Katniss wakes up completely entangled in Peeta. So much so that she's pulled back against him when she tries to roll off onto her side. It's a natural thing for Peeta, who is currently uninhibited by sleep. And for some reason, she doesn't want to take this from him. So she tries to relax into him a little and turns back to the way she was before, facing his chest. He makes a small, content noise in his sleep. She doesn't dare move her feet from where they're wedged between his shins. He's sort of red, particularly on his cheeks. Probably a result of spending so much time in the sun yesterday.
She's not ready to wake him up yet. He stayed up late enough with her last night. She wanted to see if Scarlett would respond and he wanted to make sure Katniss was okay. He must have offered to talk about it about five times last night. She even almost wanted to tell him by about the eighth time. There's so much, though, that she's not entirely sure she's ready for him to know. Things she's not ready to talk about quite yet. She's not sure how she could force the words out to explain just what happened to her father. Or to her mother after the explosion.
As most trains of thoughts do, this one leads her to Prim. She decided last night that even if Scarlett agrees to send a letter, she probably won't want to do it particularly often. Katniss wouldn't ask her to. She's well aware, now, of how much she's asking of Scarlett. She even feels bad about it, expecting her to lie to her brother in law. Maybe even to her husband.
So this first letter, this only letter, will have to be long. She's going to have to tell Prim about everything she can possibly fit onto the page. She'll have to tell her about Peeta, most importantly. If Prim is thinking anything similar to what Katniss had been thinking, she'll be relieved to know how much better Peeta is than he could be. She also decides that she needs to tell Prim about the connection between the Mellark family and the bakers in Twelve. Maybe that will set her mind at ease, at least a little.
Assuming her sister even reads the letter.
After a while, Peeta stirs in his sleep. She's looking up at him, marveling at how very long his eyelashes are in the right light, when his eyes slide open. She tries to look away, a little ashamed of herself for spying, but with them being so close, there's nowhere to really look. He doesn't seem to mind, though. In fact, he smiles at her.
"Hey there," Peeta says, his voice thick with sleep. "Have you been up long?"
She starts to shake her head but settles on shrugging. "Didn't want to wake you up again."
"Well, that's silly," Peeta says as she gets to work stretching out. "It's not your fault you're awake."
"Can I check your phone?" Katniss asks, climbing out of the bag and stretching her back out. "I want to see if she – if they wrote back. If that's okay."
"Yeah, yeah, of course," Peeta says, running his hand through his hair. "We should probably go ahead and plan on getting you your own one of these days. Give you a little more freedom."
A phone? For her? She wonders if she should tell him that she would have no use for it. He seems pretty happy with himself for thinking of it, though, so she manages a smile. "That's very generous of you."
Scarlett's response came only a few minutes ago. She's sort of relieved. At least she'll have an answer.
Scarlett:
Hey, Katniss. Can I ask why we're not telling Peeta?
It takes a moment for Katniss to come up with the right answer. Shouldn't Scarlett understand? Has she really gotten so used to being with Rye that she doesn't understand?
Don't want to bother him.Scarlett:
I can guarantee you it wouldn't be a bother. He would trip over himself to help with anything you asked him for.
She looks up at him. He's sitting patiently enough at the other side of the tent, but he's definitely watching her. She drops her eyes back down to the phone quickly.
Please help me. I just want my sister to know I'm okay.
Scarlett:
I'll help. And even though I'm honored to be the one you ask, I really want you to consider talking to Peeta about this.Scarlett:
Remember what we talked about. He's a good guy. I promise.She sort of sighs.
Thank you. I'm giving the phone back now.
"Do you want to get going?" Peeta asks, and she nods. She's slightly more relieved than she should be when he slides the phone into the pocket of his sweatpants without reading over her conversation. It's quiet while they gather their things but once they start heading to the restrooms Peeta apparently can't take it anymore. He bumps his shoulder against hers, maybe to get her attention. "You know, the offer to talk about it still stands. You seemed pretty shaken last night."
"It was just a dream," Katniss says quickly and defensively. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Peeta says. "I get them too, it's just that it might help, talking about it."
She shakes her head. It's hard, convincing herself that he's genuinely concerned and not just prying, but she tries.
Thankfully, he accepts the answer. They part ways once they reach the little building, and she stares at her reflection for a moment after she's finished brushing her teeth. Here in this brightly lit bathroom, in a shirt that used to belong to her husband, it's getting increasingly hard to remember who she is and who she is not.
She wears the shorts again, since they've had time to dry and she's hoping against hope that he'll let her back in the water. The camisole fit well enough under the tank top yesterday, so she pairs it with another dark tank top today. She might possibly be stalling when she puts her hair into a slightly neater braid, but she thinks it's justified.
He's waiting for her when she comes out, and the glasses are gone again.
"What do you want to do today?" he asks.
She shrugs. "Whatever you want. I'm not picky."
"Yeah, but you've got to have a preference," Peeta says. "I don't, personally. I'm just happy to be out here."
She doesn't want to be too hopeful, but she can't help herself. "Could we go to the lake again?"
"Of course," Peeta says, grinning. "I sort of figured you'd say that. Didn't want jeans weighing me down again, I mean," he says, motioning down towards his leg.
He's wearing shorts and she tries not to stare, but she can see all of the fake leg now. It's pretty reflective in the sun. She sort of wonders if she could go blind looking at it. When she glances back up at him, he offers her a small smile. She's glad he's not upset with her.
"You're ready to get back in the water already?" she asks.
"Were you not planning on dragging me back into the water?" Peeta asks, grinning. "I mean, I'd be good on the shore."
"No, it's not that," she assures him. "I'm sort of impressed."
"Impressed?" Peeta asks, clearly proud of himself. She wants to tease him. To make some kind of a comment about him being a first timer. She doesn't go through with it, though. She's not exactly sure how he would take it.
"We should get going," Katniss suggests. "We're burning daylight."
He smiles. "Couldn't agree more. Lead the way."
Peeta brings their breakfast to the lake. They sit on the shore together, side by side and barefoot, and eat small boxes of cereal. It's brightly colored and slightly too sweet, but she doesn't tell him that.
"What did you say you used to do when you came here with your father? It wasn't swimming, obviously."
He laughs. "Yeah, no swimming for the Mellarks. We hiked a lot. I think we went fishing a couple of times."
"Fishing? You can fish here?" she asks eagerly.
"Yeah. There's a dock around here somewhere. Did you fish? In Twelve?"
She nods. It's surprising, almost, how interested he is. "Sometimes. With these poles my father made."
"We're going to have to get some poles and come back."
She feels almost giddy. They're coming back. "I'd like that a lot."
"I would, too," Peeta agrees. "I have a friend from Four. I think you'd like him. He's a real outdoorsman."
She can't help but to think of Gale, who only ever really seemed alive in the woods. Maybe, in her letter, she can convince Prim to tell him she's fine. He had been particularly concerned.
She leans back, propping herself up on her elbows to soak in as much sun as possible.
"Oh! That reminds me," Peeta says, digging around in the bag and holding a white bottle up triumphantly. "I'll do your back if you'll do mine."
It's quiet while she tries to figure out what's in the bottle. He laughs uncomfortably.
"That's a lie. I'll do your back either way."
She sort of smiles. "No. I can do your back."
He looks a little more relieved than she thinks he probably should. She wonders why he thinks she's so fragile. Maybe he's right. It's not like she hasn't given him plenty of reasons to think that she'll start crying out of the blue. "So, ah, what is this?" Katniss asks, holding her hand out for him to fill.
"Sunblock. I completely forgot about it yesterday. Got a little burned."
She can see that.
He waits until she's behind him to – rather sheepishly – tug his shirt over his head. She's not as uncomfortable as she usually would be as her fingertips as she applies the stuff. He needs it, she justifies. Her fingertips dance over the clear line of where his shirt stopped protecting him. He's not terribly burned, but his arms are a good shade or two different from the paleness across his back.
"I didn't know there was anything that could stop you from getting burned," she muses.
"What do you mean?" Peeta asks. "What did you do about it in Twelve?"
"My mother had a plant they used. Afterwards, I mean. They're both so pale. I guess it made it hurt less when they burned."
He chuckles. "Yeah, we have something like that here. Of course, I forgot to bring it, because that's how good at packing I am."
She realizes the way her hands are lingering on his warm skin and yanks them away. "Um, I think that's your whole back."
"Feels like it. Thank you so much, Katniss. Seriously, you're a lifesaver."
She smiles weakly, suddenly uncomfortable. "No, it's fine."
"Should I go ahead and get yours now?" he asks. "I mean, I think we're both good to do our fronts."
"That would be good. Thank you."
He turns to face her as he heads to stand behind her, and she tries not to look at his chest, but she can't help but to. He's about as stocky as he looks with a shirt on, but without it his muscles are clearly defined.
He brushes her hair over to rest on one shoulder, and she shudders at the gentle touch.
"Sorry!" he says, and she believes him. "I just didn't want to get it in your hair."
"It's okay," she says.
He's relieved enough for a small sigh to escape. She listens as he gets some sunblock for his own hand and she tries to prepare herself, but she's still a little bit startled by the coldness of it. She's the one to apologize this time.
"For what?" Peeta asks. He's finished with her back much more quickly than she finished his. "It's gotta dry, just for a little while, or else it'll wash off. Though you can barely tell you were outside at all yesterday."
"I think my skin is used to it," she says. "I never burn. I got it from my father."
He smiles. "Well, better safe than sorry, right?"
She watches while he spreads the sunblock up and down his arm and leg. "Yeah, probably. How long is a little while?" she asks, itching to get in the water.
"You're probably good to go, considering how little you need it," he says.
She takes a step towards the water. "Do you want me to wait for you?"
He laughs. "No. No, of course not."
Just like yesterday, she's the first one in the water. It's not that she didn't enjoy Peeta how to swim yesterday, but it's nice to be free in the water. Today, she's able to go further into the water, to dive in and out of the water without having to worry about how Peeta is faring in the water.
She wonders what her father would think. He would be happy, she hopes, that she found another lake. Maybe a little bit sad that it's not his lake. That's okay. Katniss is a little bit sad about that, too. But in a pinch, this is a more than adequate substitute. So she lingers not on the fact that her father has never been in this water but instead on the way it feels between her toes. She spends a lot of time out there, swimming out until Peeta is really just a spot out on the shore. Figuring that he can probably see her about as well as she can see him, she starts to do flips. That used to be her favorite part about swimming. Doing flips and gathering roots with her father. She wonders if they have katniss roots here. Probably not, considering the fact that Peeta had to ask what her name meant.
The day is nearly perfect. She thinks it's her favorite since she got here. Only, she can't quite figure out why it is that Peeta doesn't seem to want to come out with her. He has seemed interested enough in the morning. At least, she had thought he has wanted to go. Maybe he thought he couldn't get out of it and now that there's a way he can, he's going to take that opportunity. She just can't figure out why it is he wouldn't tell her that he didn't like swimming. Does he not think she would understand? She's not sure if she would, if she's being honest. Not with the way he acted last night. If she had known he hadn't enjoyed it, then she wouldn't have asked to come back out today.
She's sure that his sunblock is dry by now. There's no way it takes that long to dry, is there? No, as she gets closer to him, it becomes clearer that his hesitation has less to do with the water and more with the phone he holds in his lap. He's holding it about as far away as he can. Clearly, something he read on it has upset him. She feels a little bit sick when she realizes what he must have read.
"Hey," Peeta says with a forced smile. It takes him a minute to pull his eyes away from the screen. "Are you tired already? Should I have made you wait thirty minutes before getting in the water?"
"What?" she asks, confused.
"Oh, you know. They say, after eating, you're supposed to wait . . ." he trails off. This is the first time she's seen him this obviously faking it. At least, she thinks, she can rest assured that his usual pleasantries are genuine now. That's indisputable now that she has this to compare it to."You're supposed to wait half an hour. So you don't cramp, I guess. I'm not sure. Nobody really believes it, but it's been around forever."
It's quiet for a long moment. She keeps looking between Peeta and the phone, waiting for him to say something, but it's clear that he won't be one to bring it up. She's incredibly uncomfortable, just waiting for him to bring it up. She almost wonders how hard it would be for her to get away. To pretend like she doesn't realize what's wrong and get back in the lake. She knows better, though. Knows that this isn't something she can run away from. So she shifts uncomfortably, squeezes the water out of her braid, and sighs.
"You saw it," she decides. She knew this would happen. Peeta looks up at her, startled. As if he forgot she was there.
"Katniss . . ." he says with a sigh. "You should probably go ahead and have a seat."
Why this upsets her as much as it does, she's not sure, but she does as he asks and crosses her legs, making sure to sit down a safe couple of feet away from him. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"
