I am sorry this took so long, lovely readers. This one was a beast to write, and I think it's always going to feel a bit unfinished. But hopefully it will suit. I will be going back to tidy up some past chapters and clean up inconsistencies there in the next few days. This chapter actually merits the M rating.
I do not own the Hunger Games.
My beta, The RPGenius, is a gosh darn saint, who jumped right into editing this and turned in around in record time, after weeks of slaving over multiple grad school final projects. To borrow a line from Brooklyn 99, you are the champagne of friends.
(Forget where we left off? I would too! After much temptation and fixation when it came to the subject of kissing Peeta, Katniss finally decided to do just that, and planted one on him right on the bakery's doorstep, bright and early on a Monday morning.)
Chapter 6: Sweep
Katniss was consumed by blushes while hunting that day. For the rest of the week, she and Peeta traded fleeting glances and secret smiles with every squirrel and loaf of bread that passed over the threshold. Even so, Katniss couldn't quite decide whether she could hardly wait to see him again, or if she'd really rather hide under that availing honeysuckle bush in the meadow, as she had in her childhood.
It felt like the week was racing by one moment, and standing still the next. Despite her jittery nerves, Katniss managed to make it to their meeting place. At first, it seemed as though nothing had changed. Peeta was circumspect and subdued in his greeting, so Katniss took her cues from him. They walked out of the Seam sedately. It was only once they'd reached the fringes of the abandoned coal warehouses, the ones a ways past the Hob, that Peeta tugged on her hand and led her into the nearest narrow alleyway, bracketed on each side by the rusting corrugated metal of the warehouse walls.
There, Peeta cupped her cheeks with his warm palms, and they shared a giddy look before their lips met in a kiss.
And then, they were everywhere. The hands that gently cradled her jaw line soon found their way to her back, before looping themselves around her waist as they both pressed closer together. Her hands, which had begun by resting lightly on the breadth of his chest, wound up clutching his shoulders, then sliding blissfully into the waves of his hair.
Katniss couldn't say how long they remained there, only that eventually the need for oxygen became too strong, and they were forced to part.
Peeta was grinning like a loon, and staring at her reddened lips as though he'd very much like to renew their acquaintance, after only a moment's separation. His obvious appreciation had her beaming right back.
He stepped back toward her, but paused. "That was okay?" he checked, breathlessly. At her emphatic nod, he swept Katniss back into his arms and kissed her senseless once more.
It was shocking, how easy it was for Katniss to fall into a routine that was wholly alien to her. Her mornings were spent anticipating the afternoon's trade, and she took to lingering at the bakery's back door afterward. Katniss was loathe to call what they were doing flirting, as she felt certain she would never behave so frivolously. The applicable term for their banter just hadn't come to her yet.
At any rate, every week became a long wait until she and Peeta could steal away into unseen nooks and niches, to kiss without worry of discovery. It was almost a game between them now, finding the new little hideaways all over Twelve to shield their embraces from a disapproving District.
On Sunday nights, when she'd returned to the Seam, Katniss would sink onto a chair by the fire, pleased and content. She didn't even mind Buttercup lounging at her side on those nights, the fuzzball smug and sated as well, after getting his fill of entrails.
One night, Prim came to join her with some knitting in hand, and stopped to look between the two. "Which one of you wants to play with the yarn?" she teased. "You both look like you got the canary."
Katniss managed to summon a grimace and grumbled at being compared to the mangy cat, but Prim merely looked at her with interest. "You've been in an awfully good mood lately. Uncommonly good," the younger girl said, arching an eyebrow.
"Why do your statements sound like questions?" Katniss countered.
Prim shrugged. "Keep your secrets, then. If you think you can. I'll know soon enough, I'm sure."
Watching Prim sit by the fire, Katniss noticed her sister sporting something new on her wrist. "What's that?" she asked, motioning toward the woven strips of rawhide fashioned into a bracelet around Prim's delicate wrist.
"You think I'm going to tell you?" Prim scoffed. "You know the basics of a fair trade - you have to give something to get something. So spill."
Katniss folded her arms, visibly closing herself off from the conversation.
"Well, then," Prim replied serenely, before turning to her knitting.
Katniss pursed her lips, resolute. No one was going to find out about she and Peeta, especially when things between them were so new and fragile. Not even Prim.
Since her father had died, Katniss had always been cautious, and always expected the worst. Self-indulgence and the pursuit of pleasure for its own sake had never been things she'd allowed herself. She hadn't even granted herself the luxury of missing them.
But with the change between she and Peeta, it was like the desire for all those experiences had been set free, and suddenly, Katniss had found something she was unwilling to deny herself. It felt reckless, it felt risky, and it felt liberating. Every second with Peeta was heady and exciting, and she'd never experienced something so potent before. Katniss couldn't help but want more of it, as often as possible.
She frequently reminded herself that the connection between them cost nothing, and hurt no one. The necessary secrecy surrounding it suited her preferences for privacy, and there seemed to be no limit to the feelings of contentment and enjoyment their activities engendered. For all the times Katniss and Peeta had innocently explored each other, nothing had lessened. Instead, the exhilaration and sensation between them had only grown, until she suspected it to be boundless. In short, Katniss found it perfect.
Her behavior would have mortified her a few months ago, but she didn't spare it a thought. She would have been horrified to see herself laying her affections bare before another and exposing weakness. She wouldn't have made any allowances for how happiness could change a person, either, tempting them to make themselves vulnerable, for the sake of welcoming hope back into their life. She would only have insisted that with such behavior, one was opening the door for a very rude awakening.
Whenever old thoughts like that trickled into her mind, Katniss pushed them back out, intent on simply enjoying her time with him. She tried not to ask herself exactly what she felt for Peeta, or where she thought they were headed, because she had no answers. The only thing Katniss knew was that she liked now.
It was with these thoughts that she strolled to the bakery's back door one afternoon, swinging her half-empty game bag and humming. With a quick check through the kitchen window, ascertaining that it was just Peeta inside, and not his shrew of a mother, Katniss hopped onto the doorstep and knocked.
Once he'd opened the door, Katniss was puzzled to see the smile disappear from his face when she drew the standard squirrel out of her game bag.
"I'm sorry, Katniss. We've raised our prices on bread loaves," he said regretfully.
"What?" she spluttered, barely concealing her indignation. Was the bakery having financial trouble? Why hadn't Peeta mentioned anything? A price hike was unfair, how would she continue trading with them?
He glanced quickly behind himself before leaning closer. "It's a squirrel, and a kiss," he stated solemnly. Attuned to detecting the slightest of motions from her years of hunting, Katniss noticed the corner of his mouth briefly twitch upwards before being forced back down.
Katniss crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, trying to look upset, or at least the tiniest bit put out at being misled. She failed on all counts.
Kissing Peeta on the bakery doorstep in broad daylight, even if it was just a brief peck, was a bad idea, and Katniss knew she should refuse. But he looked so appealing, and happy, and they were having fun. In Twelve, no less. She decided instead to play along.
"I think I'd like to lock in that price, Mr. Mellark. I hesitate to think where inflation might lead…" she deadpanned.
Peeta laughed appreciatively at her joke before glancing once more into the kitchen behind, confirming no one was about, before leaning in and sealing his mouth against hers.
It was a scant few seconds of bliss before they parted, but it would keep her until Sunday.
"Was it worth the expense?" he joked when they'd separated, exchanging a bread loaf for her squirrel.
"I'd say your prices are more than fair," Katniss smirked. "Just be sure none of your brothers try to trade me bread."
Peeta was still chuckling when she left.
That Saturday, Katniss returned from hunting to find Leevy sitting with Prim in their kitchen. The two were deep in conversation, and Prim was sealing up several packets of herbs as they talked. "Red raspberry tea is very helpful, and you can't go wrong with nettle or red clover," the blonde Everdeen explained.
Leevy nodded, listening intently, before turning towards Katniss. Since her toasting, the new Mrs. Hawthorne always went out of her way to be friendly to Katniss, and the Seam huntress strove to be equally warm in their dealings.
After exchanging pleasantries, Katniss offered her some of the summer blackberries she'd returned with, but the recent bride declined.
"I was just getting some advice from Prim," she explained. "You've got the sweetest, smartest sister there is, Katniss."
Katniss beamed and nodded her agreement. "I do."
Leevy stood to leave, but not before laying her hand gratefully over Prim's. "We'd be awfully lucky to have someone like you in our family, Primmy," she said with a wink. "Thanks again!" And with that, she gathered up the sachets of herbs and departed.
Katniss turned to the cupboard, restocking their supplies with what she'd gathered for the day. Prim stayed at the table, thoughtful.
"Leevy was wondering about herbs for fertility," Prim volunteered. Katniss knew the importance of confidentiality in her mother and sister's work, so she hadn't asked. However, it was impossible not to have picked some knowledge up over the years, so Katniss had suspected as much after hearing the herbs mentioned.
"Makes sense," Katniss replied
Prim stared off into the distance dreamily. "Can you just imagine, Katniss? Having a baby around?"
She shrugged, determined to downplay the appeal. "I guess. Sounds loud. And smelly."
But Prim didn't even hear her, lost in her own thoughts. "And being just toasted…it's so romantic," she sighed.
Katniss turned to watch Prim in amusement. Her sister was lost in a little world all her own.
"Sometimes Rory and I visit them at their new house after school. Leevy's got everything set out so nicely, and they're so sweet with each other. Rory would be like that too."
At this point, Prim was staring at the braided bracelet on her wrist with a soft, knowing smile, twirling it around and around. Katniss narrowed her eyes as something clicked into place.
At the exact moment realization hit her, Prim looked up abruptly, a remorseful expression on her face.
"I'm sorry, Katniss! I didn't mean to ramble about Gale and Leevy - I know that's kind of an awkward subject."
Katniss shook off her concerns, intent on confirming her suspicion. "I'm happy for them, it's fine," she dismissed. "Prim, what is that bracelet?"
The younger girl's eyes widened and her cheeks pinkened, and Katniss knew before she said it.
"It's- it's from Rory," Prim amitted. "And it's-
"-some sort of promise bracelet," Katniss finished.
Prim bit her lip and nodded, nervous and proud, all at once.
"I wasn't sure if I should tell you. I know you're not a big fan of change…" she trailed off.
Katniss took a deep breath. "No, this is wonderful news. Congratulations, Little Duck. You must be so happy."
Prim was suddenly shining brighter than the sun itself, and she bounded out of her chair to hug Katniss tightly.
"Oh, Katniss, I am! I can't believe it's really going to happen! We're going to toast right after my last Reaping next May!
Katniss felt faint. Things were moving very fast. Prim had just turned seventeen last month. Her final reaping was just under a year away. She couldn't wait for the day to arrive and pass, for it meant Prim was safe from the Games forever. But to lose her Little Duck right after? Katniss hugged Prim tighter.
"I was so worried what you'd think," Prim admitted. "I know it must be a surprise, but it means everything to me that you can see how happy I am with Rory." She sighed blissfully into the embrace before stepping back.
"I've got to tell Rory that you know, and that you're fine with it!" she exclaimed. "He's been expecting arrows to be whizzing at his head for weeks!"
Katniss mustered a chuckle, and raised her game bag. "I've got to skin these out back, so you go ahead."
Once Prim left, Katniss sat on a stump behind their little house. She was a little hurt Prim had hidden the news from her, but she couldn't pretend she didn't understand why.
Katniss sighed as she removed the squirrels and rabbit from her bag. She was happy for Prim. Truly. Her sister deserved every good thing the world had left to offer. But it was very difficult not to let her own fears regarding attachments and children seep into the way she looked at Prim's future plans. Apparently her sister had fewer reservations than she did. Was that a good thing? Katniss didn't know.
She did know that life would be getting very different soon. For Prim's sake, she tried to look at it as a happy development.
Staring at the roughhewn slats on the back of the neighboring Seam shacks, Katniss considered the standard living accommodations allotted to every couple with at least one work contract in the mines. Prim and Rory would have one of their own. She sat there pensively for some time, with only the squirrels and rabbit in her game bag for company.
The next day was Sunday, and Katniss waited patiently until late afternoon to meet Peeta. With the longer summer days, they could enjoy extended walks, but there was more chance of running into the odd person making the most of the extra daylight.
Peeta could tell something was bothering her, and he squeezed her hand as they set out. But as the time ticked by, Katniss remained subdued, and nothing about the cause for her current mood was forthcoming.
Peeta kept an eye out for a place where she might feel more comfortable talking. Though they always met at the abandoned shack between Town and Seam, they'd never gone inside - the door had fallen in on itself, and the sagging beams didn't quite look safe. And though they knew of little alcoves and nooks all along the outskirts of Twelve, none were the sort of place for stopping and talking in private.
Passing by the row of unused coal warehouses farthest from the Hob, Peeta spied a potential place. The lock had completely rusted through on one of the massive metal doors, and in an impressive feat of strength, he was able to push it just far enough to create a space they could squeeze through.
The air inside the warehouse was stale, and everything was stained black with old coal dust. It had settled out of the air and onto the walls and floor long ago, and golden rays of light were able to pierce the darkness through the small, dingy slatted windows high on the wall. Everything was eerily still, and completely silent. Most importantly, it was well out of the way of anyone out enjoying the warm weather.
Overturning a massive, empty crate, and dusting it off with a handkerchief, Peeta created a place to sit, and then gestured Katniss over. She sank down beside him, and he threaded his fingers through hers.
"Tell me what's the matter," he implored.
Her shoulders slumped and she scuffed her hunting boot along the floor, not meeting his eyes.
"Prim's as good as engaged," she revealed.
"Wow."
"Yeah. I know I should be happy for her, and I am, but I'm just….sad, too. I know that makes me a horrible sister," she blurted fretfully.
Peeta wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she closed her eyes against the welcome feeling of comfort that accompanied it. She didn't deserve it.
"Katniss, you know nothing could be further from the truth. Tell me why you're upset."
She furrowed her brows as she explained. "Of course this was going to happen eventually. I've only ever wanted Prim to be able to live whatever life she wanted. It just hurts that the moment she's free of the Games, she'll be slipping away.
"I guess I always hoped and assumed we would have a little time of finally being free from everything that had threatened us, of being okay despite the odds, before she left me behind," Katniss finished quietly.
"Where is it that you think she's going?" Peeta asked gently. "Where is this unreachable place in District Twelve?"
Katniss looked up at him questioningly.
"She'll still be right there with you, Katniss. Maybe a couple of houses away."
"It's not the same," she dismissed, and the twinge of petulance in her voice had him holding back a smile.
"It's not," Peeta agreed. "But you seemed to think she'd be happy there."
She nodded, the heartbroken concession in her voice painful to hear. "So happy."
"And what will make you happy?"
Katniss thought for a moment. "Days in the forest. Evenings with my mother and Prim. Sundays with you," she added quietly, peeking at him as she spoke.
Peeta smiled and tightened his arm around her shoulders. "You can still have all those things, Katniss. You'll probably see Prim a little less, or Rory a little more, but Prim will never stop needing you."
He turned to face Katniss, wanting her to see how much he meant what he said, and saw the first spark of hope he'd seen in her eyes all evening.
"She could never 'leave you behind,' because she's going to need you next to her every step of the way. Think of all the changes ahead of her. She'll need your advice and support, because being an adult is nerve-wracking. When something good happens, she's going to want to share it with you, because that will make it twice as special. All the times she'll argue with Rory, and will need a sympathetic ear, who do you think she's going to go to, Katniss? When things get tough, and she gets sick of him for a while, wondering if she can really make it work, you're going to have to be there to remind her of everything else you two have gotten through."
Katniss was looking at him with something akin to awe in her expression. "How do you know all that?" she whispered.
"Well, Ander's been married for a while. He was always so much older than me, that we were never particularly close growing up. But once he got toasted, we got closer. He loves his wife, but sometimes he needs to just be able to feel that simplicity from before, and reminiscing with a younger brother helps, I guess. And once he had a kid, it reminded him of all the times he'd take care of me when I was young."
Katniss listened raptly. Despite all of Peeta's amusing anecdotes, she still knew very little about his family's dynamic or living arrangements.
"Especially with Faren leaving, it brought us a lot closer. It's just us and Dad in the bakery mostly. Mom sometimes. And even though he lives a few streets over, Ander still joins us for breakfast every day before we open. Not everything has to change with a toasting."
"What about Faren?" Katniss asked. It sounded like the middle son had left them behind.
Peeta chuckled. "Faren never wanted to be a baker. We all knew he'd leave the business if he could. He likes to call it 'soft' work, and say it's not exciting enough for him, but baking requires its own kind of strength and finely-honed control, so his complaining never bothered any of us. Faren's fiercely protective, and he knew I loved baking. As a third son, it was probable that I'd have to go elsewhere to support myself. So he apprenticed with the metalworker, and I was able to stay here. I wasn't the only reason he did, but I think that was part of it,"
"Mom wasn't thrilled. I'm not exactly her favorite, and I think she was hoping Faren would stay. But even she can't deny I'm the best cake decorator in the family," Peeta added proudly. "He just told us that he and Lanni, the metalworker's daughter, will be toasting by the end of August."
"He's hasn't toasted yet?" Katniss asked, surprised. Peeta shook his head.
"Faren likes to do things in his own time, and not even my mother can hurry him. He wanted to learn the trade first. No my mother's furious that there's so little time to prepare."
Katniss returned his smile, enjoying the Mellark matriarch's consternation.
"So who knows? Maybe I'll see more of Faren once he's toasted. Lanni will probably chase him over to our place for a few more dinners, is my guess."
"And you think that means it will be the same with Prim?" she asked hopefully.
"I know it will be even more like that with Prim. You two are so close, and you're older. Prim looks up to you, and counts on you more than anyone else. You're her voice of reason."
Katniss let the comfort of his words wash over her. It was an amazing ability, the power he had with them. Nothing could look disheartening for long through his outlook, and he so generously extended it to others with his speech. The way he could transmute the nature of a situation, or transform her way of looking at things, was as amazing to Katniss as her prowess with a bow was to others.
"If she has children, you'll probably be her touchstone to sanity as well," Peeta quipped, the corners of his mouth quirking in jocularity, before his expression sobered once more.
"Do you really think anyone could walk away from you, Katniss?" he asked softly. "That sounds impossible to me."
Instead of smiling back at his attempt to lift her spirits, Katniss tilted her head upwards, and closed her eyes in a wordless request. She felt so happy, and so lucky, that Peeta wanted to spend time with her like this. That he wanted to soothe her hurts.
Peeta leaned over to touch his lips to her own. The movements of his mouth were soft and sweet, but Katniss wanted more.
She snaked her hand up to cradle the back of his head and slant his lips more fully over hers. Peeta groaned in response, and pressed against Katniss more urgently. Her breath quickened in pleasure at the change.
They'd become very familiar with each other's cues over the past weeks, so when
Katniss felt his fingers absently tensing and relaxing on her waist, she knew he wanted more.
Katniss felt the same. She leaned further over and wrapped her arms around his neck. Peeta began to run the palms of his hands along her back and sides in a way that left her shivering. On a few passes, the edge of his thumb just brushed the outer curve of her breast.
Although the contact lasted only seconds, it managed to set Katniss afire. Before she even thought about it, she was scooting over on the crate, shifting to get nearer. When that wasn't enough, she clambered onto his lap. Though surprised to suddenly have his arms even more full of Katniss, Peeta quite happily drew her closer.
And there they stayed. Each time the two of them parted to catch their breath, or switched the angle of the kiss, Katniss felt sure they would pause, finding the hunger between them had been sated. But it never stopped gnawing at her, and each passing moment only fed the flame, until Katniss was positively starving with it.
There was something different this time. She'd certainly never tired of kissing Peeta those before, but their stolen moments had felt nothing like this. Compared to those sweet flickerings of affection between them, this was a conflagration, and as it grew and grew, Katniss wondered if it could ever be quenched. There was something new heightening and deepening between them by the second, and Katniss squirmed closer to Peeta in an effort to catch it.
He abruptly broke the kiss, and angled slightly away from her, panting. "Maybe we should stop,"
"What? Why?" Katniss demanded. Stopping was the last thing she wanted to do.
"I just…need a moment," he said.
Her eyebrows drew together in question. "Did I do something wrong?" she worried aloud.
Peeta barked out a laugh. "Not at all, I assure you."
"Oh. Well, good then." And with that, she moved back toward him, intent on continuing. The only problem was, he leaned still further away.
"But I still need that minute or so," he insisted.
She sighed in acceptance and adjusted her position in his lap, trying to get a little more comfortable. Suddenly, she felt it. Her eyes widened in surprise as she stared down between them, and then all at once, she was scrambling off his legs to sit at his side, blushing hotly.
"Sorry," she mumbled, looking everywhere but at him.
Peeta dropped his head at her skittish reaction, chuckling humorlessly. Raisng his eyes back to hers, he scrubbed his hand over his face.
"Katniss, again, you've got nothing to apologize for."
"I wouldn't call it nothing," she blurted out, before clapping a hand over mouth. Her eyes widened comically in shock.
Peeta burst out laughing, and threw his arm around her as his mirth took its course.
Katniss loved the look of happiness on him, and couldn't resist nuzzling against him as the last of the laughter shook his frame. She feathered little kisses along his jaw line and up to his temple, then brushed her lips against the outside of his ear. Every shaking breath either of them took was distinctly audible, and Katniss was anxious to end her wait.
"How about now?" she asked, pausing in her ministrations.
He shook his head. "Not yet. Not when you do that," he whispered heatedly.
One corner of her mouth dipped into an impatient frown..
Peeta watched her closely, his lips quirking in amusement at her mounting frustration. He took her chin, and slowly brought her lips to his for a unhurried kiss, keeping the nature of it soft and sweet, before drawing apart to lean his forehead against hers.
Katniss slowly blinked her eyes open, and pressed her lips together, savoring the remnants of his kiss. That aching hunger, the kind she'd never known before now, had been quieted somewhat. It was waiting, subdued, and she could feel it smoldering like a slowly-burning fire.
But it was just as well, because the dusk was quickly bleeding into night, and the unused warehouse around them was growing dimmer by the minute. It would be time for her to be getting home soon.
She reluctantly rose. "Thank you for your perspective about Prim, Peeta. It really helped. You're always able to that."
"What?"
"Help. Make things better, even when nothing has changed. I'm not even sure how you do it. But you do."
Peeta stared up at her earnestly. "I hope I always can, Katniss. I'll always try."
Half a week later, Katniss was ravenous again. She felt like she had to see him, and she'd been dismayed when she hadn't caught any squirrels to trade him that morning. There were three long days until Sunday, and she was so hungry for Peeta, wanting to see him, touch him, just have him fill the space around her, that she was willing to look a little foolish. She couldn't get him off her mind, and it was maddening, like forgetting a word on the tip of one's tongue, and then agonizing over what it was for hours.
Prim and her mother were away on a house call, so she wouldn't have to explain where she was headed. She grabbed her game bag to serve as a flimsy excuse - she usually never traded after dark.
But once she'd reached the bakery, spied a single blond baker puttering in the far end of the kitchen, and knocked, Katniss found herself staring into the wrong pair of blue eyes.
She recognized this brother less, and he was very close to Peeta's build. It had to be Faren, the one getting toasted. Katniss wondered if Peeta was off for the night.
Flustered, she realized she didn't even have anything with her to trade. This was such a bad idea. She mumbled some sort of greeting, but Faren broke in.
"Katniss. I'm glad you're here." She stopped talking abruptly, surprised. "Look, my idiot brother won't listen to a word I say, so maybe you will. Peeta thinks he's all clever with the way he can talk circles around everyone, but he overestimates himself when it comes to our mother. You've got to-"
"Who's that?" A very welcome, familiar voice interrupted. "Katniss?"
She could hear his smile, and blushed at his obviousness in front of Faren. Peeta was pushing his way into view the next moment.
"Evening Everdeen," he greeted, and Faren rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance.
"Um…hi," she said, shooting Peeta a quelling look.
"Just my luck I needed to grab a new icing tip. Is this big oaf bothering you?" Peeta asked, edging his way in front of Faren.
"I was just trying to talk sense into one of you," Faren jabbed.
Peeta was quick to interject. "Well, I'm sorry, but I promised Miss Everdeen I'd make sure she didn't have to trade with riffraff like you, so you'll just have to excuse us-" And with that, Peeta stepped out onto the doorstep with her and pulled the door shut behind him, the sweep dragging along the stone in his haste. From the other side of the wooden barrier, she could hear Faren's aggravated grumbling, and the heavy footfalls that signaled his departure.
"Much better," he grinned. "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"What was he talking about?" she asked worriedly.
Peeta sighed. "Faren thinks my mother has more eyes and ears out than the Capitol. He's wrong, he's not here enough toknow. She's too busy planning her next fit to notice anything I'm doing," he said resentfully.
Katniss felt her mouth go dry with a terrible thought. "Are you spending time with me to get back at your mother?" she demanded, horrified.
"What? No! Never! Katniss, you can't think that. Nothing could be further from the truth," he rushed to assure her.
Peeta took her hand, and licked his lips, preparing to speak. Then he paused. Looking daunted, he released her hand, then took it up again as he drew a bracing breath and met her eyes.
Katniss waited on tenterhooks for whatever it was he was about to say. He wasn't usually so tongue-tied.
When he finally spoke, it was quietly, but there was conviction underlying it, firm as bedrock. "I've noticed you, thought of you, and cared about you, for most of my life.
"I wasn't going to tell you that for a while. But besides my family, almost my whole understanding of loving another person had its beginnings with you, Katniss. It originally started with the little details I knew from school, or ideas I had from observing the way you fought to raise your sister, but knowing you has only reinforced what I felt and thought.
"So when it comes to how I feel about you, and my relationship with my mother, nothing could be more separate, or more different."
Katniss searched his face, and found nothing but the truth of his words.
"Let me worry about my mother. Faren just likes to pretend he knows what's best for everyone when he visits. Luckily, I'm sure Lanni will cure him of that," Peeta added, smirking. "Now, what brought you here?"
"I, um, I just wanted to see you," Katniss said, distracted by what he'd imparted.
"And I'm not going to let myself feel that way," she blurted. "I told you that. I can't. Or won't." She met his eyes, challenging and apologetic all at once.
"That's okay, Katniss," Peeta answered. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then trailed his fingers down her arm to thread their hands together.
There was a lot to think about. "I should go," Katniss said after a moment.
Peeta nodded in understanding and squeezed her hand in parting. "Goodnight."
Katniss had plenty to occupy her mind leading up to their next meeting. Was she shocked by his revelation? Not entirely. Somewhat surprised, yes. Peeta had assured her time and again he would accept what she could offer. Given the duration of his regard for her, and his implication that it had only grown in the recent years, Katniss would normally doubt anyone's ability to wait around with no guarantee of reciprocation. But she believed Peeta when he said he would.
So she felt fortunate. Flattered. Even a little guilty, like she didn't deserve his devotion. But she would gladly accept it, because she cared about him too much not to recognize the worth of what was offered. The knowledge it was there felt like a cherished secret she could carry with her everywhere, hidden safely away where none could take it, but which still somehow shone out of her, plain to see.
The next time they were together, Katniss chose the route they walked, and she tried not to be obvious about the fact that she was directing them back to the warehouse with the broken lock.
She stopped expectantly at the entrance, but Peeta kept walking. Noting his companion had left his side, Peeta turned to look back at her.
"What is it?"
"Well, don't you want to stop here?" Katniss asked, trying not to sound as wildly hopeful as she felt.
"Here?" Peeta looked at the warehouse they'd broken into, the door he'd pushed open that didn't completely close anymore. "Why?"
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. Katniss hadn't thought she would even need to ask, let alone explain why. She'd just assumed he would be as eager as she was to return and continue what they'd started.
At the look on her face, Peeta laughed and tugged her toward him. "I'm only joking, Katniss. Of course I want to stop here."
She elbowed his side playfully as they snuck through the door. The large overturned crate was exactly where they'd left it, and almost as soon as they'd taken a seat, Katniss was back in Peeta's lap, cupping his jaw and kissing him voraciously.
The spark between them flared to life, and Peeta had his hands on her again almost immediately. He rested them on her upper torso, and lightly traced just beneath the curve of her breasts with his thumbs.
Sighing in pleasure, Katniss rolled her shoulders and shifted back minutely, just enough so that the modest swells were cupped in his waiting palms.
Peeta took a sharp breath in surprise, while Katniss moaned in appreciation. It felt amazing. She hummed when Peeta squeezed them gently, rubbing his thumbs against the sensitive peaks that were now discernible through her shirt.
They moved together seamlessly, and like the last time, Katniss became aware of his growing arousal. This time, however, she wasn't content to stop. When Kaniss felt Peeta was about to put some space between them, she curled her fingers around the firm muscle of his upper arms, and pressed closer.
She couldn't give him unconditional declarations, but she could give him this. And she wanted to.
He dropped his hands to hips as she rocked against him fervently, and he tightened his fingers as he pulled his mouth from hers.
"Katniss," he gasped, "you're okay with this?"
Her answer was nothing but a secret smile and the increased tempo of her movements, as the revolutions of her hips became more pronounced. Raising her right hand from his shoulder, she wove her fingers into the waves at the back of his head and brought his mouth back to hers.
In a few moments he broke the kiss again, pressing his face against her neck and taking great, shuddering breaths. By now he was helping to pull her against him, and raising his hips in counterpoint to her own. Katniss could feel everything building and concentrating within herself. They were both racing toward the same destination, but Peeta was well ahead of her.
True to observation, it wasn't long before Peeta pulled her tightly against him, until their hips were completely flush. He gave a soft groan, and Katniss thought it was one of the most wonderful sounds she'd ever heard.
It was like a fever breaking. Much of the heat firing his actions dissipated, and perspiration stippled his forehead. His eyes were fever-bright as well, blinking heavily up at her with happiness and gratitude. Katniss was hit by a rush of powerful affection, almost enough to overwhelm her, and a good deal of pride.
She dropped a quick kiss to his lips and slid off his lap. He tried to prevent it, his hands seeking stay her movement. "Come back here. I'm not done with you yet," he teased.
She shook her head, smiling ruefully. The want was still strumming through her, but nervousness was winning out. She'd intended this time to be primarily for Peeta anyways, and it was already getting dark. "Hush. Not today. It's late."
She gave him a moment to gather himself, and then he reluctantly joined her as they walked to the doors.
"Faren's toasting is just two weeks away," Peeta said.
"What did you end up telling him?" She wondered nervously.
"I told him that now that I have you near me, only a fool would think I'd stay away. He didn't like it, but he doesn't have to."
Katniss gnawed on her lower lip. "Maybe he'll focus on other things once he's toasted."
Peeta smiled at her reassuringly. "Faren's just playing 'interfering older sibling.' There's nothing to worry about. Except six long days until next Sunday," he said with a wink.
After a final kiss, they parted ways.
It was a few days later that Prim told Katniss a secret.
"Leevy's pregnant. She came to see Mom today, and then told me after," Prim whispered, in the dark of the bedroom.
"She's going to surprise Gale with it tomorrow," Prim confided excitedly.
Katniss tried not to let her mind immediately jump to the possibility of the child going to the Games, but she failed, just as she failed to suppress the sick feeling of dread and terror at all the harrowing Reapings she knew lay ahead
"Isn't that wonderful?" Prim prompted.
"Yes," she lied.
Katniss was quiet the next morning, and when she went to the woods, she didn't hunt. Keeping her eyes out for osage trees, she ran through the steps necessary to fashion a bow. She'd made Gale's from instructions her father imparted while he'd crafted the small bow she'd used as a child. Katniss still had it, secreted away near her father's lake, but she couldn't bring herself to give that one up.
Gale still hadn't shown an interest in reclaiming their friendship after his toasting, but Katniss tenaciously refused to completely give up on her old hunting partner. She wasn't going to approach him, but the newest Hawthorne should learn to hunt someday. Relying on others to survive was a dangerous thing in Twelve, she and Gale knew that well. He had never taught his siblings to hunt, so if something happened to him, his child needed to be able to feed itself.
She intended to help with that. Gale's baby would have a starter bow before it was even born. It was the greatest gift Katniss could think to give, and the best and only way she could come up with to help protect the child.
She told Peeta about it that Sunday, sitting beside him in the muggy warehouse that felt like it belonged to them.
"The thing is, Prim's ecstatic about the baby. She's getting toasted so soon, and I just worry that once she does, she's going to rush into things, maybe before knowing if she and Rory are ready to support a baby."
"Whoa, Katniss. Don't get ahead of yourself. Prim's not even toasting age yet. Just because she's excited about the Hawthornes' baby doesn't mean she's impatient to have one of her own. Talk to her about it. See what she says."
Katniss nodded. She knew he was right, and that she was worrying about things she didn't necessarily have to yet. But it helped to have someone to voice her fears to, and for that she was grateful.
"I just think it's amazing that you're making that bow. You're so...pure of heart," he said. "Even though you're scared and worried, you're still trying to protect everyone in your life. Even before they get here," he said with a smile.
Katniss laid her head on his shoulder, hiding the pleased smile his words had elicited in the folds of his sleeve. Even when she felt weak and incapable of making things better, Peeta always saw it differently, finding something worthwhile in the midst of her powerlessness.
She turned his hand over, tracing the lines of his palm and the little scars on his fingers. There were several bright splashes of color on the skin.
"Decorating cakes?" She asked knowingly.
"Almost. I've been mixing dyes for Faren's toasting cake frosting. I'm starting it this week, and my mother wants it to be the most ostentatious cake the District has ever seen. She actually cleared my schedule for it, so I probably won't be in the kitchen to trade at all this week. I'll be out front working by the window."
"And she's making you do it all? Can't she at least help?" Katniss wondered. Peeta shook his head.
"She's no good at it. Dad and Ander will be helping, though..
Katniss scowled. She wasn't going to see him next Sunday, and now she wouldn't see him all week.
"What is a merchant toasting like?" she asked, imagining the event: picturesque decorations, a nosegay carried by the bride, coveted refreshments, and lovely guests, dressed in their merchant finest. Thinking of all the girls attending in freshly pressed, pastel dresses, with flower water dabbed behind their ears, made Katniss feel uncomfortable.
With their mother's interest in a show of wealth, all the merchants would undoubtedly be invited. And with Peeta Mellark's charm, lots of women would probably be trying to catch his eye. Mrs. Mellark would be delighted.
It was a world she wasn't welcome in, and of course Peeta had not invited her. A, niggling voice deep inside wondered if he'd really wanted to, or if the wish had never crossed his mind.
Peeta's answer cut into her thoughts. "They're essentially the same as Seam ones."
"Except for the fancy cake," she bit out.
Katniss instantly felt contrite. Why shouldn't his brother have a toasting cake? Peeta hadn't chosen to be born to a merchant family, and if he had, would she blame him? It wasn't his fault things were skewed so unequally between their two classes, and she knew he tried to be mindful of the differences in their situation.
It was just hard not to think about the gaping differences that existed between the two ceremonies. Katniss always felt out of her element when it came to the places their lives intersected, but never seemed to parallel.
"I meant more along the lines of all the most important traditions still being the same: bread toasted and shared, crossing a threshold, and the the singing of the toasting song," he clarified. "Is something wrong, Katniss?
"No. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little out of sorts because I'll miss you next Sunday," she admitted. "And on top of that, I won't even be trading with you this week."
"Then we'll just have to make the most of this evening," he said, leaning closer. Katniss couldn't agree more.
It wasn't difficult to forget her worries when she was in Peeta's arms. She deepened the kiss, eager to pursue the euphoria that had just eluded her before. She rolled against him, and when he responded, she pressed her hand against the raised material of his slacks.
Peeta rained kisses down her neck, and a breathless sigh escaped her.
After a time, Peeta drew back. "Can I touch you?" he asked, placing his fingers lightly over the fabric of her pants.
She nodded encouragingly. "Yes, but…nothing beyond this, okay?" Then it was his turn to nod in agreement. He gently unfastened the closure on her worn slacks, and slipped his hand tentatively between the top of her undergarments and her skin. Her skin was soft and heated, and she watched his movements with apprehension and excitement. The pads of his fingers moved lower, past her curls, to the seam of her lower lips. There they met a slickness that invited him further, and his breath caught at the feeling of her damp flesh against his digits. Her mouth dropped open in a silent gasp, and Katniss closed her eyes to focus only on their contact.
"Oh Katniss," he breathed reverently, in wonder at the feel of her, pressing a kiss to her pulse point. As he moved his hand, exploring, she whined and grasped his shoulders tightly. Katniss panted into the space where his neck and shoulders met. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, not when every press of his fingers stole it away again.
Peeta had one arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her closer to him. She'd been undulating on top of him for a while, and her movements were becoming unfocused and losing rhythm. Peeta nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth, drawing her drifting eyes back to his.
Katniss could feel she was quickly approaching the precipice she sought. When their eyes met, and she saw appetent joy in all the blue, something within her released, and she was falling to pieces and soaring all at once. She writhed and Peeta cradled her against him, until she felt him fall as well.
When their breathing had evened, and their hearts beat a steady pace again, Katniss was content to just bask in the dissipating warmth. She imagined she must resemble Buttercup, when he spent lazy, languid hours laying in the sun, eyes drowsy with utter contentment.
Peeta idly trailed his fingertips over the wisps of hair beneath her braid. "If you're not busy, do you think you could meet me here next Sunday evening?" he asked sleepily. "I don't know if I can sneak away, but I'll sure try."
"Peeta, it's your brother's toasting," she admonished.
"I'll be there for it," he insisted. "And the cake-cutting too. Even the endless, rambling speeches. But I don't see why I should stay for the dancing, when the only person I want to partner with isn't there."
Katniss averted her eyes and smiled, feeling silly for her baseless worrying earlier. "I suppose I could."
"Great!" He dropped a kiss to her nose, and then they gently extricated themselves. "I ought to get back and work on the cake design a bit more," Peeta said regretfully. "I need all the time I can get if it's going to "be a statement" like she wants."
"Shouldn't it be more about what Lanni and Faren want?" Katniss asked.
Peeta chuckled. "You know, it never seems to be. Must be a merchant thing."
Katniss shook her head and righted her clothes, which had become quite skewed since entering the warehouse.
"Hopefully I'll see you Sunday," Peeta said. She nodded, and with a last, soft smile, ducked out the door and into the night.
He looked wonderful when he finally joined her at the warehouse. His clothes were neat as a pin, and he was wearing a smartly pressed white dress shirt. Such a garment seemed completely out of place in the coal district, certainly in a coal storage warehouse, abandoned or not.
Katniss rushed toward him immediately, eager for the relief of being able to touch him again, and too impatient to wait a moment longer. He stumbled when she flung her arms around him, balancing something in his hand, and she steadied them with a hand on the wall. Peeta hastily set whatever he'd been carrying down, and then began unbuttoning his shirt between frantic kisses.
"If I get coal dust on this shirt I'm a dead man," he explained, when he turned and hung it on the handle of the propped door, which was one of the few spots around them not coated in black, due to its frequent use.
He wore only a tank top beneath, and as soon as the white shirt was secure, Katniss was only too happy to let him pull her roughly back to him, holding her tightly enough that she had to bring her hands around and cling to his back for balance. It felt like there was no stopping, and they tripped their way over to the crate.
After they'd completed their ardent greeting, Peeta rose from the crate to fetch the object he'd brought. Katniss saw that she'd left a bold, black handprint on the back of his tank top. Her hand must have gotten coated in black dust when she'd braced it against the wall at the door. Though amusing, she resolved to tell Peeta about it before he left, as something like that could land him in trouble.
She was distracted from the thought when he brought back a small cardboard box, one of the ones they used for delicate purchases at the bakery. Katniss opened it to find a slice of toasting cake inside.
"I thought you should have some. You seemed interested in it last time we were here."
Katniss was delighted. She'd never had toasting cake before, and the gesture meant he'd been thinking about her earlier in the day.
She scrubbed the smudges of coal off her hand with a handkerchief. The first bite was heavenly. It was fluffy, light and sweet, with a delicate flavor.
"You've got a little bit on the corner of your mouth," Peeta told her, but when she failed to dab at the correct spot, he leaned over to kiss it away himself.
"Mmm," he hummed appreciatively, and Katniss blushed.
"I did a great job on that cake," he said smugly.
Katniss gave him a playful shove, and wiped some frosting on his cheek in retaliation.
"Hey, I didn't bring you this cake for you to waste it you know.".
"Oh, I don't intend to waste it," she answered slyly, before leaning in to spread little kisses over the smear of frosting. As usual, once she'd started kissing Peeta, there seemed to be no stopping, even after every trace of icing had been cleaned from his cheek. His hands lightly gripped her elbows, so he could return the favor.
The cake sat forgotten for some time.
Monday was bright with a cloudless sky. September was a few days away, and already, some leaves were beginning to change. Katniss reminded herself that it was Peeta's favorite season, and she'd have to make him some more paints for the occasion, in all manner of golden, fiery hues.
Their time together the night before had been wonderful, and had left her sighing in blissful relaxation even as he'd pulled his dress shirt back on, in a hurry to return home before his absence became unforgivably long.
As she approached the bakery, she was surprised to see they still hadn't cleaned up from the toasting. And it looked like it had been quite a party - things were littering the ground everywhere.
The closer she got, the odder it was. The lights were off in the front windows, and she could hear indistinct shouting upstairs. The objects on the ground didn't look like decorations. Slinking up to the side of the building, she peeked through the kitchen window.
Peeta wasn't there. Instead, it was Ander, and he seemed troubled. He was rolling out dough, but half-heartedly, his movements slow.
Katniss heard the latch of a window opening above, and a box of paints was suddenly flying out of it to shatter at her feet.
They were the paints she'd made Peeta.
The screaming was no longer indistinct, and it could only come from one person.
"Someone who consorts with Seam filth is no son of mine!" Mrs. Mellark yelled.
Katniss could just make out the pleading tones of Mr. Mellark's voice as he approached the window and pulled it shut, obviously trying to keep the matter private.
She looked back into the kitchen in horror, the situation dawning on her. The sound of the paints shattering must have caught Ander's attention, because he was looking back at her now, anger and disappointment on his face.
"Peeta's not here?" she mouthed, dreading the answer.
Ander shook his head slowly, and looked morosely back at his dough.
Her breath was fast and panicked. She didn't know what to do.
He'd been kicked out of his house, all because of her. She had to find Peeta.
Author's note: I can't thank you all enough for reading the story and being so patient with the updates. I'm going to have to guesstimate about a month's wait for each chapter, anything briefer just doesn't seem to happen. My wildly inaccurate crystal ball predicts about four more chapters and an epilogue.
I hope this didn't seem OOC. Katniss has denied herself life's pleasures for a very long time, and when she finally indulges in one, I don't see her regulating herself and weighing consequences terribly well right out of the gate. Looking at the beach scene in CF, I see someone for whom desire has powerful sway.
Hopefull the abandoned warehouse didn't seem too convenient for the fic. There is canonical mention of a new storage method implemented by the Capitol, which left several coal production buildings empty. The Hob sprang up in one of them.
Mrs. Everdeen used Chadwick's sign to confirm Leevy's pregnancy, a method that wasn't widely used, even before more scientific methods, because it's pretty…hands on. But since it only requires expertise and the powers of observation, I feel it would be the perfect, no-cost method for a Seam healer. It's visible as early as 6 to 8 weeks into the pregnancy, which means Leevy was already pregnant when she was looking for fertility herbs.
Lastly, if you're craving more not-reaped!Everlark fics, please read "Carrot Cake" by arollercoasterthatonlygoesup (on Ao3). It's gorgeous and completed, and I inhaled it at work the other day. Don't know how I missed it before now!
I am Ghtlovesthg on tumblr. :)