess I want to make it official for starters, get the papers signed, have a toasting and all that,," he shrugs and my heart melts just a little at the blush that creeps up his cheeks.
I try to smile at him encouragingly, letting him know not to be embarrassed, that I'm just curious.
"But mostly I want to know, I want everyone to know, that this is forever, that we're always going to be together, no matter what happens," He says and my heart is beating at a furious pace and the emotions are swelling up inside me as I try to hold back tears.
"I want that too," I manage to choke out as I lift a hand to his face and cup his cheek, "it's just that..."
I stumble over my words as I try to express how as much as I want to give Peeta that, as much as I want that kind of commitment and promise of him and I together forever, the idea also scares me half to death. It seems it doesn't matter how much time has passed, how far away we get from the war, that person I used to be, determined to keep my self cut off and guarded is still there. The person that thinks marriage only causes more pain and heartache than its worth didn't ever really go away.
I try and express this as best I can, but I can only get out a few words and phrases like, 'my dad', 'my mom was never the same', and 'I don't ever want to lose you'. I dissolve into a mess of tears and Peeta is there as always to hold me until it passes. He strokes my hair and places a kiss to my temple before pulling back.
"I know you're scared," he says with a gentle smile, "with how you grew up, losing your dad, what it did to your mom...it's suppose to be scary though, I think. Marriage is a big deal, committing yourself so fully to someone else..."
I take a few shuddering breaths as I regain my composure. Peeta is always so good at talking me down. His gift with words, how he seems to understand me better than anyone else; he is always the only thing I need to feel okay again.
"But think of it this way," he says lifting my chin so our eyes meet, "what if something awful were to happen to me tomorrow and you lost me."
He sees the panic and alarm in my eyes at just the idea and the confusion over why he would even say such a thing and quickly continues.
"I just mean that you and I, we're already pretty far gone. We live together, we share a bed, I love you just a little bit more each day," he trails off and I can't help a small smile. "If you think avoiding marriage will keep you from getting hurt it's a little late for that. We've given too much of ourselves to each other already."
I nod as I absorb the full weight of his words. And he's right, of course he's right. Peeta is already my whole life. I've given him so much of myself, he has a piece of my heart I'm never getting back. If pain eventually comes as a result of that I'm okay with it, because he's worth it. Marrying him won't make a difference about how I feel about him. It'll only make it permanent and official. It will make Peeta happy and that's what I want.
"You're right," I finally say after a moment.
"Of course I am," Peeta smiles and shrugs.
"I want to be your wife," I announce and he gets that little spark in his eyes and pulls me in for a kiss.
"Glad to hear it," he whispers as we pull away.
Much later that night Katniss and I are lying in bed after a particularly loud and enthusiastic round of lovemaking. Our naked bodies are entwined so close together our body heat makes the covers almost unnecessary. I'm so happy and content holding her in my arms, exhausted after making love and at peace that the girl I've been in love with practically my whole life has agreed to be my wife, I feel myself ready to slip off to sleep.
I'm getting that heavy drowsy feeling right before you doze off for good when I feel Katniss pull away from my arms and turn her back towards me. She curls up on her side of the bed putting a good distance between us.
I pause for a moment, not sure what to make of the action. We always fall asleep holding one another. It's been like that ever since those nights on the train during the victory tour.
After a moment of debating it in my head, I decide to just ask her.
"Is something wrong?"
She sighs and rolls onto her back, glancing over at me. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she decides how to express what she wants to say. My stomach turns a little uncomfortably, wondering what it is that's bothering her.
"Peeta, I should have made something clear before I agreed to getting married," she begins and I'm holding my breath as I wait for her to continue. "I don't want to have kids."
She looks up at me biting her lower lip with fear and remorse in her eyes as she waits for my reaction.
It's not exactly the best news in the world, but I'm a bit relieved it wasn't something worse or unexpected.
"I know that Katniss. You've told me before how you feel about having children. I didn't expect it to be different now. Us getting married doesn't have to change anything," I try to explain, but she sits up in bed and faces me, clearly passionate about getting her point across.
"No, Peeta it's not just that I don't want to have kids. I wont," she emphasizes, locking eyes with me for a moment so I can see the truth behind her words. "And you can't say that us getting married doesn't change that. You want children, I know you do. And if we get married you'll be committing to spending the rest of your life with a woman who can't give you them."
I realize what she's saying is the truth and I'm glad she brought it up because I needed to hear it. It doesn't change anything, kids or no kids, I want her with me forever as my wife. but I need to really accept this is something she feels strongly about.
Taking a deep breath I do my best to try and make sure she understands nothing she could ever say or do could make me not want to marry her.
"You're right, I would like children," I start off, deciding to be perfectly honest, "but I don't want them more than I want you Katniss. If marrying you, if having you as my wife means we'll never have kids, that's okay. All I need is you."
Katniss sighs and I can tell she's having a hard time accepting this.
"You say that now..." she mumbles.
"Because I mean it," I reply cupping her face in my hand. I kiss her softly trying to express everything iI can't say at once: that she's all I'll ever really need to be happy, that as long as she's by my side I don't need anything else.
She doesn't say anything else but curls up against my body and we fall asleep in each other's arms like always.
The next day I can barely keep the dumb grin off my face at the bakery and I feel like I'm floating on air. All I can think about is that Katniss is going to be my wife. I keep getting lost in daydreams about seeing her for the first time in her wedding dress. This unbridled joy of knowing that she will be mine forever is hard to contain. It sounds cheesy, it sounds cliche, but in a way I've been waiting for this since that first day of school when I heard her sing.
The day goes by painfully slow, but when it's finally time to close up shop I can barely stop myself from jogging home. As I enter the house I'm immediately aware that Katniss isn't there. All the lights are off and after calling out her name a few times I'm greeted with only silence.
Katniss is always home before I am. Frowning, I'm at a loss as to what I should do with myself. I awkwardly move around the kitchen before deciding to get dinner ready for when, or if, she does come home.
It's not until I finally force myself to sit down and eat that Katniss shows up halfway through the meal. She is in full hunting gear, but doesn't seem to have any fresh meat with her. She leaves her bow and jacket by the door like always before coming to sit beside me.
"Hi," she says quietly, and I have to push down the surge of annoyance I feel that she shows up so late without any explanation and just says 'hi'.
"Where were you?" I question, trying to keep my voice on an even level.
"The woods," she says and it's like she can sense my dissatisfaction with that response so she continues, "I've been thinking."
This peaks my interest and makes me forgot about any anger as I wonder what she needed to think about for so long.
"I know what you said last night, about being okay with not having children," she starts off and my stomach twists horribly, not liking where this is going. She struggles to find the next words and when she starts getting emotional, on the verge of tears, I shake my head, not wanting her to continue.
"I love you Peeta, I do. I want to be your wife, but the fact of the matter is we want different things," the words come out in a rush as she starts to lose her composure, the tears spilling over.
I slam my fist against the table and stand up from my chair as I shout, "NO!"
We're both startled by my actions, but I'm too upset to try to keep my emotions in check. "You don't get to do this," I say, anger rising up in me like a sick poison. "You don't get to decide what I deserve."
I can tell she is shocked and a little frightened by my outburst, but she presses forward, that determination she always has, flashing in her eyes. "You're right, I don't," she says calmly. "But I do get to make my own decisions and I just can't accept the fact that I would be taking so much away from you, that I would be taking the possibility of children from you."
"You can't just-" I falter over my words, too upset and unable to accept what she is saying to express anything coherent. "It's not fair." I blurt out, getting out the only words I can manage.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, not meeting my eye as she stares at the table.
And I'm so mad, so hurt and bitter over losing something I had at my fingertips before she pulled it away, I can barely function. I don't know what to say or do and I suddenly feel myself suffocating with the emotions of the moment.
Finally, I turn and walk out the front door and I don't return for the rest of the night.
For the first time since right after the war ended I wake up alone in bed.
I feel cold and empty without Peeta's strong arms wrapped around me like they are every morning. There were no nightmares to wake up screaming from, but I would almost prefer the terror over the suffocating sadness weighing on me now.
I feel like crying when I really let it sink in that I'm completely alone. I don't even feel angry at Peeta for leaving. I knew he wouldn't take my news well, I just pray he doesn't hate me forever because of it.
Although it's hard to see right now, I'm convinced that I'm doing the right thing. Of course I knew it would upset Peeta and despite wanting nothing more than to be his wife, it just has to be this way. I can not selfishly take away a future of children from him. Letting Peeta marry me would just lead to bitterness and resentment somewhere down the line when he realizes how much he wants children and that I can't give them to him.
It's not until late morning that I finally drag myself out of bed, accepting that Peeta won't be home anytime soon. I don't have the energy or desire to go to the woods today and after a while I feel like I'm going insane from being in the house. I keep replaying last night's events over in my head and I get to the point I feel so antsy I feel like I'm going to burst if I don't clear my head.
I walk outside and find myself headed next door to the only other person n the world besides Peeta that I still feel connected to. The only person who I can genuinely call a friend and mentor.
I don't even bother knocking as I make my way inside to find Haymitch pouring himself a drink at the kitchen table. I'm surprised he is not already passed out.
"Well, hello there, sunshine," Haymitch says before downing half the glass of whiskey he just poured.
"Pour me a drink," I say sitting down across from him.
"Uh oh," he replies shooting me a wary look. "Didn't you already learn your lesson? This stuff doesn't solve your problems."
"Works for you, doesn't it?" I bite out, annoyed he is treating me like some kid.
"Why don't you save the attitude and just tell me what's wrong," he says pouring himself another drink.
I push down my annoyance at him and give in, spilling out all the events of the last two nights. I tell him how Peeta asked me to marry him, how I agreed but then realized I couldn't knowing I would be depriving him of children, how he walked out last night and hasn't been back since.
He doesn't say anything for a long moment, simply stares at his glass of whiskey that he drinks slowly.
Right when I'm about to snap at him he speaks up.
"And I'm assuming you think you're being all noble and selfless deciding not to marry him so he can still have children one day."
I open my mouth in protest, fury and hatred rising to the surface as I want to rip his head off for being so insensitive, for not understanding.
"Before you get pissed off, just think about it for a moment," he says and then continues, "do you really think not marrying Peeta will make him happy? You really think he's just going to decide to meet some other girl who wants to pop out his babies."
"No," I shake my head, but I falter over my next words, less assured of myself. "It's just that...if he marries me it's like he's completely giving up on the idea of kids and what if in 10 or 15 years he realizes he wants them more than he thought. What if he changes his mind?"
"What if you change your mind?" Haymitch responds and then continues before I can shoot down that idea. "Look," he sighs, staring at his glass as he contemplates his next words, "I told you once that you could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him. Well, that's not true. You deserve him. After everything you two have gone through, you deserve some god damn happiness and you two are the only ones that can give each other that."
I let his words sink in and try to ignore the lump forming in my throat.
"You got a good thing going right now. I see it every day, the love you kids share somehow survived the Games, the war, and his hijacking. If you're lucky enough to have that you'd be a damn fool to throw it away. Peeta is a big boy, he knows what he's doing and if he wants to marry you knowing that you don't want kids, then let him; don't try and save him from himself."
I stare straight ahead, contemplating everything Haymitch has said. I'm doing my best to not let him see how much his words have affected me, but he has always been able to read me like a book. I nod slowly after a while and manage to whisper out, "You're right." I push back from the table and stand up.
Before I turn to leave he stops me and says, "And Katniss, don't let it have been all for nothing."
He sees the confusion on my face and elaborates. "We fought that war for a reason. There are no more Hunger Games that future generations of kids will have to fight and die in. Maybe not right away, but someday you'll realize having children is the only real way to move on; to prove you're not afraid anymore."
I nod and then turn and walk out the front door.
The sun is just starting to set and I'm standing outside the front door of our house trying to work up the nerve to go inside. I pace back and forth nervously, returning over and over again to the door handle, hovering my hand above it for a moment, before pulling away in frustration.
After walking out last night I went to the bakery and gave myself time to cool down. When I finally had time to process everything I immediately regretted leaving. I wanted to go back and try and work things out, but I was too ashamed of the way I left to bring myself to do it. I spent a restless night on the couch in my office instead.
I want to go inside and see her and talk to her and deal with this huge thing between us, but a part of me is just too anxious and scared to handle what comes next. I don't know if I can accept that when I walk past that door everything between us could change forever.
Finally, after deciding I've spent enough time recently not being man enough to face my problems, I open the door and go inside. I walk through the living room and around the corner to find her in the kitchen. Her back is towards me as she washes some pots and pans in the sink.
My heart responds with a hopeful lurch in my chest as I take in her appearance. Her hair is washed and pulled back in one of those fancy braids she used to wear all the time. She is dressed in a soft, cotton, button down dress I only see her wear on special occasions. It's a dark green that compliments the color of her skin and whenever she wears it my mind always seems to wander to how flimsy it looks, how easy it would be to pull it off of her.
I shake my head to clear it of those types of thoughts and clear my throat loudly enough to get her attention and announce my presence. She turns around immediately and when she looks at me I see something in her eyes I can't quite identify.
"Hi," I say quietly, looking away. The sick shame that has been running through me since practically the moment I left the house last night is making its reappearance. I expect her to be furious with me, to shout accusations of me being a coward, to hate me for just walking out on her and leaving her alone last night.
What I don't expect her to do is apologize.
"Im so sorry," she says after turning off the sink and wiping her hands. After a moment of hesitation she moves forward and throws her arms around me. I'm caught off guard at first, but soon recover enough to wrap my arms around her. I relish the feeling of her body pressed up against mine, the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin; I savor the moment as long as possible before reluctantly pulling away.
"Don't be sorry," I sigh dropping my hands to her hips. "You were just trying to do what you thought was right, you were just being honest with me."
"No, Peeta-" she tries to speak up, but I cut her off, wanting to make sure I get across what I've been thinking over all night.
"No, it's true. I'm sorry. I never should have left last night. It wasn't fair to just walk away from our problems and I promise you I will never leave you again." I lift a hand to cup her face and I can see her mind working a mile a minute and the emotions swirling inside her.
"Peeta-" she says again, but I have to finish this, I have to make sure she knows.
"I'm glad you said what you said," I explain pulling her even closer while I try to get out this next part that will be the hardest. "I know how strongly you feel about not having children now and that's okay. In fact, I'm glad you pushed the point because it made me realize you were right. I might have said it doesn't matter, but I do want children some day Katniss. I want a little girl who controls my emotions just like you do, a daughter I can teach to paint. I want a son to carry down my family name, a boy you can teach to hunt. And I'm not ready to just throw that dream away yet. I thought about it for a long time last night and I realized that it's okay we want different things. We're still young, we don't have to worry about those kind of things for a long time." I take a deep breath after rushing everything out in one breath.
I look deep into her eyes to make sure she really feels the truth behind my next words. "The only thing that really matters is that I want you to be my wife. I want you by my side always, no matter what we have to deal with. We'll deal with it together."
Instead of saying anything in response Katniss presses her lips against mine and kisses me fiercely, pulling me closer to her by the collar of my shirt. She pushes against me until I'm walking backwards and we stumble down onto the couch in the living room.
She finally pulls away and we're both breathing hard as she clings to me like her life depends on it.
"I'm so lucky," she whispers. "I am so lucky to have you Peeta Mellark. I've literally spent the last 3 hours trying to make myself look good for you, figuring out what I was going to say to get you to forgive me, and stressing out over whether I could ever make this right again."
She smiles sadly and kisses me softly again. "It took a little help, but I came to realize what you already worked out by yourself. It doesn't matter that we want different things right now. All that matters is that I love you and I want to be your wife."
Her words are like music to my ears and it feels like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders."Are you sure?" I ask just to make sure she is confident, that she has no doubts.
"Yes," she smiles, "I want to marry you. I love you. That's all I need to know right now. I don't want kids and you do, but that's okay. We can't predict what will happen or how we'll feel 10 or 15 years from now, but whatever it is we can handle it together."
That silly elation that consumed me after we made love on the floor of the back room in the bakery two nights ago when I asked her to marry me, and then again when she agreed, is swallowing me up again.
Katniss is going to be my wife. The thought is enough to make me laugh in delight.
I can barely contain my grin as I pull her against me and capture her lips in a kiss over and over again. I move to plant kisses down her neck and then to her collarbone. I try and pull her dress to the side to expose more of her warm flesh, but I soon grow impatient. I feel myself throbbing in my pants and it might be a combination of our reconciliation and this dress she's wearing that always drives me crazy, but suddenly I want her and I want her now.
It feels like if I don't take her this instant I'll lose it. My hand slips inside her dress to find the waistband of her underwear and no sooner am I throwing them to the floor. She tries to help me with my pants, but her hands are fumbling and I can tell she wants this just as bad. I barely manage to push my pants and boxers down to my ankles before I'm hiking up her dress and pushing inside her.
She gasps as I enter her, clinging to my back as I pull out and push in again. "Peeta..." she moans and it just makes me go harder and a little faster. We build up our pace until I'm grunting and she's screaming, both of us barely able to hold onto the edge before she comes and then I come and everything is perfect.
When we both finally recover enough to function we curl up on the couch, laughing that we were both so eager we're each practically still dressed. I throw a blanket over us and hold her, thinking that it feels different now between us, but in a good way. We're not two kids playing house anymore, we're not putting on a show for any cameras. We're going to get married and it's going to be for real.
When she whispers to me that she's not looking forward to Effie and Plutarch finding out and trying to make our marriage into some sort of spectacle I just chuckle and promise to make sure they keep it tame. She is quiet for a moment before she tells me that the publicity might not be that bad. That she's so used to it now after all these years and there is something she's especially looking forward too. When I ask her what she kisses me and smiles.
"Being Katniss Mellark."