A/N: I totally rewrote Peeta and Linna's reunion. But I got a request for Peeta kissing Linna, so I included it here. Oh yeah, I also had a request for some Gale/Linna… I'll see what I can do next chapter.
I have absolutely no clue what extra kneading does to bread, by the way; I totally made that up. Enjoy, I only own Linna and Rory, who is a girl, and 14!
Patiently, I stand near the back of the crowd. The train will be arriving any minute now. Though my heart is nearly leaping out of my chest in anticipation, I will stay back. Undoubtedly, there will be a crowd for the victors.
The train pulls in, and my breath catches. My doubts and fears come flooding back: What if I have been forgotten? What if Peeta no longer cares?
The door opens; a mass flows forward. I see Gale staying back too, and I catch his eye. He gives me a half-smile before turning back to the train.
Katniss exits first, pushing through the crowd to barrel into Gale and give him a huge hug. A moment passes, two… where's Peeta?
A foot breaches the doorway, then a hand; finally, Peeta strides out. His father catches him in a smothering embrace, nearly crushing him in the process. When Peeta finally escapes, he scans the crowd; he does not come barreling towards me, as Katniss did to Gale. No, he greets the crowd instead.
My heart sinks, but I force myself to stay put. He'll come to me when he wants to. Fifteen minutes, a half hour, and finally one full hour pass, and still Peeta does not come. I accept the fact with a torn heart and half-heartedly head back to the bakery.
Though it is long past closing time, I unlock the door and light a few candles. I bring out some unfinished dough and knead it. This will be a rarer rye bread; my extra kneading will make it light and fluffy.
As I pound the dough, my thoughts are driven away by the dull, monotonous thump, thump of the cutting board. I put away the dough after an hour of kneading and start to fiddle with a bread knife. It is dusty; I bring out a rag and attempt to polish it a little.
I hear the front bell ring, signaling someone has entered the shop. I silently curse and hope it is not a thief. Concealing the knife, I creep out to the counter.
A shadowed figure is glancing about. I am about to throw my weapon when the figure walks into the light. "Easy, Linna," Peeta limps towards me. "Put the knife down."
I am stunned, and my grip loosens. The knife slips from my hand and impales the floor, barely missing my foot. I bend over to pick the sharp object up.
"Don't," Peeta says, and I pause and stand straight up.
"Hello," I say mildly. "Nice seeing you. Came a little late though, hmm?"
Peeta looks confused. "What do you mean? I knew I'd find you here now."
I shrug, apparently nonplussed. Really though, I am waiting to hear if I was right. "Well, I waited an hour in the station for you. You never came." I say, my voice level and calm.
His eyes widen with shock. "Linna, I- I was- I was talking to the crowd!"
My fears are confirmed. Peeta has completely forgotten about me. I take off my flour-stained apron and wash my hands. "Can you close up?" I ask, tossing him the key. "I'm leaving now."
Peeta catches it and nods mutely. I walk out the door, trying not to cry.
/*\
A few days later, I am home ill. It is not something that happens often, surprisingly, but when it does, I am always struck severely. I have a splitting headache, my stomach heaves up my meager breakfast, and, according to Rory, a high fever. I groan and ask her to send to Mr. Mellark that I am home sick. Within a half hour of the children leaving for school, Peeta comes to visit. He knocks, and I call, "Door's open!"
Peeta enters with a cup of broth in one hand and tries to give it to me. I say in response, "No food. It all ends up in there," I point to a small bin lying next to my cot.
Peeta pulls up a chair and sits in it; he seems to understand that there is nothing to do but wait the illness out. To my relief, he stays with me instead of heading back to work. Peeta tells me stories, plays games with me, and even paints a picture of him and me while I am sleeping. After many hours growing more and more confused, the fever makes me so delirious I don't know where I am or what I should be doing. I giggle and sit up. I see Peeta next to me and lean into him. He puts his arms around me and I sigh in delight. Suddenly, he leans in too, and our lips meet.
My mind melts; all that matters is Peeta and me, together. I am gone, swept away by pure bliss.
Everything comes crashing back as Peeta pulls away from me. For what is probably the hundredth time, my heart breaks. My mind refuses to stop replaying the last moment, especially when Peeta pulled away.
I sink back down into my cot and curl up under the thin blanket. I catch sight of Peeta staring at me, looking horrified and guilty. I bury my face in the pillow and let the cold overcome me, shivering until I have to clench my teeth to stop them chattering.
All the while, Peeta is silent. Eventually, I look up to see he is gone. I fall asleep and dream a happy dream for once: that Peeta kisses me, and does not pull away.
I wake up feeling a little achy, but that's natural when I was sick. Overall, I feel much better. I am able to keep down the half-piece of bread I have for breakfast, and head on over to my father to give him his. Only when I look at him, he is not breathing, and his heart is not beating.
For a moment, I feel panic, and then sadness weighs me down like a heavy winter coat. He has finally just given up.
I resolve to bury him tonight, before I meet with Gale. I head on down to the bakery to face another day of pounding dough. Hopefully, the familiar rhythm will keep me from going berserk.
