As always, thank you to Burkygirl for making this readable for you all. I am going to lead off here by asking you to trust me. You will be a little upset but it's nothing bad and will be fixed I promise. I can't just write a fluff story. There has got to be something throwing off their little groove and it starts here. I'm on Tumblr as Peetabreadgirl. Come say hi!
PS - next update will be for Welcome Home, which has almost 140 notes over on tumblr. I haven't posted it here yet, but as soon as I get the second chapter done I will post them at the same time.
The sharp ring of my alarm splinters through my throbbing head. It goes off at the same time it does every morning, only this time I've been staring at the ceiling since 1 A.M. I'd love nothing more than to chuck it out the window, but I know that impulse isn't really going to solve anything. It'll only cost me more money, and my visits to Katniss have already cost me a grand.
I fell asleep as soon as I got home, only to wake up after midnight and the memories of what I'd done the day before kept me up until now. Questions - the main one being could I have done things differently - swirled through my mind in the early morning hours. To start, I probably shouldn't have drank so much. That had caused a major lapse in judgement, resulting in paying for more of Katniss's time. What am I going to tell Madge? I don't think any amount of honesty can explain not just one but three visits to a prostitute, even though she hasn't actually taken that leap yet. And then there was the run-in with her cousin, Gale. That had ended in my favor, saving Katniss's virginity and my own sanity. I cringe at what I must have looked like to him, half drunk and spilling her secret, begging for him to spare her.
Still at a loss for answers, I drag myself out of bed, wondering what will go wrong today.
It takes me longer than normal to go through my morning routine, and after I grab an apple for breakfast and lock the door behind me, I mutter a curse at the empty parking space where my car should be. I completely forgot that I took a cab home after my visit to the Lounge because I left my car at the sushi place, since I still wasn't sober enough to drive.
Knowing I'll be late for work, I call a cab to take me to my car and sit on the front stoop waiting, wondering why my life has begun to spin out of control. I am doing things that are completely out of the ordinary for me - forgetting where my car is, being late to work, getting drunk in the middle of the day. Irresponsibly charging up my credit card. Spending time with a virgin prostitute in a negligee. I think about Katniss, and how this obsession with helping her has to go somewhere. It has to end in actually making a difference in her life or what have I accomplished? Hundreds of dollars worth of lovely chats on my credit card at nineteen percent interest? I could list a slew of other offenses if I start thinking about Madge. I am an engaged man, playing with fire. Madge will certainly be furious. And even if she does manage to forgive me, will she ever trust me again?
The cab turns into the parking lot and the headlights slash through my pupils, blinding me for second and sending a shot of pain through my still-pounding head. I climb in, give the driver the address for the sushi restaurant and then slump in the back seat with a deep only takes five minutes to get to the bakery after I've located my car. When I pull into my parking space in the back, the headlights flicker over a small figure underneath the tree and my foot slams instinctively on the brake.
I finish parking, blinking and rubbing my eyes, staring into the rear view mirror, certain I'm hallucinating. It seems so much like my dream. Is she hurt? She must need something or she wouldn't be here, would she?
I scramble out of the car and my eyes immediately fix on that spot under the tree. The moonlight bounces off her hair and skin, making her seem ethereal. I feel a smile start to form, but it fades quickly as she approaches. Her lips are in a tight line and those silver eyes, two mini orbs of night like the one shining down on us, cast a biting glare. She stomps loudly over the small parking lot to me.
"Katniss, what are you-" I start, but she cuts me off.
"How dare you?" she seethes. I cautiously raise my hands in surrender as she pokes a finger on my chest. "What makes you think you can just come to my place of employment and tell me what I can and can't do?" Technically we should be talking about who she can and can't do, but this hardly seems like the time to bring that up.
"Katniss, I only meant to help you-"
"By taking food and rent away from me and my sister?"
"That's not-" I stop, defeated already. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I think of a way to fix this and explain myself to her. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I was just trying to help-"
"I don't need your help, Peeta!" She spits out, folding her arms across her chest when she's finished flinging them in the air. She may as well have slapped me across the cheek. "I never asked for it!" she continues, her arms finding life again. "Who do you think you are? Some knight in shining armor coming to rescue the lowly virgin from her big, bad circumstances? You don't get to decide my path for me!"
Her indignance fuels my own as we stand in the dark of the early morning. Katniss glares at me, and I can practically hear her nostrils flaring with every breath. I stare at her, uncertain of how to continue. To break the standoff, I turn to the back door and slide my key into the lock, leaving the door open in invitation. Walking in ahead of her, I drop the keys with a clatter onto the counter after flicking the light switch. When I see she's standing just inside the door, I walk back across the kitchen to close and lock it. She arches a mocking eyebrow at me and it pisses me off that after all I've done for her, she still might think I'm going to use her that way.
"Safety precaution," I respond, cutting my eyes at her in resentment before facing her fully and launching into my own irritated rant. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be a little more forgiving toward me. I have paid for many hours of your time to talk - just talk - to you. I haven't laid a finger on you out of respect, even though I could have." The only safe place for my hands right now is tugging at the roots of my hair, which I do furiously. "You even asked me to and I didn't." The silver of her eyes is barely visible through the furious slits of her eyelids as she moves to stand toe-to-toe with me.
"You're right," she says with a hollow voice, taking slow, deliberate steps toward me. I can feel everything we've built over the last few days being sucked away through an invisible vacuum. "You've paid for services you haven't received." She yanks her t-shirt over her head. It seems to fall in slow motion. Against her perfect skin is a simple, gray cotton bra. It's a complete 360 from what I've seen her in, but somehow it makes her more real, more… desirable. Like I'm seeing a side of Katniss that no one has ever seen. The alarms begin to go off like fireworks in my head when my mind catches up and I understand that she means to render the services I've paid for right here, right now.
"Katniss-"
"Take your clothes off," she demands quietly. I can see in her eyes she's determined not to owe me, but I can also tell she's unsure of herself in this role.
"Katniss-"
"Take them off," she orders again, clearly angry with my refusal. Stepping away from her, I'm struggling to keep my eyes only on her face. She follows me, and after another few steps she has me backed into the wall, her body flush against mine. Her cheeks are ruddy and she exhales in shaky bursts across my neck. I feel my cock begin to pulse inside my jeans as she leans into me, reaching for my waistband. I curse the part of me that wants to let her do this.
Thankfully, the warmth of her hands on the skin of my abdomen jars me into action. I jump away from her and immediately see the hurt my rejection has caused flash across her face. Dammit! That was not my intention. My heart shatters into a million pieces, and when I reach out to comfort her, placing my hands gently on her shoulders she flinches, knocking my hands away.
"Don't," she says bitterly. "I will pay you back, Peeta." I blanch at her statement. "Every penny. I don't know when, but as soon as I can."
"Katniss, that's not what I want."
"Well you obviously don't want me!" Her voice bellows through the bakery, her tone hinting at disappointment and her eyes full of… longing?
"That's not true!" I holler back. Her eyes widen, freezing the size of half-dollar coins, but I'm as shocked as she is. What the hell? I just told Katniss, albeit in a roundabout way, that I want her. Do I? When I think about it, the question comes to mind - what guy wouldn't want her? There probably isn't a straight man in this town that would turn her down. She's beautiful - more than beautiful, actually. She's stunning. And mysterious. Fierce. Brave, fearless and stubborn. Belligerent and sexy. Katniss is all of that and more, and every bit of it calls to me like a moth to a blazing flame.
"Then why won't you let me touch you?" Her whispered question pulls me from the dangerous path my mind wants to roam.
"Katniss," I say delicately, trying to diffuse the tension between us. "Not wanting you and not wanting to take advantage of you aren't the same thing." The realization that I do want her adds to the guilty weight around my neck. I've made promises to both Madge and Katniss. To one, I've committed my future and everything I have. To the other, I've pledged help and protection.
Katniss doesn't want it, a quiet but firm voice whispers in my head. She turned down your offer to work in the bakery. She came here to tell you to stop interfering. She's trying to rectify this feeling that she owes you. I honestly don't know what to do anymore. How could I have been so naive? I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped, and in trying I've possibly ruined my future.
Another glimpse into Katniss's eyes has my heart hanging heavy in my chest. They are full of confusion. She's still so pure in a way, but also unfortunately experienced in life's harsh realities. A ragged breath escapes me when it dawns on me that I can't keep doing this. I have to focus on what I can do, and not what I'm powerless to change. I can be the best man possible for Madge. She deserves at least that much from me. Hell, after this week she deserves the moon, the stars and the friggin' sun to make up for everything.
"I don't think we should see each other anymore," I croak out before I can think about what I'm saying. I need to distance myself from this hold Katniss seems to have over me. She has no idea of the way she pulls me to her.
"W-what?" She looks at me as though she can't believe what she just heard. Honestly, I'm shocked as well. "What do you mean 'we can't see each other anymore'? In case you haven't noticed, Peeta, you're the one that's been doing all the seeing." Her defenses are up, arms folded across her chest, hipped cocked to the side, eyes shooting very pointed arrows at me. I'm stunned to silence by what I let slip out that I hadn't even registered her asking me if that was all I had to say. Moments later she's slipped her shirt on and is at the back door, calling to me over her shoulder. "Don't interfere in my work again." The force of the door meeting the frame rattles the windows. And then she's gone, leaving a hole bigger than I could have expected, and wondering exactly what it is I've just screwed up.
I catch Rue watching me throughout the day as I stumble through a haze of confusion. I barely had the muffins and sweet breads ready when the doors opened at five, and I've dropped a countless number of items, including a knife, at my feet. I couldn't find focus if it were dead in front of me and marked with a bullseye.
I did the right thing. I know I did. So why is it killing me? I turn my thoughts to Madge, who comes home in two days. My stomach roils at the knowledge that I'm going to have to spell out what I did, and even though Katniss and I didn't actually do anything, I can only imagine what it's going to look like to my fiance. What it would look like to me if the shoe were on the other foot.
I was always going to have to tell her about this week, but exactly how honest do I need to be? Does Madge need to hear how attracted I've been to another woman? That Katniss got my cock to stand at attention more than once without even touching me? I'm already going to have to tell her why I even took on this project - the dreams. I've avoided telling her about them until now for obvious reasons. What woman wants to know the man she's said yes to spending the rest of her life with can't get a starving hooker out of his subconscious?
"What are you thinking about?" I jump in surprise as Rue's inquiry cuts through my complicated mess of thoughts.
"Nothing much," I say casually, lying through my teeth and hoping she can't read my mind. I shudder at what she would find if she could. Glancing at the clock, I see it's almost 2 P.M.
"I'm almost done here," I tell her, astounded that I've managed to finish most of my day's work before quitting time. "Can you sweep up for me?" I ask Rue sheepishly. She's such a great employee and I hate to saddle her with my share of the chores, but I need to get out of here. I need to be completely alone so I can lay out step by step the plan of action for resolving this predicament. I don't want to mess up any more than I already have.
"Distracted?" she counters with a knowing look.
"You could say that."
"If you need someone to talk to…" she tapers off. I give her a genuine smile. I'm touched at her sincerity, but there is no way I can tell anyone but Madge about this.
"Thanks, Rue, but I'll be okay. Just ready for Madge to come home." That's the overstatement of the year.
"Alright," she concedes. "But get some rest will you? Those bags under your eyes are so heavy they look like they're carrying watermelons." The sentiment has me grinning. The first smile that's cracked my face in the last twenty-four hours. Maybe more.
I tell her thank you again, dropping my apron in the laundry basket underneath the counter. The keys are in my hand and I'm out the door before any more conversation can be started. I need a shower and a long nap before I can process anything else.
The pillow is warm underneath me as I wake to a buzzing sound, dazed and confused about where I am. One glance around the room confirms I'm at home, in my bed, but the events from the week begin to swirl around in my head and a cloud of reality settles back over me. I must have been sleeping hard to have forgotten everything that has gone on since Madge went away.
The buzzing continues and I fumble underneath my pillow searching for it. I squint to adjust my eyes to the brightness of the screen. The number is a familiar one. The Lounge. I bolt upright, my head spinning from the sudden motion, but I answer the call anyway, before I remember my resolve that Katniss and I need to go our separate ways for me to right things with Madge.
"Katniss?" I ask with an edge of concern in my voice that is miniscule to the amount of concern I'm feeling.
"Gale," the voice corrects. My heart stutters, undecided whether or not it feels relieved.
"Gale," I repeat his name. "Is - is something wrong?"
"Yes," he answers, then he retracts it with a sigh. "No." The elevator ride my heart is on is making me nauseous.
"What is it?" I demand, allowing him to sense the determination in my voice.
"Are you-" he pauses again.
"Yeah?" I ask again, feeling like I'm pulling teeth here.
"Katniss has a potential visitor tonight," he states bluntl. "And it's not you." The strings attached to the elevator break, sending my heart plummeting deep underground. I knew this morning that this could happen. Would happen, if I'm being honest. I had to let her go. She was right, I can't decide her path for her, but that doesn't make this pill any easier to swallow. I'd been hanging onto some small glimmer of hope that she would choose differently.
"And?" I wince, my voice sounding severe and uncaring to my own ears. I can't imagine what they sound like to his.
"I was wondering if you wanted me to run your card again so I can tell the guy she's booked?" he asks hesitantly.
"No. I'm out, Gale."
"You're out?" He sounds incredulous. "I thought-"
"You can't help people who don't want to be helped." I echo my thoughts from earlier, even though it takes all I have not to hang up the phone and go down there to speak to her again. I roll my eyes at myself. I've known her all of four days and that's enough to know it's impossible to talk her out of anything she's got her mind set on doing, which is why I had to end it.
"That didn't take long, did it? Superman saw his kryptonite and walked away. Decided it wasn't worth it. You know, I thought you were different. That you might actually care enough about her to help."
"It's not my place," I bite back, fending off the way his statement tugs at me.
"You wanted it to be." Gale's allegation punches me in the gut.
"No-" I try to deny it but he cuts me off.
"I saw the way you looked at her picture the first night I handed you the card. The way you outbid the other guy for her. I saw the fear in your eyes yesterday when you begged me to tell the guy coming in that she was sick. You've called for her three times and haven't touched her once. If you just wanted to screw her you'd have been gone by now."
What he says hits too close to home. I turn my thoughts to Madge. I have to hold on to that - to her - to keep me grounded in this situation. "You're wrong. That's not what I want," I answer before disconnecting the call. It feels like a lie.
It's been two days since I hung up on Gale. Two and a half days since I've seen Katniss. And I'm only one hour away from Madge walking through the door to the home we share. In spite of the news I'll be admitting to her, I hope having her back means I can sleep again. I haven't been able to close my eyes once and not think about Katniss with that blonde guy. Or Katniss with someone worse. Someone who wants to do unspeakable things to her. I've born witness to her demise three times just this week when I fell asleep. I don't know why my nightmares are about losing her, but they are. I've begun to dread the night, waking up in sweat-soaked sheets, panting until I realize it's not real. The first two times it seemed so real that I reached for the phone under my pillow to call Gale and tell him Katniss was in danger.
The drives to work have been just as torturous, picturing her with the random men who pass me on the street, silently seething at them for something they most likely haven't done. I wish Gale hadn't called. I wish I didn't know what became of her. I don't know how to unfeel everything. Showers don't help. Alcohol is not my friend. Sleep is my worst enemy. I just want Madge to come home and this to all be over.
The lock on our front door jiggles, signaling Madge's arrival. I hop off the couch and slap my face a few times, trying to get myself to snap out of whatever this is that's got me down. I'm nervous. My stomach pitches as the door swings open, revealing Madge's tanned face and blonde hair pulled up into a knot at the top of her head. I barely notice how the white sundress and cropped denim jacket she's wearing flatter her figure I'm so jittery.
"Hey, you," I greet her, pressing a kiss to her lips.
"Hey, you," she repeats, smiling at me as I lean down to grab her bag and haul it to our room. I deposit the bag near the closet, and turn around to ask how her trip was, but she hasn't followed me into the bedroom. Instead, I find her in the kitchen, guzzling a glass of water.
"How was the trip? No cabana boy canoodling, right?" I joke, trying to lighten my heavy mood. Madge chokes and spews water across the counter, wetting the mail I retrieved earlier.
"What? No!" she cries, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Why would you ask that?" I reach for a towel and pat the mail dry, then hand it to her so she can wipe any stray droplets off her skin.
"I was just joking, Madge," I try to grin at her, but I have to look away. "Gah, you're so easy." I brush imaginary crumbs from my shirt and then meet her gaze. Her eyes stare a hole through me so intense that I wonder if she can read what I've done across my guilty expression.
"I just… wasn't expecting that as a hello from my finace, that's all," she explains. I wrap her in a hug, wondering why I haven't done it yet, and feel even more guilty than before.
"I'm sorry. It's been a long week. You wanna sit down?" I pull her to the couch and pat the seat next to me. She sits down, our thighs touching, my hands folded in my lap. "Tell me everything. Don't leave out one detail."
"Oh, it was pretty boring actually," she says, pulling at a thread on the arm of her jacket. "Not much to tell. Well, we did go snorkeling," she relays, deciding there must be something about the trip worth telling. "Saw some dolphins. Did you know dolphins can have sex with humans?" I scrunch my face in disgust and Madge lets out a high pitched giggle. "Just something we heard from Franco."
"Who's Franco?" I ask.
"Franco? Oh!" she says as if she didn't realize she said his name. "He was our, um, tour guide. For our, um... tours. He was full of lame information like that," she says flippantly, pulling at the knot on her head until her hair tumbles down around her shoulders. I watch, mesmerized, picturing dark locks instead of light ones. I blink away the image and mentally slap myself for allowing my thoughts to slip back to Katniss while Madge is sitting right here in front of me. How would I feel if she were thinking about some other guy?
Madge yawns and stands up. "I'm gonna grab a quick shower. Let's order chinese when I'm done, kay?"
"Sure. Yeah. Whatever my baby wants, my baby gets," my voice follows her down the hall. She turns to stare at me, a perplexed look covering her sun-kissed face. I've never called her baby before and never in so macho a tone. I scold myself for overcompensating and practically laying my guilt at her feet and try to smooth it over with, "I'm just glad you're home." Her smile is big but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Then she disappears into the bedroom.
I wonder if she knows? No. That's impossible. Still, though, for my sanity I run through the list of people who know about my week. It's pretty short. Just me, Katniss, and Gale. Neither of them know Madge, so there's no way she could know through them. I've been checking the mail every day out of paranoia that someone is going to open my credit card bill and find those charges, even though I know it'll be a week or two before it's due in my box.
I rack my brain for reasons she's acting a little bit 'off'. Madge is usually confident and straightforward. Nothing catches her off guard. That will probably change as soon as I drop my little bomb on her.
After ordering and picking up the takeout from our favorite Chinese dive two blocks over, Madge and I are sitting on the couch watching the episode of Blindspot she missed while she was away last week. When the food is gone and there is still twenty minutes of the show left, I reach my arm around Madge's shoulder and pull her into me. She stiffens at first, which is strange and makes me wonder again if she has a clue, but then she quickly relaxes and places her hand on my chest.
"Is everything okay? You seem…" I pause, trying to think of a word that's not offensive, like 'moody'. I learned that lesson the hard way. "...tense," I decide, certain that one can't get me into trouble. And for added measure I begin to rub her shoulders. She releases a sigh and leans her head forward.
"I guess I am a little tense," she answers. "The wedding's in four months." Right. I didn't forget, it just hasn't been on my mind as of late.
"Yes, it is. I'll do whatever you need. Put me to work," I offer. She turns her body to face me then.
"I missed you," she says quietly. Her eyes roam my face, catching my gaze a few times only to flit away quickly. I feel guilty again because I was so busy trying to help Katniss I didn't really have time to miss my fiance. Not trusting my voice right now, I hug her tightly into my chest instead of repeat the words.
"Let's go to bed," she says shyly, pulling me up. Madge has never been shy with me, so I'm not sure where this is coming from, but I let her pull me down the hall, my free hand flicking the light switches as we go.
We separate as she gets ready for bed. I sit down on the edge of the mattress, watching her purposefully. Her dress comes off and I can see the tan lines from her bikini. I love tan lines. Her skin is dark and smooth like browned butter. Her back is to me so I can't see anything but the cross-crossed lines of her swim top when she removes her bra, tossing it into the the dirty laundry basket.
She slips on a cotton t-shirt, brushes her teeth, combs her hair and climbs into the sheets. I follow her lead, stripping my clothes off and brushing my teeth as well. When I slip under the covers, she reaches for me, pressing her lips to mine in an unexpectedly chaste kiss.
"I'm tired tonight," she confesses. "You don't mind if we delay my homecoming til tomorrow night?" Before I can answer, she's snoring softly. I'm sure I won't sleep tonight, but not for the same reason that's kept me up the last week. Tonight, I will lay awake wondering why I am relieved by her question.
Not too bad, right? Quick reminder - I am an Everlarker, so that's my endgame here. Please, oh please, trust me. Honestly, though, how many of you would have rolled your eyes if Peeta had run to her rescue again? And probably you would have stopped reading my updates… Talk to me! Is this story keeping you interested? Pbg