A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading! A HUGE thank you to amelinazenitram for being a fantastic beta. You're amazing.
Peeta's hair glowed orange in the light of the fire. It reminded her of his favorite color. On more than one occasion, they had each sat at their respective houses and watched the sunset together, the pinks, purples, and oranges permeating the sky.
The last strands of daylight had faded a couple of hours ago. Most of the district was out celebrating the Harvest Festival in the town square, dancing and laughing with their neighbors. It was the one day a year that hunger and desperation seemed far away. Children played, teenagers flirted and giggled. For one night, they had all the time in the world. For one night, the reaping did not hang over their heads.
Peeta stood with a group of kids from school. A part of Katniss longed to join them, but she had carefully constructed a wall between her and Peeta that kept them from interacting. Hearing his voice aloud was always a jarring experience. It was familiar yet foreign at the same time, like hearing the tune of a favorite song she had long ago forgotten.
Peeta caught her eye across the square and smiled. She ducked her head. She didn't know why she had come. The Harvest Festival was more of a celebration for the merchants, the ones who could afford to splurge on a lavish dinner. While she and her family had scrounged together a worthwhile meal, they would go back to being hungry tomorrow.
She was from the Seam: hungry and dirty and desperate. She had nothing to celebrate.
It didn't matter that Peeta would accept her into his circle without question. He had invited her to join him and his friends numerous times.
But she couldn't. She had her place. He had his. There was no overlap.
Peeta's conversation began to filter through the buzz of laughter and voices around her. The group was talking about sneaking off with a bottle of white liquor. Katniss could feel Peeta's reluctance to go along with the plan. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he feared getting caught. For most of the kids it would mean a couple of weeks of no friends and extra hours in their families' businesses. For Peeta, it could mean a broken bone.
"You should go," Katniss whispered. Shadows hid her mostly from view. If anyone saw her talking to herself, they probably weren't surprised. "I'll keep an eye on your mother. I'll make sure she doesn't go looking for you."
Peeta glanced over in her direction once more, but he couldn't find her.
Let's do it, Peeta said.
Less than twenty minutes later, after procuring alcohol from an older sibling, the group sunk into the dirt behind a dark house. They sat in a circle and passed the bottle around. It smelled like the liquid Katniss's mother used to clean a wound. It burned a trail down Peeta's throat, and Katniss nearly gagged at the taste.
"That's disgusting," she told him. She was about to say more when Gale caught her eye and waved. She returned the greeting, and he came over.
"Hey, Catnip."
"Hey," she said.
"Having a good time?" he asked.
Her gaze swept over the crowd. Mrs. Mellark was still gossiping with Mrs. Cartwright, a haughty look on her face.
"Yeah."
Peeta took another long sip, but Katniss maintained a straight face. Her head felt a little foggy, but she could sense Peeta was worse off.
Lainey, a slender blonde from their class, inched closer to Peeta as he passed her the bottle. Katniss felt the heat from the girl's skin as she placed her hand over his.
"Are we still on for tomorrow?" Gale asked.
When Katniss didn't immediately answer, he nudged her shoulder.
"What?" Katniss asked. "Oh, yeah. Tomorrow morn—"
When Lainey kissed Peeta, Katniss felt two opposing reactions at the same time. Half of her felt furious, betrayed, while the other wanted to sink into the sensation of soft lips against her own.
Peeta pulled away, eyes wide. Katniss desperately wished she could read his mind. His emotions tangled with hers, and she couldn't tell the difference between what she felt and what he did. And she needed to know what he was thinking.
Her unasked question was answered when he leaned in again, cupping Lainey's cheeks. His fingertips disappeared into her hair.
"Katniss?" Gale asked.
She turned toward him, unable to speak. Lainey let out a soft moan, and Katniss acted on instinct. She stood on her tiptoes, and pulled Gale into a kiss.
How odd and intimate, this moment, her first kiss. She did nothing more than press her lips against Gale's. He was the one to push it further, his tongue dipping into her mouth.
Beneath the scent of liquor, Katniss could smell the soap Peeta used, and flour, a scent he could never wash off. She felt his lips moving, his tongue exploring, and it was her. He was kissing her.
She hummed her approval, lost in the sensation of Peeta's mouth, his hands moving into her hair. An unfamiliar heat sparked within her chest, setting fire to her insides.
More. She wanted more.
When Peeta pulled away and she opened her eyes, she was alarmed to find Gale staring down at her, his face a mix of confusion and desire.
"Katniss, I—"
"I have to go." She spun around and ran, ignoring her name being called over and over. Her last image of Peeta's night was Lainey's face, her plump lips swollen from his kiss.
She ran and ran, blocking out Peeta's voice and the memory of his mouth.
How could she have been so stupid? Why had she turned to Gale? She should have been happy for Peeta. He was her best friend, and he had finally gotten his first kiss at the age of fifteen.
Now she had, too.
As she tried to fall asleep an hour later, she faintly heard Peeta calling her name, but she ignored him. That night she dreamt only of him: his face, his hands, the perfect cupid's bow of his top lip. But he was always at a distance, disappearing into the dark, his hands entwined with Lainey's.
The next morning, Katniss didn't show up to hunt. When she saw Gale again three days later, neither brought up the kiss.
Katniss reports to the bakery at 7:00 AM.
Mr. Mellark greets her with an easy smile. There is bread in the oven, nearly done baking, and an assortment of pastries waiting to be sold. Usually the display cases are bursting with desserts, but they are emptier than usual this morning.
"Have you ever used a cash register before?" Mr. Mellark asks.
While she has never physically touched one, she has watched Peeta ring up customers a few times. Between attending school and trading goods, she's decent at math, but she's pretty sure the machine does the work.
Mr. Mellark gives her a brief demonstration and jots down a quick price list of the bakery's most popular items.
"If you need help or have any questions, I'm right in the back."
Katniss surveys the empty bakery and raises an eyebrow. "Have you been working by yourself?" There's so much baking to be done, both for the morning and afternoon rush. She's not sure how he manages.
"Uh, it's usually me and Peeta." Mr. Mellark scratches the back of his neck. "Rye stepped in the past couple of days, but he has his own job to do."
Right. Last year, Rye married Millie, the daughter of the town grocer, and he now runs the store. He would have limited down time to help his father.
"Oh. Of course. Your wife doesn't help?" She doesn't know why she asks when she already knows the answer.
Mr. Mellark offers her a tight smile. "On occasion."
He switches the sign in the door from closed to open before disappearing into the back.
After a few minutes of studying the price list, the bell over the door signals the first customer of the day.
Mrs. Cartwright and Delly.
Great.
"Good morning, Katniss!" Delly greets her.
"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Cartwright blurts out.
"I'm helping out while Peeta is…away." Katniss stumbles over the last word. She's not sure that's the most appropriate way to describe his situation, but it sounds more promising than saying 'gone.'
It's less permanent.
Mrs. Cartwright harrumphs her disapproval. Delly rolls her eyes and orders two loaves of bread and a raspberry danish. Katniss fetches the food quickly enough, but she hesitates when it's time to ring up the order. Under Mrs. Cartwright's scrutinizing gaze, the machine no longer appears as simple as it did a few minutes ago.
Katniss stalls by double-checking the price list before hesitantly entering in the numbers. Her finger slips and adds an extra zero, nearly doubling the cost of the order.
She sighs and starts again.
"Honestly, I'm sure Lincoln can find someone a little more capable," Mrs. Cartwright mutters to her daughter.
Katniss glares down at the register as she recites the total. Calculating the change goes much smoother, and the drawer pops open a few seconds later.
"I hope he's watching for sticky fingers." Mrs. Cartwright gives Katniss a knowing look.
Anger makes Katniss's fists clench at her sides, but she swallows her harsh words. She doesn't want to scream at a customer so early on her first day.
"I'm sorry, Katniss," Delly says. "My mother likes to preach manners, but she has no idea how to practice them herself."
Mrs. Cartwright's mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
"Mr. Mellark is lucky to have you helping him while Peeta isn't here. He'll appreciate that when he…he comes home." Delly forces a smile, takes her order, and walks out the door.
Mrs. Cartwright shoots one more glare in Katniss's direction before following her daughter.
The rest of the morning follows a similar pattern. Every person who comes into the bakery wears a stunned expression when they notice Katniss behind the counter. Most pretend it isn't a big deal, but there are some like Mrs. Cartwright who are downright hostile.
"Shouldn't you be in the mines?" Mrs. Shelton asks.
"Where's Mr. Mellark?" Mr. Thispin asks. "Does he know you're here?"
And so on.
It's nearly noon when Peeta's voice drifts over her, smooth and warm, like honey.
Hey Katniss, think I can— He cuts himself off as his senses take in her surroundings.
As the bakery drifts into his view, the training center appears in hers. Peeta waits in line to practice climbing across the ropes course.
She feels the drastic turn his mood takes, the weight that suddenly settles on his shoulders. She knows he can smell the fresh bread, the frosting on the cupcakes, the cinnamon from the apple pie. There are more scents that she cannot identify, but she knows Peeta is cataloging all of them now, one by one. She doesn't need to be able to read his mind to know that.
"Peeta, don't," she whispers.
Are you, he begins. Are you…?
"Yes," she breathes. "I'm at the bakery. You can't let this upset you. Peeta."
The line in front of him moves. Blue is behind him, and she shoves him forward into the empty space.
His yearning for home is sharp and terrible, like the hunger pains that used to wake her in the middle of the night. She wants to burst out the bakery door and run to her own little house, wrap her arms around Prim and her mother, and never let go.
"Katniss?"
She whips around to find Mr. Mellark standing in the entrance to the kitchen. Peeta is entirely useless now, his mind no longer in the training center. No, he's clawing his way across the two thousand miles that separate him from the bakery. He's trying so hard to get home.
"Do you need a break? You can sit in the back while I cover the front for a little bit."
"No, that's—"
Say yes.
"Are you sure?" he presses.
"Actually, I would really like that," she says, even though she knows it's a terrible idea. The kitchen is Peeta's place. It's where he spends the majority of his time. More than school, more than the front counter, more even than his own house.
It's Peeta's turn to climb the rope. When he doesn't move, Blue pushes past him.
"You need to focus," Katniss whispers as the door shuts behind her.
She walks around the kitchen, running her hands along the countertops. Moments later, Blue jumps down on the other side, and Peeta is the only one left.
Flour coats one of the counters. Katniss uses her fingertips to spell out Peeta's name. He takes a deep breath and pulls himself up.
She smears his name away and traces the word BRAVE, then STRONG. Peeta's trek across the ropes appears effortless. His upper body strength is impressive, thanks to years of tossing around hundred pound bags of flour. He is halfway across when Mr. Mellark sticks his head into the kitchen.
"I'm sorry. I need some help up front."
Peeta falls to the ground. The careers burst out laughing, and Katniss winces.
"You're stronger than this, Peeta," she says. He is dazed and unsteady on his feet. There is a fist around his heart, squeezing, squeezing.
"You're stronger than all of them," she says.
He walks toward the knot tying station, too absorbed in his thoughts to notice Kai staring him down. Kai moves past him, and kicks Peeta's leg out from under him. None of the trainers notice.
Peeta hits the ground with a hiss of pain. It is enough to jolt him out of his reverie.
"Show him how strong you are." She knows Haymitch advised against showing off, but she cannot stand the arrogance that radiates off that hulk of a boy, a volunteer who thirsts for the blood of the rest of the tributes. She will not allow him to view Peeta as easy prey.
I can't, Peeta mumbles as he gets to his feet.
"Show them you're not to be underestimated. Show them you're a threat," she orders before returning to the front counter.
Peeta shoots a glare in Kai's direction, but Kai is already off with the other Careers, laughing over Peeta's fall.
He approaches the medicine balls, picks up the heaviest one, and heaves it across the room. It slams into the spears, scattering them along the ground.
Peeta's breathing is unlabored. He's barely broken a sweat. His gaze holds Kai's for a long moment before he heads to the knot tying station.
Once Mr. Mellark returns to the kitchen and the afternoon rush abates, Katniss focuses on the rest of Peeta's training. She chimes in at the centers she already has knowledge of. She is especially helpful with identifying plants and instructing Peeta on how to make a snare. She even forces Peeta to try the bow and arrow. He holds it up, draws it back, and the arrow flies, not even close to hitting the target. He tries again while Katniss critiques his stance. She mimics his actions and takes aim at the front window. The string is tighter than she is used to. It feels clumsy in her hands.
"Be careful," Mr. Mellark says behind her.
She jumps and drops her arms as if to hide what she was doing.
"We just got that window fixed."
"I'm sorry. I was just…" She trails off, unable to come up with an excuse.
"I get it. You probably have other responsibilities you need to get to today. Tomorrow, same time?"
"Oh!" Katniss says, surprised to be let off before closing. She still has a couple of hours of daylight left. The whole day is not lost. "Yes. Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait, Katniss. Before you go…" Mr. Mellark produces a paper bag full of miscellaneous pastries and half a loaf of bread.
"I can't accept this," she says.
"You worked hard today. You deserve it."
"But I'm working to pay you back for the window."
Mr. Mellark waves his hand. "That needed replacing anyway. You probably did us a favor. I should thank you. Really." He presses the bag into her hands.
This time, she doesn't argue.
Just like that, the three days of training are over. Peeta receives a score of 8 after his private training session.
Marjorie earns a 4.
Katniss settles in on her family's threadbare couch to watch the interviews with her mother and Prim. Kai is bloodthirsty, confident. The crowd loves him. Blue acts coy, but anyone can see the danger vibrating beneath her skin.
Few others are memorable. Poor Marjorie is small and soft-spoken. Even Caesar Flickerman has trouble eliciting much of a response from her. Katniss knows that any potential sponsors have immediately forgotten her once she steps off the stage.
Peeta is all smiles in his red and black suit, his blonde hair pushed back, held in place by who knows how much gel. He looks handsome, desirable. Approachable. Kai and a few other tributes may possess good looks, but Peeta is something else entirely.
He jokes with Caesar about smelling like roses, which earns a laugh from the audience. Caesar praises him, asks if he has a girl waiting for him back home.
A sharp pain slices through her at the question. She remembers the kiss he shared with Lainey three years ago, the chaste dates he went on with a couple of other girls from school. He's never had a girlfriend, but she's seen the way the girls stare at him.
"There is this one girl that I've had a crush on forever…" Peeta blushes and glances down at his lap, as if too embarrassed to continue. "But we've had to keep our relationship a secret. Our parents wouldn't exactly approve."
Katniss tastes bile in the back of her throat. She has no idea to whom he could be referring. She thought they told each other everything. She's with him so often, too. How could she have missed a secret girlfriend? Could it be Delly? She was always at his side.
Lainey? No, they barely spoke.
It dawns on her then. It's Madge. It has to be. Katniss has seen them interact only a handful of times, but Madge was insistent on seeing him before he left. Katniss stayed out of Peeta's head during his goodbyes, not wanting to intrude on those private moments.
Madge gave him a gold mockingjay pin, an heirloom from her family to use as his district token. Such an expensive gift. Surely, she wouldn't give it to someone she barely knew.
Maybe she gave him something else. Katniss touches her lips and feels sick all over again.
"Well, I'll tell you what, Peeta. You go out there, and you win this thing, and her parents won't be able to refuse you."
"That's what I'm hoping for." Peeta smiles out at the audience, but his mouth wilts at the corners, hinting at the sadness underneath. "When I get home, I'm going to ask her to marry me. We want our love to be eternal. Especially now, after everything that's happened, we don't want anything or anyone standing in our way."
His words start off sweet, but they grow sharper as he continues, his confession of love turning into a threat. Against the Careers. The other tributes. Maybe even the Capitol itself.
Somehow, Katniss doesn't cry.
Later that night, Katniss sits out on the back porch, the heat from the day fading into a cool summer breeze. She feels Peeta nearby, stepping out onto the roof of the Tribute Center, still dressed in his red and black suit.
She wants to greet him, but she doesn't know what to say – not when she feels so betrayed.
Hey, Katniss.
She pulls the rubber band out of her hair and begins to undo her braid.
Are you ignoring me? he asks.
If she really wanted to ignore him, she could shut him out. But she can't. Not now. Not the night before. But still, what can she say?
Katniss, about the interview…
"Is it Madge?" she blurts out.
What?
"Have you been seeing Madge?" she asks again. "How could you not tell me?"
No, it's not Madge. It's not anyone. How could I possibly have a secret girlfriend without you knowing?
Katniss shrugs. Her face is arranged in a mask of indifference, but relief floods through her, as refreshing at the nighttime breeze. She knows he can feel it.
Haymitch told me that we're just stories to them, and I had to make them remember mine. Make them invested in my ending.
"So there really isn't anyone?"
Just you, he says quietly.
His words carry an impossible weight, much too heavy for her slender shoulders to carry. They can't do this. Not tonight. Not when it could all be over so soon.
"It's been you and me for a long time," she says.
Do you remember our first kiss?
The question startles her. "Our what?"
That night at the Harvest Festival. When Lainey kissed me, and you kissed Gale.
"Don't say it like that. You kissed Lainey back. And the second time, you kissed her."
Peeta chuckles. Okay. Sorry. I guess you do remember.
"Of course."
I kissed Lainey back because it felt like I was kissing you.
It was three years ago, but his words conjure up the heat of the kiss, the strange, unfamiliar sensation that unspooled inside of her.
She remembers wanting more.
Wanting him.
When I closed my eyes, I felt you. All around me. And then when you kissed Gale...it was like you were kissing me. Does that make sense?
She wants to say yes. She wants to tell him how she thinks about it all the time. She wants to tell him she regrets the space she forced between them because she foolishly thought she would have time to change her mind. She hadn't been ready before.
But she was ready now.
Or she would have been, if it weren't the night before the Games.
"Peeta…"
His name is an answer. He may not be able to read her mind, but he feels the love, the desire, the fear radiating off her.
I love you, Katniss.
"Peeta, please. You can't do this. Not now."
Then, when? Tomorrow? Because that's all I have.
"Don't say that. You're coming home. I'm going to bring you home."
And then what?
"What do you mean, and then what? Isn't that enough? To survive?"
You and me, I mean. I know you don't want to get married, and that's fine. We don't have to get married. But I want to be with you. Really be with you.
"Peeta…"
I can't imagine being with anyone else. Not with you in my head.
Katniss's back goes rigid as a burst of anger flies through her. "So you're stuck with me. You don't have a choice."
That's not what I'm saying. You know that's not what I'm saying.
When she remains silent, he continues.
How can I be with anyone else when I'm already yours? I've been yours since I was five years old, and I first heard you sing the Valley Song at school.
"You remember that?"
I remember everything about you.
Flickers of memories race through her mind. She always noticed Peeta, especially as she grew older and her dreams of him became more frequent. He was hard to miss, anyway: handsome, charismatic, genuine. He saved her life twice.
Now she was going to save his.
"I can't lose you," she says, and it's as close to an 'I love you' as she can get. Even though she cannot put it into words, she agrees with everything he says. He's hers. She's his.
Nothing else makes sense.
I'm scared.
"I know."
His fear is a living thing clawing at his insides. She carries its twin in her own chest where it tears at her heart.
I don't know if I can do this. If I can be someone else.
"A killer?" she asks.
I just don't want them to change me. Turn me into something I'm not.
"You won't," she promises. "No matter what happens, I'm with you. Okay? I know who you are."
Several moments of silence pass. Finally, in a quiet voice, Peeta admits, I don't want to die.
"Then don't."
The bakery is closed. The first shift in the mines is cancelled. The town square is quiet, empty. Everyone huddles around the screens in their homes, waiting for the countdown.
Katniss's mother watches at a patient's house. She is on hand, waiting to deliver the woman's baby.
Prim curls into a ball on the couch.
Katniss lingers in the doorway of the bedroom.
"You have your pin, right? The one Madge gave you?"
Peeta nods as he settles into his seat on the hovercraft. He winces when his tracker is inserted into his arm.
"If you need to talk to me, just tap the pin twice. Okay? I'll figure out what you need."
He nods again.
All too soon, the hovercraft deposits the tributes. Peeta meets Portia underground where she finishes dressing him: tan cargo pants, a long sleeve black shirt, boots. It's nothing impressive or striking. It doesn't hint at what the arena contains.
Portia wishes him luck before he steps into the tube. His whole body shakes.
"Breathe," Katniss says from her spot in the doorway. "Breathe. You can do this."
Haymitch told Peeta to avoid the Cornucopia. Told him it was a bloodbath. Told him to run, find water, and lay low.
Katniss worries what will happen to Peeta if he doesn't have any supplies or a weapon. Plenty of tributes have escaped the Cornucopia unharmed only to die of hunger, dehydration, or exposure.
They discussed their options last night, but never decided on a plan of action.
The sun is bright, overwhelming after the fluorescent light of the underground room. Peeta blinks and takes a deep breath. Everywhere he looks is green: hills, grass, trees. The Cornucopia sits in a wide open space. Beyond it lays the woods. To the left a cornfield. A speck of red in the distance looks like a farmhouse.
The countdown begins. Tears prick the backs of Katniss's eyes, but she will not cry. Now isn't the time.
10, 9, 8…
"I think you should run for the Cornucopia."
7, 6…
"You have me watching your back. You need supplies or a weapon. Something."
5, 4...
If you're sure.
3, 2…
"If I lose sight of you, I'll tell you immediately."
1…
"Now run."