Peeta ushers me back onto the train, and stomps loudly in front of me. I try not to be hurt when he walks past my bedroom and into his, but I am. A week ago, I would have retreated into my room seething, but I refuse to go to the Capitol with this hanging over our heads. I'm a tribute in the Hunger Games, goddammit, I'm sick of living with regrets.
"Hey!" I call out, sharper and louder than I intended. He turns roughly and looks at me apprehensively. I close the gap between us in two long strides. "You do not get to walk away from me, okay? You do not get to be mad at me about this! You do not get to be upset because I told you that I don't want to live without you!"
"Katniss-" he grabs my arm and pulls me towards him.
"No!" I cut him off, grabbing his forearm. "Do you'll think that I'd be okay? Going back to Twelve alone? Do you?"
"Katniss, you don't-"
"NO! Okay, do you realize how selfish it is, that you want to die for me? Have you even thought about how spectacularly unfair that is?"
"That I'm dying for you?" His voice is indignant.
"YES! Peeta, if you die, you'll go to heaven, or somewhere else, but it won't be here. You're plan is for me to win, right? So you get to leave, but what about me? What about me when you go off to the light, or whatever? WHAT ABOUT ME?" I'm crying now.
"Katniss,"
"No," my voice is weak now, and I've dropped to a whisper. "I'd never be able to forgive you."
"For dying?" His eyes are filling up with tears.
"For making me love you! And then leaving me!"
"Oh, Katniss," he says pulling me into him. I sob freely into his shirt.
"And I'd never forgive myself for letting you go. So stop talking about how I could win this. Stop right now."
"Okay." And then he's kissing me. He's kissing me like we're about to go into the arena, like he's never kissed me before and will never kiss me again. It's a kiss that steals my breath and makes my knees quake, and I have to pull away or it will overtake me.
"I...can't..."
He pulls back with an expression of alarm.
"I can't do this Peeta? How am I supposed to walk into that arena with you, and Gale, and Madge, the people I care about most, knowing that only one of us can come out? Maybe none of us? How can I kill twenty other kids who are being punished by the Capitol? I can't..."
Peeta smiles at me sadly, and one tear slides down his cheek. "You have to."
"I know."
He kisses my forehead, and pulls me after him into his bed. We don't even change into pajamas, just curl up next to each other and fall asleep.
He wakes me up when I start screaming, and rubs my shoulders gently. I'm glad he doesn't have nightmares, but I feel bad that I'm constantly waking him up while screaming for my father to run. He doesn't complain, though, and doesn't move. I'm grateful. He'll never know how grateful I am for him.
Effie wakes us up early, muttering under her breath about our "improper sleeping arrangements" but I ignore her. "It's a big, big day! We are arriving in the Capitol in fifteen minutes!"
Peeta starts at this. He shoots up in bed, wipes the sleep out of his eyes, and pulls me out from under the covers with him. "Hurry and get dressed," he says quickly. "I'll meet you in the dining car in a few minutes."
I dress quickly, and arrive at the dining car less than two minutes after Peeta hastens to his own room. Gale is there eating, and I'm grateful he's not hungover again. I sit down across from him and give him a small smile. I feel bad for not telling him about Madge, and my guilt increases a tenfold when the doors whoosh open and Madge herself walks in and sits beside Gale. "Morning," she says in a small voice.
"Good morning," Gale says weakly.
"Can we talk later, Gale?" Madge asks, eyes not leaving the table in front of her, not daring to look Gale in the face.
"Of course." His voice breaks.
The awkward silence is broken when the doors swish open again, and Peeta walks in, followed closely by Haymitch and Effie.
"We have a big day today!" Effie says excitedly, totting over to the table and sitting down with a grand sweep of her hands.
"Yeah, yeah," Haymitch says roughly. "We'll be in the Capitol in a couple minutes, so listen up. From the moment you step out of this train until the moment you set foot into that arena, your one and only goal will be getting sponsors. And the first step is the Tribute Parade. So do whatever your stylists tell you, smile pretty, and be better than everyone else."
"Guys!" Peeta says quickly. "We're here!" He motions me towards him, and I quickly slide under his arm, which is around my shoulders protectively. Suddenly, we swoosh into the train station, where thousands of people are cheering and waving, screaming at us.
Peeta smiles easily at them and gives them a small wave. They go insane, trying to launch themselves at the moving train to get a better view of us.
"Smile," Peeta tells me. "They'll love it."
I glance back at Haymitch, who is considering me. His eyes tell me all I need to know, that he thinks I'm a weak crybaby who isn't deserving of her father's name and will throw everything away in the arena because she's not strong enough to kill an innocent kid. His eyes narrow at me, and his head tilts to the side. There's a smirk on his face. He thinks I'm going down without a fight.
I tilt my chin up, and give the crowd a smile I reserve for Prim, and use to surprise Peeta. A smile with teeth and dimples and smiling eyes. I lift my arm and wave, resting my grinning head against Peeta's shoulder and pulling him closer to me. I blow kisses to the Capitol, kisses that say Katniss Everdeen fights to the death.
"You certainly wooed the spectators at the train station," my stylist says as he walks in. "You're all anyone is talking about." His words sound good, but his voice is sad. "I'm Cinna." I take his hand.
"I'm sorry that this happened to you," he says after sizing me up.
"Most people congratulate me," I say flatly.
"I don't believe in that. Especially not this year."
My breath catches. He leans in close to me, and says, "I knew your father."
I pull away from him, surprised and scared. "Not all of us are from the Capitol, you know. He was always telling me about his brave little girl, his brave little Katniss."
"I don't feel very brave," I say. "I feel like crying all the time."
"Hey," Cinna says softly. "Everyone knows the fierce warriors cry after battle. Only truly brave people allow themselves to grieve over what is lost."
"Where'd you hear that?" I ask, dead certain he made it up.
"That's what your father used to tell me."
A tear slips down my cheek.
"You're from Twelve?"
Cinna nods. "I cry all the time too."
"Okay."
"Just remember, these aren't real flames, okay?" Cinna says, fixing my hair. Cinna told me they planned on braiding it elaborately like Madge's hair, but he thought that a warrior wore her hair down, so my hair is in thick waves cascading down my back, almost as if they are on fire themselves. Pierre, Madge's stylist, comes over and asks Cinna if we're ready. Cinna nods and hands me up into the carriage. "Don't be afraid," he says as a goodbye.
"They aren't real flames!" I call back. He smiles.
The carriages move slowly at first, and we are still in a tunnel, so the Capitol can't see us yet. We stop and wait for a signal to continue. Gale and Madge stand on the right side of the platform, and Peeta and I stand on the left. I take Peeta's hand. "I'm scared," I whisper into his ear. "All of this scares me."
He squeezes my hand. "I've been scared since Snow read your name at the Reaping. I'm scared all the time."
"Lie to me. Tell me we'll both be fine. That we'll grow old and have eight grandchildren."
"You don't want kids," Peeta says.
"No, but you do. So lie to me. Tell me that this is all just a bad dream."
"We'll both be fine. We'll grow old in Twelve and have eight grandchildren. They all have your hair-"
"-and your eyes," I interject.
"And your eyes," Peeta's voice breaks, and his eyes are full of tears. The carriages pull forward. He continues anyway. "Prim will get married to Rory, and she'll bring us goat cheese everyday. They'll have two blonde babies. You'll hunt enough for us to live off of, and sell the rest. We'll be rich. Madge and Gale will live next door, but they won't have kids, they'll just have sex all the time. Like teenagers, even when they're eighty. They're happy. We're happy. You laugh all the time. You have wrinkles from laughing, and your frown lines have gone away. I make you cheese buns everyday. You don't have nightmares anymore."
I'm laughing and crying and falling into a million pieces. "Promise?" I ask him. We have just cleared the tunnel, and suddenly I'm met with the cheers of millions of people, all screaming my name. I wave, sure that my face betrays all the heartbreak inside of me. I smile, but there are tears streaming down my face. I can't cry right now, not with all these people watching. Peeta lets go of my hand, and wraps his arm around my waist. I lean against him appreciatively. We wave together. We finally slow to a stop in front of the President, still aflame.
The President begins a speech about how he "honors our duty and sacrifice" but I'm not thinking about that.
I'm thinking about the hand that smoothed my hair, and whirled me around to face him so he could wipe my tears.
I'm thinking about the arm that took my hand and pulled me towards him, into him.
I'm thinking about the whisper in my ear, saying, "I promise. I promise you all of it."
I'm thinking about the boy with the bread.
I'm mentally preparing myself for Haymitch's wrath. "I gave you one job, Sweetheart, and you go and cry all over your pretty dress."
Instead, he smiles widely at all four of us, and says, "And here I thought you couldn't pull it off." I turn to Madge and Gale, thinking they pulled something impressive out of their asses to impress all the Capitol people, but Gale's eyes are red and Madge looks disgruntled and her face is white.
"Let's take this upstairs," Cinna suggests, eying a boy from two that is leering at us.
Five minutes later, we are walking into the penthouse of the Training Center.
"Why don't you four change into something more comfortable," Haymitch suggests. "And then meet us down here in a few minutes?"
"Oh, thank God," I say. "Sorry, no offense, Cinna," I say quickly. He chuckles, and I hurry off to my room. I barely have the door closed before Peeta is walking in with a t-shirt and soft cotton pants in his hand.
"Peeta!" I giggle. "I'm changing!" I protest, even though I'm still fully clothed and need help with my zipper.
"Let me help you," Peeta says huskily, biting his bottom lip and waggling his eyebrows. I giggle again and turn, moving my hair so he can unzip my dress. "I hate that you make me giggle," I pout.
"You're cute when you giggle," I can hear the smirk in his voice.
"You think you're-" I trail off because he's finished unzipping my dress, and his warm mouth has brushed the base of my spine. He trails warm kisses up my back, sprinkling them onto my shoulders, suckling on my neck.
"Peeta," I gasp. He slowly slides my dress off of my shoulders, and it drops to the ground. I shudder when his warm hands meet the cool flesh of my stomach. He rubs them slowly up to my ribs, then back down, creating a path over my hips.
I turn and relieve him of his shirt, unbuttoning the thick black fabric and throwing it unceremoniously on the floor. I run my hands down his stomach until they meet his belt buckle. I slowly work the leather until the belt is unfastened, and I slowly slide the cracked belt out of his pant loops, all Peeta takes my mouth into his. I slip two fingers into the waist of his pants and pull him back with me, until we are standing in front of the bed. I push him down onto it, and straddle his hips. I tangle my fingers into his hair, pulling him towards me, inhaling him until there is nothing left between us, not even oxygen. His hands are all over my body, but never wandering past my ribs or over my underwear.
"Katniss," he pants, pulling away from me. "Katniss. We have to stop."
"Why?"
"We have to talk to Haymitch." I tilt my head and suck on his ear.
"Screw Haymitch. He'll be there in the morning."
"It's rude."
"I don't want to talk to Haymitch," I whine. "I want you."
Peeta swallows slowly.
"I promise you can have me," he says shyly. "Anytime you want. After we talk to Haymitch."
"Fine," I growl.
"I'm so turned on right now," Peeta says as he watches me get dressed.
"Good," I say sassily. "I hope you're miserable the entire time we're talking to Haymitch, thinking about how much you want me, swelling with desire."
"You're going to kill me, Kat."
"Kat?" I ask.
"Why not? You call me Peet."
"Gale calls you Peet. I call you Peeta," I tease.
"Call me whatever you want. I'm calling you Kat now."
"Just not "Sweetheart", 'kay?"
He laughs even though he knows I'm not joking.
Later, after we talk about how great the Parade was, how great we were, how the sponsors are rolling in because of the affection we showed each other during Snow's speech, we finally get to come back to my room. Our room.
"Finally," I grumble, flopping down on the bed.
Peeta crawls in after me, already taking his shirt off. "Where were we?" he asks.
"Well we were about to have sex," I tease, pulling the covers back and climbing up towards the pillows. "But now, I'm going to sleep."
"Not if I have anything to do about it," Peeta says mischievously. I giggle and pull him towards me, letting him envelop me, letting the ecstasy crowd out the fear, letting the love and affection I have for him drown out everything else.
Later, he's asleep, I tell him that I know he can't keep his promise. But that I wish he could. That I love him. And that I'm going to die loving him.
It's only after, when I roll over onto my stomach and start to breathe heavily, that I hear him say, "Not if I can help it."
I guess we're both bad at telling when the other one's asleep.
