This is a chapter I struggled a lot with whether or not I needed to remove large chunks of it and find some other way of getting the same thing across. In the end I decided to go with my original plan for it but my end note will have more detail on this.
I once heard it said that being in love is being consumed by another person. If so then that must be all the proof I need that I'm in love because my mind is occupied at all times with thoughts of Peeta, now even more than before. Not much of it is pleasant at the moment, unfortunately, as daydreaming about him makes me feel strange in the light of everything that's happened recently. Along with the by now familiar pain I feel in my chest whenever I think of him and his budding relationship with Lace I now also spend a lot of time worrying about him and his emotional state.
The evening after our talk on the porch we met up for dinner with Haymitch, as usual. When I first arrived Peeta apologised for having acted strange the previous day but after that he made no more mention of it and his behaviour was back to normal. The conversation we had the day before seemed like a parenthesis and I almost began to wonder if I was remembering it wrong or dreamt the whole thing. Throughout the evening Peeta never mentioned Lace, though that in itself is not uncommon. He talks about her from time to time but thankfully doesn't seem to have the need to bring her up every time we meet for dinner. I secretly hope this means his infatuation with her is fading.
It's been a week and a half since the porch conversation and he hasn't brought it up again. Neither have I, mainly because I'm not sure what I would say or what was really going on. I've been tempted several times to call Dr. Aurelius and voice my concerns but it doesn't seem right to talk to the doctor about something that concerns Peeta's recovery. Perhaps I ought to just disregard our conversation entirely and chalk it up Peeta simply having had an off moment. Only I can't do that. If there is something he's struggling with then I can't just let it go.
On Wednesday we walk together in to town, both of us in need of food supplies among other things. We visit the pharmacy together followed by the shoemaker and then we go to the market to get our groceries. Our last stop is the Justice Building where the post office is located. The paint Peeta sent for has finally arrived and it's a large, fairly heavy parcel so I offer to carry Peeta's groceries for him. He takes me up on the offer and carries the parcel by wedging it under his armpit and holding it with his hand.
"You must have bought a lot of paint" I comment as we step outside into the sunlight. "How many shades does yellow come in?"
"You'd be surprised" he chuckles. "Though most of them I mix myself. It's part of the process, or the challenge in some cases. The reason why this parcel is so big is that I ordered a new palette and a new set of brushes. The reason it's heavy is I got some more tubes of paint along with the yellow."
"So when can I expect to see the primrose painting done?" I ask lightly, feeling a growing sense of relief with each step we take away from the Justice Building and the town square. "Also, will I be needing to buy a frame for it?"
"Patience, Miss Everdeen" he chuckles. "I'm still working on the tree painting and the primroses have only just begun to bloom."
We continue in silence as we pass by the houses on the nowadays fairly busy streets. A few people nod to us or give us a wave, recognizing us from our time in the public eye but knowing that we don't want to be approached randomly. Peeta returns each greeting with a nod while I settle for turning the corners of my mouth up just slightly for a fleeting second. Some people smile at the sight of us together. Or at least that's what I think they're smiling about. Nobody ever smiles at me like that when I'm out by myself.
I like the thought that seeing us together makes people smile. As much as I hated the general public for feeling so invested in our fake romance and felt like they ought to mind their own business I find nowadays that it's reassuring to see that some people still care. I don't like admitting it to myself but I enjoy people seeing us together and knowing that we still matter to one another. It's no secret in the district that Peeta is having dinner with Lace Bomull at least twice a week but there's still a special connection between him and me that no one can deny.
"So, listen…" he says once we've cleared the town and are on the road to the Victors' Village. "About next Friday, when we're supposed to have dinner…"
Rage begins to well up inside of me. I suppose I shouldn't expect him to actually be present for any dinner on a Friday evening anymore but I have just about had it with him bailing on Haymitch and me and this particular occasion is one I won't let him skip out on without consequence.
"Peeta you are not skipping that dinner" I snarl, drawing a deep breath to begin a rant about what I think and feel on the subject.
"What? No!" he says quickly, shaking his head slightly. "No, no, no, no. I'm not going to miss dinner next Friday. I know I've been absent for a couple of Friday dinners but next week I'm there, I promise."
Absent for a couple of Friday dinners? Well that's one way of looking at it. A more accurate description would be that he hasn't had dinner with us a single Friday night in two months. I'm relieved to hear he's going to be there next week but I'm still angry and I'm beginning to feel a strong need to vent my frustration and my concerns. Not even the crooked smile Peeta flashes me does much to calm me.
"Katniss I'm not going to miss your birthday" he says. That, on the other hand, manages to disarm me. "I was just going to ask if you have any preferences for the cake."
"The cake?" I ask, dumbfounded.
"Yeah, silly, your birthday cake."
This turn of events startles me enough that the anger goes away, at least for the time being. I have been worrying that Peeta wouldn't be there for my birthday dinner since it falls on a Friday, even though it shouldn't be that big of a deal. We haven't celebrated each other's birthdays this past year except to let the person having the birthday decide what we'll eat and the other two cook it. Haymitch, who had his birthday in October, decided he wanted pulled pork, something Peeta and I had only eaten once before in the Capitol and had absolutely no idea how to make. It took us forever to prepare it and that's not counting how long it took to actually cook. I've been trying to think of something equally bothersome to ask for in case it would end up being only Haymitch cooking it. The thought that Peeta would plan to bake me a cake is completely unexpected.
"Well…" I say, trying to think of any sort of cake at all but realizing I have no real clue how many variations there are to what is beneath the frosting.
"You don't have to decide right here, right now" says Peeta, amused by my reaction. "Just let me know three or four days in advance so I can make sure I have everything I need to bake it."
"Anything you bake will be fine" I say.
"Hey, you've got a baker here offering to make whatever cake you want" he grins. "Seize the opportunity. Dare to dream."
"I'm just glad you're going to be there" I tell him sincerely.
His grin briefly turns to a grimace. The cherry trees along the road are still in full bloom but a few petals fall here and there and one lands on his cheek. He brushes it off with the hand that's not holding the parcel and keeps his eyes on the petal for a few seconds.
"I'm sorry that I've been skipping dinners now and then."
"Well you've had dates to go on" I say dryly. "One must prioritise."
"See the thing is Friday evenings are the only ones Lace can always take off work" he begins to explain. "Monday through Thursday she spends her evenings working and on Saturdays she usually-"
"I don't need to hear her schedule" I object.
"Maybe we can change our routines a bit, you and me and Haymitch. We've been meeting every other day but why not settle on three or four specific days each week?"
"We have a routine that works" I argue.
"Except on Fridays."
"I'm always there on Fridays" I retort. "So is Haymitch."
Peeta sighs and furrows his brow.
"You're right. I'm the one who can't make the routine fit anymore. What I'm asking, though, is would it really be that much trouble for you guys to agree on a different arrangement?"
"Peeta we have routines for a reason" I point out. "We're not supposed to change them around or deviate from them, you know this. Is there any reason why your girlfriend can't take Thursday nights off instead every other week?"
Peeta's eyes meet mine when he hears me say the word girlfriend. I cringe inwardly. He's never referred to Lace that way and for the life of me I can't understand why I just used the term. He doesn't comment on it but I feel uncomfortable having said it, as if by taking the word in my mouth I have somehow come to accept that my window of opportunity to make him mine has begun to close.
"The reason she works Monday through Thursday evenings is that her store is open Monday through Friday" says Peeta. "Sometimes she can take the night off but oftentimes she's got so much work to do that she has to work evenings for the clothes to be ready on time." There's a touch of pride in his voice as he continues. "She's doing really well. In fact she could probably hire an assistant soon, to help her out."
"Peeta" I say, softly but commandingly. "I think we need to talk about this. About the deviation from our routines."
"I don't want a lecture from you, Katniss" he says sharply.
"That's not what this is about."
"All you do is complain about the fact that I'm spending time with her" he snarls. "If you don't like it then that's your problem, not mine. She matters to me, don't you get that?" We're right outside my house and he takes his grocery bag from my hand. "I'll be there next Friday, don't you worry."
With that he strides off towards his own house, leaving me sighing at his retreating figure. He's gotten more irritable lately. I don't know how this conversation went from me being upset with him to him being upset with me. Whatever is going on with him it's not good but when he won't talk to me about the demons he's fighting I have no idea how to help him. If I ask him I'm almost convinced he will deny that anything is wrong in the first place. He's got a wall up still, though I had begun to believe I had managed to get past them.
The mailbox is empty so I'm only carrying my groceries and my small bag of medication when I walk through the front door. I hear a thump from upstairs and after a few seconds Buttercup comes rushing down the stairs, meowing at me.
"Hey you" I say, walking into the kitchen with the cat in tow. "Did I wake you up? How many hours a day do you spend fast asleep? Your life is passing you by while you nap on my favourite blanket."
I put the bags on the counter and kneel down to pet the cat but all I get from Buttercup is a hiss and a scratch on the arm. Groaning I rise again and walk to the kitchen door to let him out. First Peeta and now Buttercup. This is shaping up to be a wonderful day.
That afternoon I walk over to Peeta's house, hoping he has calmed down and that we can have a serious conversation about what is going on with him. I'm far from sure I can get anywhere with him as he seems to be rather defensive on the subject of Lace or anything related to her. Still I know I have to try and talk to him. I refuse to let him slip away from me and I am determined to get past the walls he's been putting up.
The weather is lovely, as it's been most of the days this spring, so I walk around his house instead of knocking on the front door. As I predicted Peeta is on his back porch with a sketch pad, looking concentrated but not necessarily angry.
"Hey" I say.
He looks up at me.
"Hey yourself."
"What are you working on?" I ask as I walk up the steps to join him.
"A squirrel." He rubs a spot of the paper with his eraser and wipes it clean. "One was sitting right there on the bannister ten minutes ago. He must not have gotten the memo that Katniss and Buttercup, the squirrel-killing duo, live only three houses down."
I smile hesitantly and sit down beside him.
"We like to lure them into a false sense of security" I joke. I look at his sketchpad, amazed by the half-finished yet still lifelike sketch of the animal. "You should do more sketches. That one is really good. You could probably sell these if you wanted."
"People aren't looking to buy stuff to put up on their walls" says Peeta and continues to sketch the animal's front paws.
"Not yet perhaps" I agree. "Someday they will be."
Silence falls between us. Peeta works on his sketch, adding texture and shading to the squirrel's thick tail once he's done with the paws. He's not in the best of moods but he hasn't asked me to leave either and I take that as a good sign.
"I'm sorry I stormed off like an angry child" he says after a while, his eyes still focused on the sketch.
"I'm sorry I kind of freaked out on you when I thought you were going to tell me you won't show up next week."
"I take it you're not here so we can kiss and make up" he says.
"Do people actually do the kiss part?" I ask. "Was that some weird tradition they had back before the Dark Days?"
"I don't know" shrugs Peeta. "My parents used to kiss when they made up after having a fight. Not sure it applies to people who aren't together, though."
"People like you and me?"
"Maybe friends kiss each other on the cheek or something."
An awkward pause follows. Peeta finishes working on the tail and begins to add details to the head. I stare mindlessly at the beech trees that mark the end of his lawn. The rustle of the wind through the leaves and branches makes me feel a little bit better, like a reminder of the tranquillity and peace I sometimes find in the woods.
"I'm not out to criticize you, Peeta, or your choices" I say when at least five minutes have gone by. "Nor am I out to sugar coat things for you. Straying from a routine is a big deal, you know that. Dr. Aurelius has been very clear about it. When you miss our dinners together it affects Haymitch and me too."
"I haven't thought of it that way" he answers. "If that's true then I'm sorry. I know routines are important but there comes a time when we must learn to deal without routines, or create new ones for ourselves. With Lace I…" Sighing heavily he puts the pencil and pad down on the patio table next to him. "Having dinner with you and Haymitch is something I appreciate but maybe not every other day. Earlier on you called Lace my girlfriend. I'm not sure that's what she is yet but we're definitely heading that way and I have to find a way to incorporate that into the other aspects of my life. I was hoping you and Haymitch would be able to understand that."
"I worry about you, Peeta" I say. "You've been acting strange lately."
"Why? Because I've wanted to spend time with Lace?"
"Because you get very defensive where she is concerned, for one thing. Peeta I want to understand what's going on with you. Something's clearly bothering you."
"Besides the fact that something in my life finally feels right and all I get from you is negativity about it?"
"I don't like that you break our routines for her and I'm not comfortable knowing you spend so much time with someone when you don't know who they really are" I say. "I'm worried she might hurt you."
"I know she cares about me" he replies. "I know I want to be near her."
"Why?" I challenge. "What's so special about her, Peeta? What can she offer you that I can't?"
"It's not easy to explain" he says, seemingly not noticing my exact words nor the slight blush on my cheeks.
"Try me."
He visibly hesitates. I see his eyes moving back and forth in their typical way when he's pondering something. Then he takes a deep breath and exhales through his mouth.
"Okay, this is going to sound… so much like wallowing in self-pity but bear with me."
"Never in the time I've known you have I seen you wallow in self-pity" I reply, wondering to myself if he's really that bad a judge of his own character or if he's just that good at hiding his emotions.
"See, the thing is…" he begins. "After the war… No, even sooner than that. When I recovered enough from the hijacking to really start to feel like me again, if only for brief periods of time… I know it sounds crazy but I've struggled so many times with the feeling that there must be something wrong with me. Not the hijacking or anything else that's been done to me, but something wrong with me. I've often wondered if I'm simply lacking something, some basic quality. Forgive me the self-pity here, but I've been feeling like I lack whatever it is everybody else has that makes people love them."
"I don't understand."
He looks pained and he hesitates, each word seeming to be a struggle.
"Well… Logically I know that my parents loved me. They must have, that's how it all works. I never gave it any thought growing up. Looking back, though, I've asked myself over and over how my mother could hit me and speak so harshly to me and at the same time love me. And my father, how could he have loved me when he allowed her to do those things to me? Same goes for my brothers, I mean I think of you and Prim and of Gale and his siblings and Johanna and her kid sister who they killed and the one common denominator is the older sibling wanting to protect their younger sibling. Yet my brothers didn't try to protect me from my mother's… harshness."
I try my best to follow his train of thought. I can't deny that I too have often wondered how Mrs. Mellark could hurt her eleven year-old child badly enough to leave a black eye but I never thought Peeta asked himself the same thing. His comment about Johanna surprises me, too. I know she said that there's nobody left that she loved but it didn't occur to me that she might have had siblings once, too. Upon hearing this I can't help but wonder if part of her resentment towards me is that I was able to protect my sister and even though I defied the Capitol when I held out those berries my sister still got to live unharmed, while Johanna wasn't able to protect hers. Now that my sister is dead too perhaps we can find even more common ground.
Peeta has been silent for a few seconds but when he continues speaking I set aside all thoughts of Johanna and give him my full attention. He has picked up the sketchpad again and is doodling aimlessly as he talks, his eyes on the paper rather than on me.
"One thing I remember believing between our Games is that I mattered to Haymitch. True, he planned to sacrifice me to save you in our first arena but I asked him to do that and I know he knew it would be a waste of effort to aim to make me the winner. When he got me out of the arena too we formed a bond and in a way we were each other's family and that comes with some measure of affection. But it's hard to think of his feelings regarding me in terms of love when he sacrificed me during the Quarter Quell. Without any qualms. I was an acceptable loss, so long as you were protected. Again, wallowing in self-pity, I know. What happened wasn't his fault. Still the thoughts come to me every now and then. Basically I've just… asked myself over and over again why it seems so impossible for anyone to love me, love me enough to want to keep me safe."
His words hurt my heart. I cannot help but notice that he hasn't mentioned me at all and my inability to love him the way he so deserves but most of all I feel deep pain over knowing that he feels unloved. I don't think it's a matter of self-pity. I'm fairly certain that this is something Snow engineered, putting all that doubt in Peeta's mind, making him feel worthless and abandoned and all alone in the world. I'm beginning to realize that there are aspects of the hijacking that I've never even imagined.
He sets the pencil down for a second and I stick my hand in his and give it a squeeze, racking my brain to find the right words to say to him. Before I can think of anything Peeta continues.
"And now there's Lace." His lips actually form a smile in spite of the dreary subject we're discussing and his words flow more easily. "There's this wonderful, kind-hearted, vivacious young woman who seems to think I'm amazing. I can't remember anybody has ever made me feel this way, Katniss. I haven't been spending time with her for very long and I don't know for sure yet what really is between us or where it might lead but for the first time in as long as I can remember I feel like there is indeed something about me that's loveable."
"You don't need Lace for that" I reply. "Peeta you're… you're the only truly decent person to ever come out of the Games alive. You're the one everyone looked up to for his goodness of heart and strength of character and compassion. I think all of Panem loved you in a way, and… and I think perhaps that factored in to their decision to hijack you. Like a punishment for being such a good person, you know?"
"Thanks, but…" He chuckles and gives me a strangely sunny smile. "To me all of that is just… stories. It's easy to admire and love the idea of someone when you don't know them. People saw what they wanted to see and I know I had my share of fans but the people who knew me, those who actually mattered, they are the ones I keep thinking about and keep feeling like not a single one of them loved or loves me. Lace… she sees me differently. She sees the person I am now, the damaged soul on the other end of the hijacking, and she genuinely wants to be around me and get to know me better. She and I… I think there can be something genuine and really good there."
His words seem to make it hard for me to breathe. I know I should hold my tongue but I can't help the words that come out of my mouth.
"Peeta be careful. Don't get in too deep with this girl because you feel loved by her. I don't have a doubt that she will love you but that doesn't mean…"
"I like the way I feel when I'm with her" Peeta says, cutting me off before I can finish what I wanted to say. "Really, isn't that what matters? She makes me feel good and I'm at some form of peace when I'm with her."
Deflated I let go of his hand, the gesture feeling too intimate all of a sudden. He picks the pencil back up and turns to a blank page in his sketchbook, where he begins to draw something. I scoot closer to him on the wooden bench, aching to have some bit of physical contact between us, even if it's not as close as handholding. Another silence falls between us but this time it seems lighter. Peeta seems a bit more at ease now that he's voiced something that's obviously been bottling up inside him for a long time. If only I knew how to get him to understand that the last thing he lacks is the ability to make people love him. I love him and I think I have from very early on, albeit not romantically the entire time. Haymitch loves him, too, I know that for sure. It's just a little hard to think right now as I try to quench the highly unpleasant emotions that came with the double-whammy of hearing him say he hasn't felt genuinely loved and adding that he might have finally found that in her. I don't even notice at first that Peeta seems troubled too, a deep frown on his face that wasn't there a moment ago. Once I do notice I try to put my own difficult emotions aside and focus on him.
"What is it?" I ask. "What's wrong?"
"I'm scared, Katniss."
"Scared of what?"
He stops sketching and raises his head, staring up at the clouds with a distant expression. My hand on his shoulder brings him back to me but he rises from his seat as if too fidgety to sit still. The sketchpad falls to the floor but he makes no move to pick it up. I stand up as well and gently squeeze his arm with my hand to let him know I'm with him. He takes a few heavy breaths, brow still furrowed, his eyes moving back and forth the way they do when he's struggling with some decision or thought-process.
"Through sheer luck I've never had an… attack… around her" he then says. "I've told her I sometimes feel overcome by the darkness and the memories but I haven't been able to make myself tell her more than that. I'm worried that when the time comes that I have an attack when I'm with her, and that time will come if I keep seeing her, she's going to…" He takes a heavy breath, exhaling in a huff. "I'm scared that she's going to leave me. That it will frighten her, disgust her, make her think of me the way so many other people think of me. I don't want her to think I'm a mutt. Not her, Katniss." He looks at me with what can only be described as despair. "What if she sees me all differently after seeing that? What if she thinks I'm horrible, or unstable, or dangerous? What if she can't love me then? And worst of all, what if I hurt her?"
He's beginning to get himself worked up so I let go of his arm and put that hand on his cheek instead, my other hand landing on his shoulder to squeeze it reassuringly.
"You're not going to hurt her" I say insistently. "You're not going to do that. You've had those attacks around me at least a handful of times since you've been back and not once have you hurt me. Why then would you hurt her? The hijacking was designed to make you want to hurt me. She was never a factor. You didn't even know her then."
"What if she gets scared that I'll hurt her?" asks Peeta, his voice practically pleading me to reassure him. "What do I do then? I can't stand to think about it."
"Peeta… The hijacking is a part of you now and always will be but it's not who you are. Any girl, any woman, who loves you truly and who is worthy of your love in return is not going to let it deter her. The woman you deserve is someone who will love you so much that she hates the people who did that to you but only feels protective of you when you're like that. If Lace is what you hope she is then it will be fine. If not…"
"If not?" he echoes with a tremble.
"If not then she's not the right girl for you."
"Should I tell her?" he asks while I run my hands up and down his upper arms, hoping it will help him stop shivering. "Exactly what those attacks are about and how they tend to play out and what she can expect?"
"I don't know" I say. "Like you said, she's going to find out at some point anyway, right? I don't know her at all really so you have to be the one to decide if she'll respond better to knowing about it in advance or finding out when the moment comes."
He closes his eyes for a moment and tilts his face downward, as in defeat. His eyes then meet mine again and I find myself oddly glad to be sharing this moment with him, that he can be this vulnerable with me.
"Katniss why did this have to happen to me?" he asks with so much sadness that I almost can't bear hearing it.
I know the answer to that one. It's something that eats away at me constantly, sometimes keeping me up into the small hours of the night. The closeness I feel with him in this moment, the intimacy and the vulnerability, almost makes me blurt out the real answer but luckily I catch myself before the significant words pass by my lips and I'm able to change my answer into something of less magnitude. Love or no love, this is not the way to let him find out.
"Because I lo… Because we longed to be free of the tyranny and they needed to make examples out of you and Johanna and Annie. Because District 13 made me the figurehead of the rebellion and Snow saw the perfect weapon in you. Somebody I trusted implicitly, who would easily get close enough to me to kill me. It was nothing you did to deserve this."
"No I know" he says, nodding slightly. "It wasn't your fault either."
Yes it was, but he can't know in what way. I pull him close and hold him in my arms, closing my eyes and allowing myself the luxury of having a moment like this with him. How I used to take his embraces for granted, seeing it as natural that he would want to wrap his arms around me. I never, ever thought I could lose this. I'm not prepared to let it go. Holding him this way, feeling his body pressed up against mine, makes my resistance begin to crumble.
"It will be alright, Peeta" I whisper in his ear. "One way or another. And you will always have Haymitch and me."
He pulls back and smiles slightly, though it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Thanks. But it's just not the same… I really want to see if I can have her, and what that could mean. I don't want to be stuck in the past all my life and with her I see a possible future that isn't weighed down by all the darkness and the horrors. It scares me to think that she might not be able to accept my past and we willing to look past it."
I force myself to smile, even though what I really want to do is cry.
"If she's the right girl for you then there won't be a problem" I manage.
"Or maybe she's far too good for the likes of me" he argues.
"Peeta, please" I say. "She's lucky to have your affections. Really, truly lucky."
He chuckles a bit.
"Well you ought to know, I suppose. Though you never were all that happy being the object of my affection, were you?"
I have no idea how to answer that. Partially it is true. His love for me made me uncomfortable, for many reasons. Now I would give anything to have it back.
"Peeta do you believe that you need to have a girlfriend in order to be happy?" I find myself asking. I hope he doesn't take offense to the question. I've never thought of him as someone who needs a someone to be happy but I can't deny that the hijacking has changed him and I sure as hell don't want to lose him to some other girl just because she loves him even if he doesn't love her back.
"No, Katniss, of course not."
"It's not a dumb question, you know" I say. "All I'm getting at is that you shouldn't need someone to be infatuated with you in order to feel good about yourself. Are you pursuing her because she wants you and not vice versa?"
"You're a hobby psychologist now?" he snorts.
"No. I'm being serious, here. And you're evading the question."
"I'm not evading it. I just answered it."
I take his face between the palms of my hands and look deep into his eyes. For a moment we just gaze at each other, each lost in our own thoughts but still connected. Everything he's said today about how Lace makes him feel runs through my mind along with all the insecurities he voiced. Unlike before I know my own heart now and I know there's nothing I desire more than to be with him. I know I am at a fork in the road with the choice to either pursue him with all my might or to step back, admit defeat and allow him the chance of happiness with her. One option means the chance of him loving me back and the risk of losing his friendship. The other means giving up on the possibility of having his heart again but guaranteeing his friendship.
"Katniss…"
There's an uncertainty in his voice yet the same steadiness he always brought to everything. Is he thinking what I'm thinking? Does he want what I want? Is all of that still alive in him somewhere, just in need of a push from me to blossom again? Or has the time for that come and gone and he desires only her?
"Answer me, Peeta…" I say in a low voice. "Do you think you need a relationship to be happy? Is that the reason why you're so keen on spending time with her? Are you willing to settle for a relationship with someone who loves you even if you may not feel it back?"
"I could never do that" says Peeta, his voice gravelly. "Not to her. Not to anyone."
My heart pounds in my chest so loudly that I can barely hear him. My mouth is completely dry and I'm so nervous that I can barely breathe. I know what I want to do. I want to take the chance. I don't want to lose him by default. So I forget all reason, forget logic, forget everything I fear and take the leap.
"I love you, Peeta" I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.
"I love you, too" he answers, his voice steady and calm. "You're like my family now, you and Haymitch. Which is why I need for you to be able to accept Lace. I really think I might be falling for her and I don't know what to do if you and Haymitch can't accept her."
Oddly it doesn't hurt as much as I had feared it would. All I feel is emptiness as I realize what is happening. Peeta doesn't understand that I'm in love with him; he thinks I love him the way I used to love Gale. The way you love a friend. Whether or not he was aware of it he gave me a definitive answer. He sees Lace as a potential girlfriend. He sees me as family. That is what I have been relegated to.
My hands fall to my sides and my shoulder slump. Slowly the pain begins to come but I fight it off, knowing I have to make it through the end of this conversation. If I fall apart here and now I might lose everything.
"As long as you're sure" I mutter, averting my eyes as I find I can't look into Peeta's. "I want to be able to accept the… the woman you choose."
"Look, I know it's a little weird" says Peeta softly. "You were my de facto girlfriend before even if it wasn't real and this situation is new to us both. The last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable in any way. I shouldn't even be talking to you about my relationship with her but I can't really talk to Haymitch and…"
"It's not weird" I insist, a touch too passionately.
"It's okay if it is" he replies.
"It's not" I say sharply. "As you said, it wasn't real with us, right?" I pull away, creating distance between us. "Look I need to get going, I'm expecting a call from my mother." The lie slips easily past my lips. I walk past him and step down from the porch, giving him a look over my shoulder. "If you're sure about her then… then I will have to trust you. I won't cause any trouble. I promise."
He nods slowly, looking emotionally exhausted but lighter at heart. Without sparing him another glance I begin my walk back home, still feeling unexpectedly calm. I even give a casual greeting to Haymitch as I pass by him on my way. Once I'm back inside the safety of my own home I find myself staring at my reflection in the hallway mirror with wide eyes. I told Peeta I love him. He misunderstood me completely. He told me he's falling in love with somebody else.
A wave of pain rises in me and slowly I begin to tremble, closing my eyes as a few stray tears roll down my cheeks. He is gone now, that boy who stood beside me on the chariot and held my hand. The boy who confessed his love for me on national television. The boy who wanted me to decide to live in the second arena because his life would have no meaning if I was not in it. And I am an awful person for wishing, even for just a moment, that he had been killed physically as well instead of living on to desecrate what once was.
I force myself to move, to walk up the stairs and draw a hot bath in the bathroom connected to my bedroom. I choose foam that smells of coconut and slowly undress as the water fills in the tub. It's almost too hot when I step into it but I need the heat, need a strong sensation to cancel out the burning pain and aching loneliness. Sinking down into the water I close my eyes and lean my head back, trying to come to grips with everything.
For as long as I have known Peeta, and not just known of Peeta, the fact that he's in love with me has been such an integral part of him. It's impossible to think of him as he was back then without thinking of the way he looked at me, cared for me, felt for me. With that gone, can he still be Peeta the way I remember him to be? This boy I love, the one who is giving his heart to a seamstress from District 8, can he really be the same boy who loved me so? Or is he different now, not because of who he loves but because of how they made him? Did Snow's doctors and technicians perhaps even have some method of blocking his heart from ever loving me again?
I sink down, the almost too hot water washing over my face, and when my head is above surface again there's foam everywhere. I wipe it off and force myself not to imagine that Peeta is in the tub with me. I've been doing things like that a lot, imagining him when he's not there, picturing conversations we would have, visualizing the way he would look at me and lean in to kiss me.
It's time to stop with fantasies like that. I have to stop believing that he might return my feelings. Even if he can, now is not the right time. If the Peeta I knew before is still intact inside of him then in time his heart will eventually remember how he felt about me for so long. Perhaps he needs to be with somebody else right now. Perhaps he's not ready yet to love me like he used to do. He's right about one thing: I cannot give him the sense of having been loved right from the start. It took me a while to fall; just like Annie did with Finnick Peeta grew on me. Lace must be falling in love already and she is far braver than I am because she doesn't seem to be frightened or bashful about her emotions. I should step back and let this thing between them run its course. I don't have much of a choice. Right now I have nothing to gain from pursuing him.
The only previous experience I have of a situation like this is when I was the person two people wanted to be with. To say that it was difficult for me would be an understatement. I think of the way I felt knowing that both Peeta and Gale wanted to be with me and that I would have to hurt one or both of them. I think of how desperate I was to keep Gale close and how I kissed him and gave him hints of promises that I couldn't stand for and I don't want Peeta to do the same with me. Being on the other side of the situation I realize that my behaviour towards Gale was far more unfair than upright rejection would have been. The possibility of Peeta acting towards me like I acted towards Gale out of fear that if he doesn't he might lose me as a friend makes me shiver. I would rather have an honest no than a false yes from Peeta and being kissed by him when he doesn't genuinely want to would be worse than never feeling his lips on mine again.
I recall how guilty I felt whenever I kissed Peeta, because of Gale. I didn't want to be with Gale romantically and I was only beginning to understand that I did want Peeta's kisses but nonetheless the feeling of guilt was there. I want Peeta to be happy. I don't want him to have to feel torn or guilty. If I'm not the one he wants I don't want him to feel obligated towards me anyway and experience the same guilt I felt. I've come to realize over the past few years that you can never owe a person to love them or want them. It has to come on its own. I care too deeply about Peeta to want him to feel that way when he kisses her, even though I desperately wish he wouldn't kiss her at all.
I groan slightly and lift my leg out of the water, studying it as water and foam slides down it. My leg, like the rest of my body, is covered in scars and reminders of the past. Peeta's body is the same. He can't look in a mirror without seeing the marks the war and the torture left on him, not unless he's fully clothed. Compared to the two of us Lace is pure and whole. Why would he want more of the scars and the marks when he could have something like that instead?
Why would he want my darkness and fire when he could have her light and gentleness? Perhaps Lace is his dandelion. Perhaps he needs something like that at this stage in his life. How can I begrudge him that when I know so well how badly one can need it, even if that means denying myself that very thing?
There's not really a choice to be made anymore. I let my leg sink back into the water and I stare mindlessly at the foam that covers my body from view, breathing in the faint coconut smell. I choose what will make Peeta the happiest. I can't give up hope that someday that might be me, but for the time being it's clear that Lace is doing something for him that I cannot. I won't interfere with that. I will hide my wounded heart and wait for this all to be over.
It's impossible not to think of how Peeta handled the situation when our roles were reversed. He never gave me a hard time about the feelings he thought I had for Gale. He never pushed me, pressured me or demanded anything from me. He went into the Quarter Quell arena to fight for me to live, encouraging me to forget him and have a life of happiness with Gale. I cannot love Peeta and not at least try to follow his example. I must take a step back and allow for him to pursue this girl if that's what he needs right now. Giving up on him entirely is not an option but getting in his way is not an option either.
Again I sink down underneath the water, trying to will my heartache and longing to rest beneath the surface as well.
So, much of what Peeta tells Katniss in this chapter were things I had a hard time deciding if he actually would reveal to her. I considered removing it and working it into one of the Peeta POV bits I'm doing but I wanted Katniss to have this information about him and in the end this seemed like the best option. Whether or not it's appropriate for him to discuss these things with her is a different matter (I considered having him talk to dr. Aurelius about it instead but, as I said, I wanted Katniss to know about it).
Additionally, much of what he reveals to her are things meant to be specific to this story. I don't think Peeta felt particularly un-loved in canon but it seemed like an interesting angle for his character.
This chapter basically marks the end of the first third of the story. I've divided it into three main parts which will each have a slightly different focus. I hope you'll be willing to follow me through the second and third part as well =)
