Hey guys! Sorry I'm kind of late.
But I have a chapter for you guys filled with Everlark fluff! It's a bit short, but I hope you guys like it. There are some grammar and spelling errors, but I really wanted to update for you guys today.
I own nothing.
KPOV
Lying on my mattress, I force myself to close my eyes. I toss and turn, unable to get a wink of sleep. I groan and throw my sheets from my body. I pull myself up, propping my elbows on my knees. Holding my head with my hands, I look out into the darkness of my room.
I'm thirsty.
Tiptoeing out of my room, I let my feet lead me into the kitchen. I take a glass from the cupboard and turn on the tap. I let the water pour up to the very top of my glass, and then I close the valve. Walking ever so quietly at the balls of my feet, I try to get to my room without waking anyone up. But, as I pass Peeta's room, I realize that he is already awake with the light pouring from the crack of his door.
But that isn't the only thing that indicates that he is not asleep.
I hear him. Maybe it's in my head, or maybe I'm really hearing it. I believe it is the latter when he reaches the highest note of his song. Dare I say, but his voice is angelic. I can hear the strumming of his guitar while he sings along the lyrics. Even through the door, blocking me from hearing him clearly, I know that his voice is almost as wonderful as my Father's.
I've been a rolling stone all my life
Flying all alone, flying blind
I've seen it all, I've been around
I've been lost and I've been found but
Who I am with you is who I really want to be
You're so good for me
And when I'm holdin' you, it feels like I've got the world in my hands
Yeah, a better man is who I am with you
I've got a ways to go on this ride
But I got a hand to hold that fits just right
You make me laugh, you make me high,
You make me want to hold on tight, 'cause-
Who I am with you is who I really want to be
You're so good for me
And when I'm holdin' you, it feels like I've got the world in my hands
Yeah, a better man is who I am with you
With my head spinning with emotions, I stumble away from the door. There are tears threatening to spill from my eyes, but I shake my head, refusing my weakness to show. Biting my lip, I rush into my room and close the door with a click. Then, I sink to the floor, and I cradle my head with my hands.
I miss him. I miss Father. His smile. His laugh. His voice. Just him.
Peeta's voice, although it is touched with a Southern accent, can sing just like Father can. Peeta can sings notes as high as a bird's chirp, or as low as a man's laugh. It makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. Father's voice had that effect on me too. Until he died, of course.
Dragging myself to bed, I cover myself in blankets although it is hot. But I don't care. With a few tears still streaming down my cheeks, I try to find some refuge in oblivion. It's takes a long time before I reach my destination.
But, I dream in one of the best dreams I ever had since Father died. I dream of Father singing the same song Peeta sung, with my hand in his, walking along tall grasses in a meadow. Blue skies, fluffy white clouds, the warm sun beating down our skins. Us smiling. Us laughing. Father singing.
When I wake up from my dream, I'm still smiling.
…
PPOV
"Ma didn't come last night," I say to Pa as we prepare the food for the horses..
"I know, son," he replies. His eyebrows furrows as he adds grains to the mixture.
"Did you call her?" I ask.
Pa shakes his head.
I take a couple of buckets from the corner of the barn and bring them over to Pa. He scoops a bit of the mixture into each bucket. He nods at them, and I pick them up. I bring them over to the horse stalls, and I pour the food into the separate troughs. I pet Mockingjay as he eats greedily.
"I don't even know why Ma wants to sell 'em," I mutter as Pa stands behind me.
"I will never allow her, y'know. Your grandpa will never forgive me. I mean, these horses have been here a long time. It's their home as much as ours," he states. He smoothes Mockingjay's mother's coat with his hand. Then, he turns and faces me. He looks at me in the eye and says slowly, "Are you plannin' to stay here?"
I search his face. It's indifferent. Or, at least, he's trying to keep it that way. This farm means a lot to him, it has been in the Mellark family for years. He never really implied it before, that he wants me to keep the business going, but I know he wants me to. But, luckily for him, I love the farm as much as he loves it here. I'm not like Rye or Bannock, who wants to live the fancy life in New York or down in Broadway. Or Ma, for that matter. I want to live here, keeping the farm going for generations to come.
So I tell him honestly, "Yeah." I don't bother elaborating; it is a simple answer as that. Pa nods, comprehending, and he leaves the barn wordlessly.
By the time I reach the house for a glass of water, I already find Katniss sitting on the couch. She suddenly says, "I never knew you could sing."
I stop dead in my tracks. She heard me last night. My cheeks heat up furiously and I mutter underneath my breath, "So you heard me last night?"
She blushes and nods. "You're good," says Katniss.
My eyes meet the ground. "Thanks," I tell her. "I never meat to be that loud. I just…really enjoy music. Have been playing guitar since I was, like, four."
"I could tell," she nods at me. "My father…he had a good voice like yours. Your singing reminds me of his."
"Thank you," I say quietly. I don't extend the conversation; I know this must be a sensitive topic. She never had spoken about her family before. Her father's passing must've been tough on her.
Surprisingly, she continues, "Father had the most beautiful voice. It could've gone as a high as bird's chirp or as low as a man's laugh. It made me want to laugh and cry whenever I used to hear him sing. He was a wonderful man."
"I bet he was," I agree.
She ignores my comment and carries on, "That is why when I heard you last night I felt like I was hearing my father again." Them, she looks down at her feet. She claspses her cup tightly in her small, shaking hands. I can barely make it out, but I hear her. She says, " Can…can you sing for me?"
I hesitate. I never sung in front of anybody before. But I can't refuse. Her eyes are filled with so much hope; I could never turn her down. So, I nod slowly. I reach for her hand, and she takes it. Wordlessly, I take her into my bedroom. She sits hesitantly at the side of my bed, and I take out my guitar from its case.
I try thinking of a song I could sing for her. I wanted to sing a nice, short, but sweet one. I investigate the list of songs I have sung and known for the past 17 years, but all of them seem to have gone clear in my mind. I almost curse. But, then, a song pops up in my head. I have to admit, it is way too sappy, and it sounds like what a young boy would sing for his crush at a grade school dance. Katniss wouldn't like it. She'd probably be creeped out and walk away from me, never to be seen again. But it's the only one I remember. Although Katniss is looking awfully patient for me to sing something, I know the clock is ticking. So I gulp down my fears and start strumming the chords nervously of my guitar without looking at her.
Once in every life You were in my arms January through December Now my broken heart Now my broken heart It's too sad to write
Someone comes along
And you came to me
It was almost like a song
Right where you belong
And we were so in love
It was almost like a song
We had such a perfect year
Then the flame became a dying ember
All at once you weren't here
Cries for you each night
And It's almost like a song
But it's much too sad to write
Cries for you each night
And It's almost like a song
But it's much too sad to write
At the last note, I drop my guitar in my lap. I don't even look at her. I can't. With my head spinning, my body sweating, I just want to run away and never look back. This is stupid. No, I'm stupid. I don't even deserve to be in the presence of Katniss. Oh dear God, what will she think of me? I'm such a stupid dork. A stupid Montanan boy singing about sappy love songs like a seven-year old. I should just leave. She probably has her mouth agape, with her eyes staring at me in bewilderment. Or maybe she's already gone. I can't tell. My head is already swimming with so many thoughts I cannot make out what's happening.
But, the thing is, I can feel what is happening. I feel small hands wrapping around my neck. I feel a body closing the space between us. I feel a head resting on my shoulder. I feel a breath on my neck. And I also feel tears wetting my t-shirt.
So, I open my eyes and find Katniss hugging me, and only with a second to spare, I return the hug. Wrapping my arms around her, we stay there for awhile. We don't speak. We don't move. We just stay there, in that position. And hell, I'd lie if I told you if there was somewhere else I would rather be.
She is the first to break our embrace. With her pupils diluted, cheeks flushed, and hair sticking out from her messy braid, she's the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She says quietly, "It was beautiful, Peeta. Thank you."
I'm left with my thoughts by the time she leaves the room.
…
KPOV
I help Farl out with milking the cows. It's easier this time. I'm able to fill a gallon of milk by the end of the milking, and Farl smiles at me when he sees the container.
"Good job, Katniss," he says, placing a head on his shoulder. He grins a fatherly grin at me, and it's almost like he is proud of me or something. I have to admit, I am glad that I've made him proud. Maybe I'm not that worthless after all.
"No problem, Farl," I respond. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Hmm," he contemplates, holding his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I need some help with making the animal fodder."
"Um, what is that?" I ask.
Farl laughs. "It is when we use hay to make the food for the animals like horses, cows, and sheep."
"Oh," I mumble.
"Can you bring Peeta over? He might be in the barn and he can teach you all about hay," says Farl.
I oblige, and I walk towards the barn. The door creaks when I push it open, and I search for a blond-head wearing a cowboy hat. Soon, I find him, over at the cattle trough pouring something in it. "Hey, Peeta," I call out.
He turns to me, flashing me a toothy smile. "Hi Katniss. What's up?"
"Your father wanted you to show me how to make…uh…animal fooder?" I tell him dubiously.
He guffaws. "Fooder? Um, sorry Katniss but I think he meant fodder. It's okay though, animal fooder, animal fodder, same thing"
I let a smile stretch across my face. "Okay, alright then. Show me how to do it, then, farmboy."
Suddenly, he walks over to me and takes my hand. His hand may be calloused and rough, but they are warm and strong against my small, cold hand. He leads me out of the barn, and he slows down so we are walking side by side. Although I feel uncomfortable under a male's touch, I have to admit that it feels nice. It sends ripples in my body and it causes my head to spin. And I have this sudden urge to hug him, like I hugged him a couple of hours ago after he sung that beautiful song to me.
Soon, we reach a field with a few haystacks lying here and there. There is also this big blob of hay almost eight feet high. "Wait one second," Peeta says, letting go of my hand. "I just forgot to get the wheelbarrow and pitchforks." I nod as Peeta leaves.
When he returns, he holds two pitchforks in his hands. He smiles at me, and I walk over to him and take one of the forks.
"Alright, just...uh, pick the hay up with your fork and gather a bit over in this pile," he instructs. I begin working, sectioning the hay into separate piles. Peeta works along with me, and it seems like he is getting far more work done than I am. A bead of sweat rolls down from his temple, and he breathes heavily. The sun heats the crown of my head, and I am aching for relief from the warmth. Soon enough, I find Peeta sprawled out across the gigantic haystack, with his head thrown back resting on the hay. His chest rises and falls quickly as he gasps for air. I follow in suit a couple of minutes later, finding refuge from the sun in the haystack. Peeta and I lie in the hay for awhile, catching our breath before we resume working.
However, when I sit upright, ready to work again, Peeta laughs a hearty laugh. "Tough working in the farm, eh? Especially with the sun and all?"
"Yeah, I guess," I mumble. "I don't know how you stand it."
"Well, I usually don't," he admits, getting up from his position on the hay. He sits up, and continues, "But it makes things better now that I have such a great view."
"View?" I ask, turning to him. He gives me a crooked smile, with his eyes slightly shining in mischief. "What?" I turn around, looking around my surroundings. I guess the farm is nice. But it's only a large field.
Finally, I realize what he's talking about. I scowl. I whack him on the shoulder and turn away, crossing my shoulders. At the corner of my eye, I find Peeta on the ground again, with his head back and eyes closed. He laughs loudly. "You're such an idiot," I snap.
He snickers for a couple of minutes. Soon his laughter falters and tells me, "Hey, it's true, city girl. You are hella good looking."
I feel my cheeks burning up. And it's not because of the sun. "Well, I could say the same for yourself," I blurt all of the sudden. The second I say it, I snap my mouth shut and look down. Shit. Although I don't see him, I know he is smirking. This only causes my face to flush even further. I get up all of the sudden, clenching my teeth. I should really leave.
"Hey, Katniss," Peeta says. I turn to him. Even under the layer of sweat on his skin, I can see he is blushing. But he is also smiling, with his crystal blue eyes bright. Peeta runs a hand through his blond curls, and tips his head back into the hay. He looks straight up into the sky, watching the clouds as they slowly drift across the blue canvas. "Frankly, I'm quite flattered you find me good looking. Especially from such a beautiful girl like you."
I snort. "I bet I'm not the first one to say that to you," I mutter.
He rolls his eyes and chuckles. "You're right. But who's saying it makes all the difference." He then turns to his side, facing me. I narrow my eyes at him.
"You're such an idiot," I repeat again, looking away from him. "I'm no special than any other girl walking across the street. Stop acting like that."
"You have no idea. The effective you can have," he tells me, ignoring my last comment. He stares at me intently, his blue irises becoming larger, brighter, and purer. Is he telling the truth? Biting my lip, I keep my eyes on him, watching his every move.
"You have no idea, either," I reply slowly.
What are we doing? No, what am I doing? Why am I admitting my deepest, darkest secrets about him? This is so stupid. What was the point of this? Nothing. This all started since I hugged him earlier. Why did I even do that? That stupid boy. That stupid boy and his voice. That stupid boy and his eyes. That stupid boy and his stupid effect he has on me.
I don't even realize I'm grasping the straw beneath me so tightly. I'm holding handfuls of it, and there is sweat pooling in my palms. Peeta's eyes follow to my hands, and he raises his eyebrow. Before I can even process what I'm doing, a bunch of hay is thrown into Peeta's face. His curly hair is covered in hay, and a couple of straws fall onto his face.
It is silent for awhile. Until he guffaws.
He picks out the hay from his head, and gathers it up into his hand. I expect him to place it back into the pile, but instead he throws it right back at me.
"What the hell? What was that for, farmboy?" I snap as the hay sticks to my hair. I gather up even more hay in both of my hands, and I walk over the laughing Peeta. Then, I dump the armful of hay on his head. He stops laughing, only to gasp in surprise. He shakes his head violently, letting the straw drop from his head.
All of the sudden, Peeta grabs my waist and spins me into the haystack. I fall into the hay in a great impact, and I yell in shock. Hay falls all over the place, and it is to the point I'm blinded of my surroundings. But, I can hear Peeta'a laughter, and that causes my face to burn in revenge. I get up quickly, and I find that farmboy standing around with his arms crossed arrogantly. That causes me to charge right into him, and I push him into the pile. But, he grabs me along with him, and we fall together into the haystack. We yell and laugh. I'm on top of him, and he is under me. I'm holding onto his shirt tightly, except he doesn't notice. He just continues to chuckle.
I don't want to move away from him.
I lie on his chest, relishing the moment as long as I can. I feel his heart beating rapidly, and his breath shortening. I feel mine doing the same. But I want to stay here. In the haystack. In Peeta's arms. Lying on his hard chest. So we stay here. It is an unspoken agreement, but we both know what the other is thinking. I don't know if it's minutes, or hours, or if the entire afternoon passed, but we are still in each others arms, enjoying one another's presence.
It feels nice.
But, of course, the logical part of my brain takes in toll. I murmur, "Peeta," and I roll off him, out of his arms. I sit up, letting the hay fall from my hair. Peeta does the same. He gets up, and offers me a hand. I take it, and he smiles. His smile is soft, but sweet. It's shy and timid. What just happened awhile ago is still fresh in our minds. What we did was wrong, but why does it feel just so…right? I look away from him, but I still have my hand in his.
"Well, we've made a mess," he says, looking around. The sun is at the midst of setting, and we both know it's time to go. We nod our heads in agreement, and we begin piling the hay up with our pitchforks. Sooner or later, we are done with the hay.
"I'll pick the hay up tomorrow with my truck," he says, nodding to the piles. "Then we'll make the animal fodder. Together."
He smiles at me, and I allow myself to smile back at him.
So, yeah! Thanks for reading! Please, if you have time, review :D Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows from last chapter! :)
