I sit still on the couch, motionless, until I hear Peeta padding down the hallway. I quickly shut the folder and shove it under some other papers on the coffee table. I don't want to deal with this right now. I'll have to figure something out eventually, but it doesn't have to be now. And Peeta definitely doesn't need to know about it, at least not yet. Not when things are actually starting to go somewhere with us.
He stretches out on the couch and puts his head in my lap. My fingers automatically weave their way into his thick, curly hair.
"Mmm," a thick groan rumbles out of his throat as I work through his tangled tresses. "That feels good." His eyes flutter shut as I continue my ministrations, but it's really just a mindless action to keep my hands busy as my mind reels.
I squash my thoughts as Peeta flips onto his side and presses his face into my stomach. His arms snake around my waist and his nose pushes up my tank top so he can kiss my lower belly.
"Watch the stubble, Mellark!"
"What, you don't like it?" he asks, a faux-innocent tone in his voice, before he starts nuzzling his face into the soft, sensitive skin of my stomach. I squirm and try to push him away, but he sits up and pulls me onto his lap, continuing his nuzzling - this time in the crook of my neck.
I sigh into his sweet-smelling hair as my arms act of their own accord and wrap themselves around his neck. His head stills on my shoulder as he looks up at me. My eyes meet his and I feel the warmth starting in my chest, spreading into my belly and through my limbs. I lean forward and press my lips to his. This kiss is different than the ones that we've shared up until now. There's no fiery heat to it, no impatience. It's just a comfortable peck; two people relaxing into each other. It's with this kiss that I know I don't stand a chance.
Peeta lets out a contented sigh before breaking the kiss. He shifts me off of his lap and heads toward the kitchen.
I follow, perching myself on the counter as Peeta rifles through my fridge.
"How does French toast sound, babe?" he asks me.
I quirk my eyebrow at the endearment, feigning annoyance, but deep down I love it. If any other man had called me "babe" I would have firmly put them in their place, but with Peeta it seems normal, somehow.
"French toast sounds delicious, moonbeam honeychild sunshine-of-my-love," I say to him, wiggling my eyebrows.
"Alright, smartass," he says, pulling out the carton of eggs and bumping my leg with his hip as he passes me.
I hop down to find space on the counter closer to where he's working.
"I thought you like the ridiculous pet names, babe." I pinch his butt as I walk past him.
"Oh, stop. I didn't ask you to marry me. I simply used a term of endearment, babe."
"A chauvinistic term of endearment. I'm not a pig in the city."
Peeta turns to me with a huff. "Are you kidding me?"
I smirk at him. "I don't kid."
Something about the way that he moves around the kitchen - such confidence and ease - leaves me sitting on the counter uncomfortably, heat pooling between my legs. It gets to be too much, so I jump down and walk behind him, pressing myself flush against his back and winding my arms around his tapered waist.
Peeta stills, dropping his whisk. "Oh, hello there."
I press my lips to his back and murmur, "Hello."
In one fluid movement, Peeta moves the makings of the French toast to the side and flips me around, lifting me by my thighs and sitting me, once again, on the counter. His face is so close that our noses are almost touching, but he doesn't make any further movement. I'm the first to break, tilting my head up slightly so that my lips are pressed to his.
I initiate the kiss, but he deepens it. His lips part against mine and I open up to him. As soon as he is granted access he wastes no time employing his tongue. We are lost in a flurry of teeth and tongues.
I break the kiss, wanting to taste more than just his mouth. I want to taste him everywhere, all of him. I move to his jawline, nipping and kissing down to his neck. I drag the flat of my tongue along the cord of his neck, ending below his ear. Peeta gasps, using the counter to hold himself up. Sensing my opportunity, I jump down from the counter. I turn Peeta so that his ass is pressed to the edge of the counter that he is still using to hold himself up.
My hands find the hem of his shirt and I push it up. Slowly, almost as if he is in a daze, Peeta pulls the shirt over his head, revealing an expanse of lean muscle covering his chest and stomach. Blonde curls pepper the V of his chest and his stomach is smooth aside from the darker blonde curls trailing from his belly button and disappearing into the top of his boxers.
Peeta unexpectedly spending the night last night leaves him wearing only his boxers and I find myself smiling inwardly at my good fortune. The thin fabric shows everything, and I can see how I'm affecting him right now. I glance down at the swell of his semi-hard cock underneath the patterned fabric, and the sight of him causes me to ache in a way that I haven't felt in a long, long time.
I push that to the side, though. I want to focus only on Peeta, the way that he focused only on me just last week. I run my nails down his chest lightly, continuing my ministrations on his neck. I feel his breathing quicken, his chest rising and falling underneath my hands.
I want to get my point across, but I'm not the most experienced when it comes to situations like this. I don't know how to seduce a man, let alone a man like Peeta, so I set all formalities aside and drop to my knees, making my intentions clear.
Peeta grabs my wrists as I reach for the waistband of his underwear.
"Uh, Katniss, what are you doing?" he sputters.
"What do you think I'm doing? I'm on my knees in front of you; I'm not praying," I answer, a little wounded.
"This isn't just going to be another fuck. I want it to be more than that with you, I told you already," he says. I'm still on my knees and my cheeks are starting to burn.
He sees my blush and reaches down to lift me off the tile floor. I'm embarrassed and he knows it. I'm left completely speechless, so I do the only thing I know how to do. I run.
I stalk out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, shutting the door swiftly and firmly behind me. I sit in the middle of my bed and concentrate on keeping the hot, stinging tears behind my eyelids and not on my cheeks. After a few minutes that seem like hours, I hear a soft tap on the door.
"Can I come in?" Peeta calls out softly.
I don't answer, so after a few seconds I see the doorknob twist and Peeta slowly opens the door. I keep my head low; I can't even imagine making eye contact with him right now. I feel like an absolute fool. A rejected fool. This is why I don't fall in love, because it hurts too damn much.
"Hey," Peeta says, perching himself on the edge of my bed. "What's going on?" I just shrug my shoulders, shifting further from him.
He follows me across the bed and catches my chin in his hand. I look at anything but his eyes.
"Katniss, please look at me. Please?" I hear the distress in his voice so I reluctantly lock my gray eyes onto his blue ones. I see the pain in them, pain at the idea of hurting me. I relax a little in his grip. All I needed was to look into his eyes.
"What are you feeling?" he asks.
"I feel really rejected, Peeta. I'm remembering why I don't let myself get close to people," I answer him.
Peeta lets go of my face, instead lying down on the bed and pulling me with him. I settle my head in the crook of his arm, my cheek resting on his chest.
"Katniss, I want you so badly. I've wanted you since you walked into Sage. I wanted to take you into my office and fuck you until you couldn't stand. But then, you sat down and started talking and I was absolutely captivated. I realized that I could listen to you talk forever and never get tired of the sound of your voice. I have never, ever felt that way about anyone before. I don't know how to do meaningful, but I want to figure it out with you. Please, give me some time, give us some time."
I can't help but melt a little at his words. I've never had a truly meaningful relationship either, but something about his tone makes me feel like it's a possibility with him.
"Okay."
His grin is wide and all-consuming. He catches my chin again and lifts my face, leaving a lingering kiss on my lips.
"I have to get dressed. I'm supposed to meet Gale for lunch. Come with me, I want you to meet him."
"Sure, but I'm going to go home first to shower and change. God, I can't believe I'm doing a walk of shame." He winks at me while pulling on last night's jeans.
"Oh shut up, like anyone's going to know. Meet us at Johnny Brenda's at one," I tell him.
He shrugs on his shirt and leans over the bed to give me a quick kiss before sauntering out of the bedroom.
"Bye, babe!" he calls from the front door.
As I rush around getting ready for lunch, the corner of my assignment folder sticking out from all of the clutter on the coffee table catches my eye. I grab the folder and shove it back into my bag. I'm not ready yet.
'Running a little late, I'll be there in 20.'
I slip my phone back into my pocket after reading Peeta's text message.
"He'll be here in 20 minutes, he got held up," I tell Gale.
"Well don't you think that's a little rude? I don't know why you even invited him, Katniss," Gale huffs.
"What the hell is your problem? You have been such an asshole about this whole situation." I narrow my eyes at my best friend.
"I'm just trying to protect you, you know. You could be a little bit more grateful."
"Grateful? You want me to be grateful that you're acting like a jealous, spoiled brat? If you're going to act like a douche, you can just go, Gale, because you are not going to fucking ruin this for me. Do you understand?" If looks could kill, this guy would be dead.
"Fine, I'll be nice. Or try at least. Look, I'm just on edge because Madge broke up with me last week," Gale sighs, running his fingers through his hair.
"God, Gale. Why didn't you tell me? I'm really sorry. Are you ok?" I ask him.
"It's alright. I've been expecting it really. I wasn't ready to commit to her," he says.
I reach over the table to hold Gale's hand. At that exact moment, Peeta rushes over to the table and I jump up, leaving Gale's hand to close around empty space. I don't miss the glare he shoots in Peeta's direction.
"I'm really sorry, guys. I got stuck in traffic. You must be Gale, I'm Peeta," he says, offering Gale his hand. Gale ignores it and remains in his seat.
"Well, ok then. I'll just sit here, I guess," Peeta looks a little wounded as he drops down into the seat next to me. I'm shooting daggers at Gale with my eyes.
"So, Katniss tells me that you guys grew up together. You have got to tell me some embarrassing stories, man," Peeta laughs, trying hard to break the ice.
"Oh, I'll tell you some stories. Like how I was her first kiss. And her prom date. I could tell you some other things too, Peeta," Gale says coolly, quirking one eyebrow up, his eyes boring into mine the entire time he speaks.
"That's enough, Gale!" I throw my napkin onto the table. "Let's go, Peeta."
"He's not right for you, Katniss." Gale slams his fist onto the table, causing the glasses to rattle.
"How do you know who's right for me, Gale Hawthorne? Where do you get your balls?" I hiss.
"Because I'm right the one that's right for you, Katniss. It's always been you and me; we are supposed to be together. Why do you think I'm not upset about Madge dumping me? Because I finally saw the opportunity to take the chance I should have taken years ago."
Peeta sits, eyes wide, looking back and forth between the two of us.
"There are so many things wrong with what you just said, Gale. Fuck you. How dare you?" I spit at him.
"Katniss, look. You and I both know that it's supposed to be us. You know our fathers would have wanted it," Gale says. Years of close friendship has left him knowing exactly what to say to push my buttons.
My stomach drops at the mention of my father. Gale knows exactly what he's doing; he knows just how to get to me. I don't appreciate it one bit. Anger clouds my vision as I walk out of the restaurant without another word to Gale. I just need to get away.
I've been walking down the street for at least five minutes when I hear the pounding footsteps behind me. Peeta grabs my arm, out of breath.
"Katniss, are you alright?" He asks.
"Peeta, I'm really sorry about him. I don't know where the hell this is coming from. He's not normally like this."
"Don't worry about it, I understand. Let's go to my place, its closer," Peeta says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me tight to his side. I visibly relax as I mold my body to his. I'm still furious and hurt, but it's nice to have someone to lean on for once. Usually, it's everyone else leaning on me.
"What about your car?" I ask him.
"Don't worry about it, I'll get it later." He responds.
We walk in silence for a few minutes, holding onto each other.
"Wait a second, Peeta. You didn't follow me right away. What did you say to him?,"
"Don't worry, I've got your back." He winks and drops a kiss onto my forehead.
An hour later, I can't seem to shake Gale's words. In fact, I'm getting more and more worked up as time passes. Peeta has been so patient, just sitting with me on the couch, not pushing me to talk. I know that if I do talk to him, I'm going to lose it. But, despite this fact, I have an overwhelming urge to tell Peeta everything.
"Peeta, remember when we were at the Waterworks and I told you a little bit about my family?" I ask him. He nods.
"Well I kind of skimmed over the details. What Gale said today, about my father, it really hurt me. It hurt because our families were always close. Our parents were best friends and we grew up together. Our dads worked together and my mom was the midwife when his little sister was born. And it always was supposed to be me and Gale." Peeta winces at the last sentence, but I continue. "They used to joke all the time about how Gale and I would grow up and get married and then we really would be one big happy family.
But, then our dads were killed. When I said that my mom checked out – that was an understatement. It was like she was in a coma but she was still conscious. She wouldn't speak or eat; all she would do was sit in her rocking chair by the front window, like she was waiting for Dad to come home. But he never did. The last thing that I wanted was for Prim and I to be taken away, so I tried to do whatever I could to keep us afloat. But it was really hard, I was floundering. Then Gale stepped in. He taught me how to hunt and he took care of us. So for him to try and use that to manipulate me, it cuts really deep."
I don't realize it while I'm talking, but the tears are streaming down my face now. Peeta just puts his arms around me and I push my face into his chest and sob, drenching his shirt. I haven't cried like this for years, but it feels surprisingly good. With every wave, it feels like the weight is slowly being lifted off of my shoulders. All of the weight that I have been carrying for all of these years, all of the responsibility thrust onto me at such a young age, is being slowly removed.
I don't know how long we sit there, but my legs start to cramp and I'm sure Peeta's arms have fallen asleep. He shifts so that I'm leaning against the back of the couch instead of him and I only open my eyes when I feel the coldness that tells me he's not on the couch any more. I see him disappear into the kitchen.
He's back in a minute holding a steaming bowl and he perches on the coffee table, setting the bowl down next to him. I feel his fingers caress my chin and I look up at him. He is holding a spoon to my mouth and I take a tentative sip. Chicken broth, vegetables and rice fill my mouth. I swallow and the warmth travels into my stomach, settling comfortable. Peeta feeds me spoonful after spoonful, the soup acting as a balm to ease my tension. When the bowl is empty he sets it aside and gets on his knees in front of me, taking my face into his hands.
"I'll take care of you now, Katniss. Please, let me take care of you," he whispers.
I just look into his eyes and nod.
