Sorry that it has been awhile. I have been moving and all that jazz.
I wanted to thank all those who have been reviewing. If I haven't answered back a review from you I will work extra hard this chapter to.
I know that I'm more of an angst writer, but I wanted something a little light hearted and sexy for this chapter. There will still be angst, I just felt like a break.
Please tell me what you think. Please REVIEW!
Thanks so much!
Time goes by slowly and fast at the same time sometimes. It drags with memories weighing us down, reminding us bitterly of all the reasons we should be sorrowful or fearful. We fight through as we have always done. We save each other as we have always done.
It is sometimes hard to be as affectionate as I'm sure Peeta wants me to be. Occasionally it takes all that I have. It's not because of Peeta that I'm this way. There is such a tough exterior to me now, even worse than before. The sunshine of life is rarely let it. But I'm not the only one changed and even Peeta struggles with any kind of happiness at times. It's as if we are always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
We are getting ready for bed and Peeta is settling himself to wrap his arm around my waist. My shirt has hiked up a little revealing some of my skin. He brushes my side accidently and I giggle. I actually giggle. This strange little sound always elicits such pleasant reactions from him. He smiles back at me with unrestrained joy. I'm instantly embarrassed.
"What was that for?" He teases.
"Nothing." I shake my head. I would hate if Peeta knew my secret. I was ticklish.
"Nothing, huh? Katniss, you don't laugh for no reason." He scoots closer to me leaning on his elbow. "You're not ticklish…are you?" His smile is mischievous and dangerous.
"No, not at all." I lie badly.
He lifts his hand and I try to prepare myself to act indifferent to his touch. But once he caresses the skin right under my ribs where the burn scars aren't as present I laugh again. The sound is totally involuntary and it feels awkward, but it makes Peeta so happy. He uses more force and tickles me mercilessly. I beg him to stop and he concedes.
"That wasn't very nice, Peeta." I say but I don't sound serious. I sound breathless.
"I'm sorry." He says and goes in for a kiss.
I know though once I feel him smiling into the kiss that he's going to try again. I hold his hand back protecting my sensitive skin. He laughs and struggles against me to get at my ticklish spot again.
"No!" I'm chuckling because the look on Peeta's face is comically determined. My mind goes blank and I focus in on this moment alone. I feel light and oddly free. I'm too wrapped up in Peeta to remind myself about how heavy and miserable I should feel.
We lightly wrestle around in bed. I'm playing defense until I see a patch of skin from Peeta's ridden up t-shirt. I zero in on it and before I know what I'm doing I'm trying to tickle Peeta's stomach. He pauses and just smiles at me.
"Nice try, but no Katniss." He is hovering over me so I take my hands and try to tickle him near his ribs where I am ticklish. But things have calmed down. We aren't laughing. The only sound in the room is both of us trying to catch our breath.
He doesn't laugh when I try again so I move my hands over his body slowly trying to think of another place. His eyes grow dark and it makes me shiver. I try underneath his arms but he just stares back at me with this smug smirk.
The smirk disappears when my hands begin to explore in earnest. I have forgotten my beginning mission. I can only concentrate on the expanse of Peeta's skin. There is the smooth soft skin that I can feel goose bumps form. Then there is the scarred skin that has its own kind of beauty. It's the beauty of survival.
I bunch his t-shirt up before I look up to him for permission. He nods his head allowing me to take his shirt off completely. I gulp down my insecurity and fear. I'm not sure what I'm doing but I suddenly feel like I need to see him, feel him this way.
I push on him gently and he rolls over for me on his back. I am meditating on a particularly intricate scar when I notice a patch of his smooth skin nearby has pebbled under my attention.
"Are you cold?" I ask concerned I was making him uncomfortable.
"No." He answers.
I'm confused for a moment until I come to an understanding. The way that Peeta makes me feel might be the same way I make him feel. I trace over each muscle contemplating this.
"Peeta?"
"Mhmm." He responds back looking thoroughly relaxed.
"What does it feel like when I kiss you?" In some ways I wish I hadn't asked the question. It's hard enough for me to describe what I feel when we kiss let alone allow it to take over me.
"It feels like…" He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. I become nervous that I won't hear what I want to hear, but even I'm unsure as to what that might be.
"Sometimes I lose my breath just thinking about touching you."He pauses gathering more words. I struggle with my instinct to shut down or worse, blush.
"I have to concentrate so hard on the feeling when you kiss me because I feel like sometimes you want to pull away before I'm ready." I don't say anything to this because I know it's the truth.
"I memorize the feeling of your mouth. Soft, warm…sometimes needy. I file it away into a safe place where no amount of torture could ever touch it." His hand traces my face and I have a feeling he is memorizing the contours of it.
"I try so hard to remember because I don't ever want to ever forget again how it makes me feel." He breathes out as if what he's saying is harder than I think it is. It doesn't seem that way to me at first glance though, but then Peeta has always been good with his words.
"It makes me feel safe, loved, and free. So very free because I thought this feeling was taken away from me forever." The room falls silent again as I notice something rise up in me.
He almost lost what I had taken advantage of for so long. I can't imagine feeling confused as he was over my feelings for him. I was confused in my own way for a time, but his confusion was so tragic. I couldn't imagine thinking of Peeta as my enemy.
My hand has been ghosting up and down his chest the entire time he was confessing. I can't stop touching him. Can't stop the emotion I have creeping up on me knowing he feels like I do, and somehow I have the ability to put him so at ease.
I look away for a moment scared of what I'm going to say. Because once I say it I won't be able to take it back and I won't be able to stop saying it. He knows because I've expressed it, but not directly. It's not that I don't want to either. I really do. I want him to know without a shadow of a doubt that I've picked him. I want him to know he's the only one and honestly there has never been another threat if I really admit the truth.
"I…" Hesitation strangles me for a moment. "I love you, Peeta." He reaches and stills the hand preoccupied with moving across his body. He sits up. His hand nestles in my hair and pulls me closer.
"I love you, Katniss." We kiss languid and intense.
I feel the irrevocable change in us already and I can't bring myself to feel anxious or regretful over it. He lies back down and I follow him never giving up his mouth. The hunger, or the need as he called it, sings clear and strong and I hang onto like I'm proud of it. I never let anyone in but I let him in. That's something to have pride over.
He rolls over and I'm under him. This is my favorite way to have him. His body covering mine is like a warm blanket on such a cold night. He makes me forget and feel things that are so surreal yet the truest things I have found.
I move my legs and he moves so he is settled in between them. I gasp when I realize the intimate position we are in. He pulls back slightly and looks at me. His eyes speak concern as if he thinks that I'm uncomfortable. He has misread me though because to me he feels like he was always supposed to be exactly where he is now. I pull him down and kiss him with all the fierce passion I can muster.
Something changes in me. I want him. All of him. I don't know what this means or where it's going to lead but I'm too carried away to think about that right now. I am consumed with the idea that there is nothing that will stop us either. No Hunger Games, no war. Just us. I run my hands all over his shirtless body. I'm obsessed with feeling the warmth of him. It intoxicates me and my hips push up to meet his in some primal move. He moans and I feel triumphant for some reason.
Peeta is just as eager as I am. His hands begin to wander down my sides. At first I'm perplexed over what he wants but when he caresses the side of my breast through my shirt I understand. Slowly and carefully his hand moves to cover me. His touch ignites my skin in a fire and I begin to wonder if he knows what he's doing because I don't.
My breath picks up with a puzzling mix of fear and longing. He groans again, but this time much louder. Suddenly, I'm pushed into reality and my desire becomes more rational. My insecurities creep in and I slow down.
"Are you okay?" He asks me when he feels the change. I nod my head and try to catch my breath. He knows instinctively to stop because he doesn't continue.
"That was…intense." He says softly. I nod my head again.
"Was it okay…I mean…is it okay…that…" He is silenced by my kiss. My hands run through his hair and I feel him melt into me again. It's a different intensity now.
"I like being close to you." I whisper feeling like I've let go of another secret.
He rolls away from me and onto his back. He gathers me into his arms and gently kisses the top of my head. I watch for a long time as his chest slowly stops heaving from our excitement. The blood in my veins still races though as if there is some point to all of this that was not met. I want to ask Peeta how he feels, but my heart has closed down for the night. I can only open up one step at a time.
"By the way…" Peeta begins.
"What?" I look to him. He smiles.
"My feet are where I'm ticklish." He admits almost proudly. I laugh pure and free. I don't feel embarrassed about it this time.