X. Sender: Johanna Mason
My hair has grown longer than I've worn it since my childhood. Even then, holding my father's hand on the first day of school, it hadn't reached the length it has these days. I haven't cut it since District 13, since before… the fire bombs. I let it grow so that the bald patches would be hidden. When I realized that the patches were gone and soft black hair started to grow there instead, I contemplated having a radical change, going as far as asking for advice on how to cut it myself from Effie, who sent me a bunch of old Capitol magazines for hairdressers.
The idea of leaving the braided girl called the Mockingjay behind was a tempting one. People often recognize me - because of my braid. With a short bob they surely would stop looking at me. In the end I didn't cut it and when I found Peeta's drawings behind the desk in the bakery office, I knew what had kept me from doing it. I had been sad that he didn't write any love letter to me, but these paintings…they were a different kind of love letter.
The detailed drawing of my every strand makes me believe that Peeta is fascinated by my hair. In the sketches I often wear it open. Or in a complicated braid, a loose ponytail - the one I often sported in bed on the train. More than once I'm portrayed with those two braids I wore as a girl, both ending at my bared, peaked nipples. This seemed too much of a coincidence. Maybe Peeta has some sexual fantasies that involve me with long, wavy hair? I'm glad I didn't go through with it in the end.
My locks end shortly before my bottom cheeks. Slowly I begin to divide the strands with a silver brush. The brush is actually one of the the many convenient goods that came with my house in the Victor's Village. Everything was indeed provided for. Not only for me. My mother and Prim also got their own sets of toiletries, nail clippers, ribbons, even perfume. It came with a price, but I'll never forget the looks on their faces. Prim was so excited about a beautiful sea-blue ribbon, enamored with a small silver shell. Some small part of me was happy that I'd won. That I had survived to see that look on her face.
Then I remembered Rue and Foxface, Thresh, even Cato….and the smile left my face. I spent the last year with Prim moping when we should've laughed together. If I'd only known what was about to happen. I would have tried to hide my pain better. She had worried about me, too much. If I'd only known… Tears are forming in my eyes and I shake my head. I've got to stop this. Crying won't bring her back to me.
There had been a few fun evenings, a few memories that make me smile. One time she wanted to go all out and tried herself as a hairdresser. She had been talented in that stylist area, the more girlish activities seem to come easy to her. One day she would have fallen in love. Would have been more interested in her own looks than in mine. Sniffling, I gather a big chunk of hair from the top center of my head, right above my forehead. The braid I want to create is complicated to make on your own. I haven't tried to style myself for years, as I didn't feel like I had to.
Tonight I want to look my best. Sighing to myself, I grab onto a dark brown hair-clip to keep the odd stubborn strand out of the way. I'm nervous and that is not good. Can't expect Peeta to be confident, if I don't show confidence myself.
He's been back for a week. I took him to the bakery after we talked in the woods and as I had thought his eyes began to shine when he went into the back area, where Eric baked some District 10 speciality. Eric and Peeta immediately warmed up to one another, Peeta being very social, easing Eric's nervousness away.
They went into an light conversation about baking and I admit I felt a little jealous at seeing them talking about their trade. Peatrice, was more withdrawn. She is a talkative and nice girl, but while Eric never met Peeta she had known him before, and was maybe a bit afraid of him still. He was nothing but kind, but she remained wary.
Peeta went back to his house and that was when they started to pester me with questions about the future.
Would I stop being a baker? Would Peeta replace me? Would we all work together, or would they be laid off?
I could only tell them that we hadn't decided yet. I couldn't tell them about Peeta selling the bakery. I was still in too much of a shock. If I'm honest with myself, I still am. I don't know what to do. Would Peeta tell me for how much he sold the bakery? Maybe I can buy it back. My finances aren't as gloomy as his. If it isn't enough, my mother could certainly help me, lend me money. I could also ask Haymitch, who has his workshop and probably would be more than willing to help us out.
But - and that's the most important question - does Peeta want the bakery back?
Even if he does, I feel that there might be potential conflict between us, if I'm the owner. I'm more than willing to give it to him as a gift. I protected the place for him. I never thought of it as mine, only ever his. Or maybe, in some weird small way, as ours. I don't want to become Peeta's employer, even if it's in name only. He is the one whose eyes grew misty at the prospect of rebuilding his parents shop. He even gave up his new leg, because he wanted to do this when he came back.
We go hunting together, and while Peeta certainly wasn't lying about his skills, I'm afraid that he puts his energies into this because he believes that the bakery is lost to him forever. I can never accept this though. I'm certain there is a way, even if I can't see it at this moment. I'm planning a call to Dr. Aurelius for advice. He has treated Peeta and knows about his situation. He always encouraged me when it came to keeping the business running. At a time when Peeta already sold it. Maybe he can help me out.
Not tonight, though. We have plans to go to a small lake in the woods. Peeta wants to try out some fishing techniques he learned about in the Capitol. It's not the lake my father used to go to, but the one nearer to the District.
Everything about this scenario screams romance to me. Me and Peeta on a blanket near the lake? This is the opportunity I've been waiting for. We exchanged a few hesitant kisses last week, mostly pecks on the lips to say hello or goodbye. I want more, much more.
At the moment I would also be more than happy with kisses that last more than a few fleeting seconds. Giddiness overwhelms me, as I have a feeling that tonight might be the night to finally get closer. Sadly, Peeta still seems to unsure and shy. It's been so long since we've been together, close physically. I feel like a different person, but I cannot for the life of me remember if Peeta had always been so distant and nervous before when we were close, when things got more physical between us. Our most passionate kiss in the Quarter Quell happened over five years ago. I still remember it, quite vividly. But maybe the kiss how I remember it did not happen at all - it might be a romanticized version of a memory. I could get videos of the Quarter Quell, but I couldn't stand to watch it. Mags, Finnick….there are too many horrible memories, I'd hate to relive.
There is no sister, no girlfriend, no one left I could ask about boys. There is no doubt that this awkwardness, this hesitancy is somehow related to Peeta's injury, but I realized years ago with Gale, that I'm actually pretty clumsy when it comes to romance. How can I seduce him, make him feel relaxed and wanted? He turns away so quickly when I start to lean closer, I have no idea what to do. In my desperation I wrote to Johanna. She was the first person that came to my mind when I thought of sexy seductress. And the way men, including Peeta, reacted to her….She just oozes self-confidence and sex-appeal. And I trust her. So I timidly mentioned that I could use some advice. There hasn't been an answer so far, but I anxiously check my red letter box every morning, awaiting that letter from my dear friend.
We make it to the lake in just fifteen minutes. Peeta's new leg is a wonder for sure. I tried to jokingly suggest for us both to go swimming, to check if it works underwater but Peeta shrugged it off, looked embarrassed for one second and then mumbled something about scaring off the fish if he goes into the water. It makes me sad. He is being so guarded around me. For some reason, he can't relax entirely and I leave him to hunt for a bit, but when I'm out of sight I lean against some tree and breathe out deeply. This is obviously not a trip that will end up in a make-out session, quite the opposite. Peeta has things he wants to tell me, I can feel it. Without enthusiasm I look around to get some herbs to rub on the fish. If he catches one, that is.
When I return some time later, he has surprisingly not only caught a fish, he also got a fire going with the help of some charcoal he obviously brought along, but I didn't notice him carrying. Peeta is so into the survival business, it honestly baffles me. And he's good at it, which irritates me for some reason.
"Hey, you," I say handing him the herbs and he looks up to me, smiling.
"Hey," he says, and begins to sprinkle them on the fish, " I got a big one. This will easily satisfy our hunger."
"Easily," I rasp back, strangely aroused. I get down next to him and lean over for a kiss. He gives me short peck on the lips and then slides away. He looks away quickly when I try to catch his gaze, however I notice that the look in Peeta's eyes is helpless, frightened and I immediately shrink back as if he'd struck me. I don't want to feel like I'm doing something that makes him uncomfortable. Like I'm forcing myself on him. Doesn't he want me to kiss him? Doesn't he want to touch me all the time, like I do? Am I sick for wanting him so badly? This is getting increasingly frustrating and one-sided. I initiate every contact between us. It makes me feel bad. Like I'm crossing boundaries and he's afraid to tell me, no.
I catch his gaze and he looks away quickly again and then gives a long drawn-out sigh. Why is he so skittish? "I forgot my small backpack back home," he says, "There is a book I bought. It's about fishing and the local fauna. Pretty interesting stuff. And my…pill box. There is a headache coming, I can feel it."
"Pill box?" I inquire, "Medicine for headaches? What kind of headaches are these?"
I see a small bead of sweat over his eyebrows. Peeta looks frustrated now, as if I'm not getting the hints he's been throwing at me. At all. He shakes his head and leans back against the tree, exhaling. I'm not a mind reader. If he doesn't talk or answers my questions how can this ever work out?
"Forgive me," he says slowly, "I forget that you weren't in therapy with me. That you have no idea about me and my thoughts. That I never told you and that I can't expect you to understand without me trying to make you understand."
I think we're getting somewhere so I decide to let him talk now, and annoy him with questions later. Bad plan.
He stares into the distance. After a minute I can't bear the silence and try to open up a bit.
"Then make me understand," I urge, "It might be hard, but if you are open with me, we can get through this. I want to understand you better. If you want us to be…something, we have to work on getting to know each other better. I want to know you. Everything about you. Please, please tell me."
Peeta looks at the fish above the coals and then leans back.
The noise of the cicadas is the only noise for a while and then Peeta starts to talk.
"Do you remember the Coopers?" he says and I look up into his eyes. They seem a pale shade of blue in the fading orange of the day. His eyes flit away to the lake once more.
"Yeah," I answer hesitantly. "Who doesn't?"
The Coopers were the biggest family clan in District 12. The grocery belonged to them. The patriarch, Roy Cooper, owned the second biggest house in town, lived next to the Undersees and died when I was small. I still remember the funeral because most merchant kids didn't come to school that day. Nearly all of them were somehow related to the Coopers.
"My father was a Cooper," Peeta whispers into the wind and I stare at him. What?
"I always assumed…," I start.
"That he had been born as baker?" Peeta interrupts, an uneasy laugh leaving him, "No, my mother's maiden name is Mellark. The bakery was her father's bakery."
His voice turns quiet and my ears strain to hear, paying rapt attention, focused on Peeta's every word.
"My father was Roy Cooper's fourth son of seven children altogether."
"Oh," is all I manage, licking my lips. "That sounds complicated?"
"It is," Peeta says. "The Coopers were always... how can I describe it? Potent? There were too many of them. I think some even started to marry their cousins. Honestly, I was never interested in my family's history. My father didn't interact with his parents, after he took over the bakery. It's like he left this part of his life behind, when he started to work as an apprentice for grandfather Mellark, became a surrogate son to him in a way."
"So your mother and your father met at the bakery?"
"Yeah. I think - and this is something I'm not entirely sure of as my parents never talked about personal stuff with us boys - that my grandfather forced my mother to marry my father. Or at least played a big part in it. You see, the Mellarks are the very opposite of the Coopers. The old baker, grandfather Mellark, had trouble getting my grandmother pregnant. They had been an elderly couple when my mother was born and my grandmother died when she was little. The birth had been hard on her and she never got better. My brother once asked my mother why she had to be so mean, hitting him all the time. She simply said that she had grown up that way, too. That this was normal and he shouldn't be such a sissy. Dr. Aurelius' thinks, she simply did to us what was done to her as a child. She didn't know any better, had no loving mother only a strict father who showed his affection by giving a good beating. This was her life. And it wasn't a good one. She had to work in the bakery, starting as a young girl, never being allowed to play outside or have fun in any way. She essentially took the place of my grandmother and tried to survive."
Peeta turns the fish around, frying the other side and places the coal gently around it.
"She was getting older and my grandfather was getting more frail, desperate for someone to take over. I think, she wanted to run it by herself. That had been her dream all along. But he did not allow her to bake, saying a woman's job was to tend to the customers and do the accounting. That she was too weak for this. She was almost thirty when my grandfather and Roy Cooper made a deal. My father loved baking and was happy to get a job in town when he finished school. He and my grandfather hit it off right away. I told you he wanted to marry your mother. My theory is that marrying old spinster Mellark wasn't the dream of a twenty year old guy."
"Old spinster Mellark?" I echo.
"That's what the neighbors called my mother, even after we were born," Peeta says and shakes his head, "Town people can be cruel."
Not only town people, I guess. Peeta's family history is bleak. Once more I can appreciate that I grew up in a loving home with parents who loved us and each other.
"Your mother ran away with a coal miner, Mr. Everdeen," Peeta continues. "My father had lost the girl he had his eyes on, but I'm sure he had not only dreamed about marriage to your mother. One of his other dreams was to get the bakery, so he got over it pretty quickly. My father told my oldest brother the story of how grandfather Mellark promised him the name and the business - if he married my mother. He had been working there for years, didn't dislike her. She looked okay, and was a good match. Maybe he even felt sorry for her. My mother refused to do it and my grandfather threatened her. If she wouldn't marry my father he would throw her out of the house. So she did. Nine months in and the first male Mellark since decades was born. My grandfather died three months after. And they both were stuck."
"Oh Peeta," I groan. I had no idea about any of this. It makes a lot of sense that Peeta didn't want to marry me. I had been confused about his reactions. An arranged marriage. That was so rare in District 12. At least I'd never heard about it before.
"I think my father felt guilty all his life, you know. He didn't speak up against her, because he felt he had no right. He always did exactly what she said and agreed with everything. The times they fought…."
Peeta blushes suddenly.
"Yeah?" I urge him on. I admit to being curious about the Mellarks, indeed. My former home had been completely different to Peeta's.
"We thought they fought. My brothers and I. They used to say; 'We need to talk, boys. Leave the house, play in the garden.' And sometimes, at night, they made these loud noises. Only later, you know…did we realize what they were really up to…."
"Oh," I chuckle. "They had sex." I really don't want to imagine the baker and the witch in the bedroom, but somehow I find this information to be cute. I imagine the three Mellark boys in their beds, wondering if their parents were out killing each other in the bedroom and grin to myself. It is funny, in a way.
He nods. "Do you remember something similar about your parents?"
I shake my head. "Obviously they made love," I say, "but I don't remember it. They must've been good at hiding, or I didn't really care. I was still a little girl, you know."
He laughs, "Yeah, I think my brothers actually found out what they were really doing. I thought it was gross. Back then. Now I don't. I'm glad that they at least had this to tie them together. Remember my mother got pregnant twice after my grandfather died. She could've prevented it and left it at my older brother, never touch my father again. I think they learned to compromise and she actually liked him back. They enjoyed some aspects of their married life and it changed for the better, after she was finally free of my grandfather. It was not love that brought them together, but they worked out - for some reason."
A lot of things about Peeta make more sense to me after this. It's like a bunch of puzzle pieces all fit together.
"There must've been some resentment left," I murmur checking if the fish is ready and Peeta looks at the distant shore.
"There certainly was. My mother believed that her birthright had been stolen from her and she had had no choice in the matter. She couldn't have done it alone, though. She must've known at least this. But she didn't like to see my father trading with you and Gale or do other stuff she had no control over. She didn't like to share things. She was dominant and possessive to the last stone-hard breadcrumb. In her mind she must've been afraid that it would somehow get taken away from her, that she would be left on the street with nothing but her clothes on. Might be that was the reason why she refused to move to the Victor's Village. The bakery was her one true love. She couldn't bear to leave it. She would've stayed no matter what. So it is no wonder it became her grave in the end."
I wonder if Peeta realizes the parallels between his mother and himself. I'm sure he does, he worked it out in therapy. He also must've known that running the bakery by himself was impossible. He became possessive, irrationally jealous of Henry. If I he hadn't tried to reach out, who knows how it would've all ended for Peeta. Coldness seeps into my limbs when I think about the horrors that could've been.
"You probably ask yourself why I told you all of this." His voice makes me turn his attention back to him.
"It is very brave that you did," I respond.
"When I first came back, I told you, you had the right to see the bigger picture, to know the whole story, before you actually get into a relationship with me, didn't I?"
"Yeah," I say, hairs on my neck standing up. Is this it? Is he ready to tell me?
"Do you want children, Katniss?"
Swallowing, I stare at Peeta. The cicadas have stopped, the whole world seems on standstill. Every nerve is on alert. I know, whatever answer I give to this question will determine our fate as a couple. But that is no reason to lie, to tell him what he might want to hear.
"I never wanted children," I whisper evasively. It's the truth. I never saw myself as a mother.
He waits, sensing there is more.
"I can't tell you," I continue, looking at my hands. "I honestly can't. I never wanted them. Never saw myself married or with a child of my own. A lot of these fears go back to the Games and the huge responsibilities one loads on their shoulders if they bring another person into this world. Another person to take care of. To love….I don't know, Peeta. I'm not sure what you want to hear from me, what the correct answer is. All I can tell you is that right now in this moment, I don't know."
I hear a sniffle and look up. A tear is running down his face. Instinctively I reach out but he moves his body away and stays silent while I wait patiently for him to say something in return.
"We…well…not we. Rather I will never be able to give you children," he presses out finally, "So even if you want them, it's not going to happen. Not now. Not in five, ten or fifteen years. Never. At least with me as your partner."
"No…," I whimper, tears running down my face. So, it is like we feared. Oh, dear. I don't care much about these unborn, hypothetical children. More for the fact what that means for Peeta's mental health. He obviously hasn't made his peace with this fact.
"I'm so sorry, Peeta," I say, and want nothing more than to wrap my arms around him, but his posture screams 'stay away' so I nervously play with the blanket.
"You have to know this," he continues, "I had to tell you. I know I'm risking our future with this confession. I've only been back for a week, so I think it probably wouldn't destroy me…if…I mean, I survived without you for a year. And before that, I also did….it's just…honestly, this should've been the first thing to tell you when I came back. But you…"
He stops, a sob leaving him.
"You were so sweet. That evening with the cinnamon rolls. And the next day, how you supported me with the bakery. It was like a dream come true. I'm so weak, Katniss. Weak when I'm with you. My knees feel weak, my body boneless. Every fibre of my being wants to be with you. I love you. And now..."
"Peeta," I interrupt reaching out, but he slaps my hand away.
"Sorry," he gasps, and in that word lies more than just a simple apology for that gesture.
"Peeta, I don't care," I say, and the next second do I realize that I really don't.
There is only one thing I'm sure I want in this world: Peeta Mellark, my boy with the bread. Only him. The one I've always wanted. Now, I won't have to share him with some kid. Who cares? More for me.
"You say that now," he interjects, "But in ten years you might think that you'd rather have stayed with Gale and that would destroy me. I can't give you children, Katniss! Think about what that means before you dismiss it that easily. I think we should stop for a second and think hard if continuing…this" he gestures between his torso and mine, avoiding my eyes, "Really would be for the best. For both of us."
"Did you or did you not tell me that you love me, just a few moments ago?" I snap at him, suddenly angry.
His red-rimmed eyes find mine and he nods.
"Then there is no problem," I state. "I'm not going to let you leave a second time. I'm not going to be the one who breaks this up, and I won't allow you to. Not now, not in five, ten or fifteen years. I simply want you. Can't you see? You're all I have ever wanted. Always."
It's true. Peeta sniffles and the first twitch of his lips, a sign of an unsure smile can be seen on his red face. Still, I know this will take a lot of convincing. As if reading my thoughts he starts again.
"Please, let us not rush things. I'll give you as much time to think about this as you need."
I shake my head.
"Think about it, and then what? Decide that I don't want you, after all? It's not gonna happen, Peeta. You're stuck with me, if you like it or not."
"You're not taking this as seriously as you should," he howls in frustration. And then as if an idea has hit him in just that moment he looks me straight in the eyes and says something really weird.
"Let's say, you're okay with the no children part. But what if we…." he blushes, "what if I can't satisfy you? Ever thought of that?"
"Satisfy me? What do you mean?" I don't get it. Wait, is he talking about sex?
"Peeta, we haven't even done a thing yet. How would we know?" I gently ask. What happened to his genitals?
"You're not able to…?" I inquire, trying to understand.
His cheeks are flaming red, eyes almost wild. "Well, no…I mean yes, I am able. But hypothetically speaking. What would you do?"
"Doesn't matter," I retort. "These are two different issues entirely. Let's not mix them up, okay?"
He doesn't answer, pushing his hand into his locks, seemingly trying to think of a way to make me cop out. It won't happen though. Another thought comes to me.
"Peeta, what did the Doctors say, exactly? Did…did you rupture your test..testicles?"
By now, I'm the one who's blushing. I'm the one with the experience and I'm blushing like a schoolgirl when I have to say the word. It's embarrassing.
He looks short of crying again, but I know I won't be able to sleep in peace if we don't talk about this right here, right now. It's not pleasant but it just needs to be done.
He is silent again for a long time and then comes a weak and small, "No."
Once more I wait. I cannot pressure him to tell me these things but tell them, he must. For his sanity and mine.
"No, it wasn't like that," he says slowly. "They found out pretty quickly that everything was….okay. That's why I could've left the hospital after three days. Honestly when I did that to myself I did it unconsciously. I was so angry at you. One moment I'm lost in pleasure, imagining us - doing things - and the next I see you standing there, sneering at me, laughing at me like I'm that pathetic needy dog that follows you around, that little boy who will never get over his crush, who isn't able to move on. All the synapses in my brain went on overdrive and together with the endorphin of the orgasm….I couldn't help it. I felt it coming. I wanted to shock you, hurt you in some way. You didn't leave. And when you came closer the hijacking took over completely. I didn't think of hurting you verbally anymore, no. For the first time since Thirteen I felt threatened by you. Afraid for my life, scared to death. Some part of me was sane enough to realize that I was about to…"
He stops and sighs deeply,
"I was about to kill you, Katniss. I wanted you gone. Destroyed. That small part of me that was still sane knew I had to hurt myself to stop me from attacking you. Well, I had the most sensitive part of myself in my hands. Before I knew what happened I squeezed…"
He shudders, lost in the memory.
"…and it hurt. It brought me back, but I won't lie, it hurt so fucking much. I can still feel the pain sometimes, when I have to pee….but, they told me everything was in order. You know, no after effects."
I look at his pained eyes. So this is the truth. This is it, finally out here in the open. He did it unconsciously to stop himself from hurting me. He probably would've done something different to stop himself if he hadn't been in that horrific position, caught masturbating, thinking of us. What a horrible, fucked up situation and I can't even begin to guess how he ever got over it. I remember the crazy look in his eyes that day. I didn't imagine it, it has been the same look he sported in Thirteen. My poor Peeta.
"But, why…do you think…with the children…and.."
I seemed to have lost the ability to form real sentences after this confession.
"They said everything was okay. But I had trouble. Real trouble afterwards. You know…"
He points to his groin, and I hate that he has to tell this stuff to me. That I need to know this, when it embarrasses my love like this.
"To make a long story short, it didn't work like it did before and…I thought it was because of the drugs I had to take for my leg and the surgeries. But even later, with Dr. Aurelius, it didn't seem to..well, work. I couldn't…I mean, I didn't even know if I wanted to but….they have medical Doctors at Mount Nebel and I didn't understand why I couldn't, when they said physically I was fine, you know…and when I got over…some things…." he cringes. I've never seen him that nervous and uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you absolutely everything, but I'll try to give you the facts you need to know. After some time I managed to….you know. And I had them examine it."
Examine it?
"That's why I told you the story of my parents and the old Mellarks. It has nothing to do with my testicles. It's not poison or hijacking related either. I'm defected. Because of genetics. Because of my family."
"What?"
"Yeah, bummer right?" He laughs, but there is no humor in it.
"But your mother had three children," I whisper.
"Might be the quality of the Cooper sperm," he jokes, but I know that he feels that nothing is funny about it. "My grandfather was the complete opposite."
"So you can't know for sure?"
"I know for sure, Katniss. Don't get your hopes up, it's certain," he says and there is a finality in his tone that I've never heard before. "The quality is bad. It's sad, but that's my reality. I'm like my grandfather."
'But you're grandfather had a child,' I want to argue again but stop myself. I guess he had himself tested and this is the truth. There might be a slight possibility of a baby, but it's so small that it's almost zero. He doesn't want to get my hopes up, but mostly I think he doesn't want to get his own hopes up. I have no idea since when he has this information, but it's not something a man like Peeta, who loves children, will get over in a few months. It'll be tough. I understand why he needed some time to tell me this. He couldn't have done it immediately and now that it's out he wants me to take my time and think about this. Process it.
I shake my head, "At least we won't ever need to use condoms, so I guess there is one upside, right?" I try to crack a joke, but his expression goes injured in an instance and I curse myself. I want to use humor to make this easier on us, but it seems Peeta isn't ready for that.
"You don't get it," he says, "Why don't you understand that this goes deeper than that? I had trouble getting hard for months, Katniss. I couldn't maintain my erections and only recently managed to ejaculate again. Let's ignore my fertility for a second here. Please. You must understand that I'm not some kind of stud. I might never be able to satisfy you physically. I'm….I'll never be able to be a good lover, a true man…"
Peeta continues to ramble and I begin to make a plan in my mind. There is a pattern to Peeta's problems and I'll bet my bow and arrows that this is all in his head. I have to talk to Dr. Aurelius. I hate to talk about sex with others, but this problem needs a professional outlook. What makes it worse are these underlying hints of Gale. Gale and my sexual relationship with him. It's so obvious - Peeta becoming a hunter, Peeta saying he'll disappoint me in bed. I think, in his mind he has constructed it as a fact, that I prefer Gale and I'll only make do with him because he is all I have left. He'll never be a stud, so at least I can have a real man out in the woods.
"You're not even listening," he says and gives me a bit of the fish on a stick. I blow it softly and look back into his eyes.
"Oh, I am listening," I say. "I'm hearing every word you say. But please allow me to make my own decisions, and come to my own conclusions. I will do as you told me. I'll take my time and think about it."
He nods.
"But be prepared, Peeta. Be prepared to be stuck with me. With me, Mellark's bakery, a sexless relationship and no children. I'll think about it, but you have to accept that you can't push me or tell me how I should feel. If I say that I don't care, I mean it. I will be honest with you, but…I know this is hard, considering our history. I won't lie to you. I won't pretend I'm okay when I'm really not. You have to trust me and believe that I mean what I say. I couldn't stand it, if you doubt me."
"Easier said than done," he grumbles and I sigh. Of course, it won't be easy. But we must trust each other. I can't have him doubt me for everything. I wonder if Peeta returned too early? It seems like he still is so insecure. I don't know if I expected him to be confident and fully healed, but I don't think so. I'm glad he returned. I'm glad he wants to be with me. But there are so many problems ahead of us, it's going to be a lot of hard work, building up Peeta's confidence. I take another bite of my fish and lean back. It is tough, but I feel happy despite it all. I've been so lonely these last years, these horrible years without him.
I'm just happy to have him back with me.
We part ways in the Victor's Village, when he walks to his house. My eyes follow his form as he opens the door. He gives me a forced smile, a small wave and then he closes the door behind him. Today must've been so hard for him. All I want is show him support, cuddle, make him forget. But maybe this is the wrong way to handle the situation. Can I make him forget? I turn to my house, taking out the golden key and open my red letter box. I find a letter from Johanna inside. So she answered. I blush when I open it, if I can count on one of my friends to be blunt it is certainly her.
I'm disappointed when I realize she has only written about two pages. Sure, I didn't expect her to write me a sex-manual, but this seems not enough. Isn't seducing an art? I go to my couch and cuddle myself back into my usual nest. Halfway through the letter I'm feeling worse… I never gave it much thought, but it somehow feels like Johanna was insulted by my request.
Considering your problems with Peeta, I'm afraid I won't be of much help. I'm flattered that you think of me as experienced and confident, but Katniss, did you ever consider that this was a front, a protection? That my real self isn't like this? In the Capitol, weakness meant death. You are a survivor type, you know that.
I'm not shy, maybe I'm even a bit of an exhibitionist. Enjoy it, when people admire my naked body. But that doesn't make me an expert on sex or seduction. And, what's more important, Peeta is in love with you. Whatever you do, he'll love it. Don't force yourself to become someone you're not, especially in bed.
Don't rush into a kinky relationship. At least, not yet. Not when he is still in such a bad place.
Did he tell you that he came to visit me in District 7? If not, don't mention it. He's asked me some similar questions about girls and sex. Both of you, you're actually in the same situation. All I can tell you is to be open with each other. Try to follow his wishes and your instinct. If you're having a dead bedroom situation in ten years, I might be able to help you out with some tips to spice it up.
Right now, I'd propose gentle lovemaking is the way to go. Sorry, I can't be more helpful.
She continues to write more about District 7 and ends the letter pretty quickly. I feel ashamed. I assumed that Johanna was an expert on sex. But the Capitol killed her family, she wasn't sold like Finnick and I don't know what she has actually done, how far her experiences go. It's doubtful that she is a virgin, but I've never seen her with a boyfriend. How could I be so insensitive? Just assuming that she knows how to handle a complicated issue like this? Peeta didn't tell me about his visit to Johanna. I'm glad that he has her as a friend, that he obviously trusts her enough to confide in her. Some petty part of me is jealous that he opened up to her when he seems to hold back with me. I try to quench this feeling down as fast as possible, as I know I'm being majorly unfair. Still, I can't help to feel that way. It's still early and I decide to try my luck and call Dr. Aurelius before bed.
The line is busy, but when I call after brushing my teeth and cleaning up before bed, he answers after a few rings.
"Katniss," he greets, good-naturedly, "How splendid to hear from you."
I roll my eyes.
"You've just finished talking to Peeta, haven't you?" I ask.
"Correct," he answers, "You had a long talk today, and I think you both are very exhausted."
"Can I ask you a few questions?" I cut to the case.
"Sure," he says, "But don't expect me to answer. Peeta is my patient, and he trusts me. I can try to help you out, ask away."
He doesn't have to tell me this. I know, Dr. Aurelius never revealed much. He didn't interfere with our relationship, not once. Some pain might've been avoided but I'm glad. Peeta trusts him and so do I. I wouldn't like it if he told Peeta about my treatment.
"Might be we need couple counseling," I add and he laughs.
"I think it is a bit too early for that. Build a relationship first. And if you're having problems then call me." This reminds me of Johanna and the dead bedroom situation and I must admit, she is not as bad as she believes in giving advice.
"Peeta told me that he won't be able to father children," I say and hesitate. I don't want to ask if that's the truth, as I believe him. But what did the Doctors actually find out?
"And that's the truth," Dr. Aurelius says, "In his mind. At this moment. I would strongly suggest that you try to come to terms with this and accept it. Thing is, it is not impossible for him, not as bleak as he thinks. But hope is a fickle friend. It's better to believe this and be pleasantly surprised one day, instead of always hoping and be bitterly disappointed."
I nod.
"He doesn't believe me when I say that it doesn't matter to me," I whisper.
"That's his prerogative," the doctor says, "He is very perceptive. Do you really not care? Or do you not care right now? He is afraid you won't feel this way ten years into the relationship. He is in it for the long haul and he hopes you are, too."
"I am," I say, "But honestly, how can I persuade him? Can make him see? I don't know what I'll feel or think in ten years time or what kind of woman I am when I'm in my thirties. I can't look into the future, Dr. Aurelius."
"That's true," he says, "There is no solution. You have the facts and you accept them. You can live with it. That's all Peeta can ask for. This is something he has to come to terms with himself first. He must learn to live with it and he is not quite there yet."
"Oh," I answer, "Why did you let him leave if he isn't quite there yet? I must be honest, Dr. Aurelius. There are certain things that worry me. His leg and that he sold the bakery. His new-found interest in hunting. And…well, he is so hesitant and told me things…" I stop myself, but then reconsider. This is Dr. Aurelius. He knows it all.
"When I try to initiate kissing or touching he flinches away. He told me he isn't some stud, that he will disappoint me in bed. I'm afraid he won't even try. And if he does one day and things don't go the way he wants them too, that he'll have his confirmation."
As soon as I say it I know this is the truth. I can see it all too clearly. Peeta and me in bed together, him being too nervous to get hard and shutting down completely.
"All understandable predictions, Katniss," he says. "But that's all they are. Predictions. You're working yourself into a frenzy and worry about problems that have yet to happen."
He's right, of course. But I can't help but worry anyway.
"As to why we decided to let him leave, I can tell you this. One can only get so far with treatment in an institution. He had to get back, get back to Twelve. He didn't feel ready, but I told him it was time. Time to face you, time to start living again. He disagreed. I didn't quite throw him out, but he had to go."
He pauses. I'm sure there is more to this, but Dr. Aurelius is actually quite open with me so I shut down my curiosity and decide not to pry.
"Peeta felt betrayed. He wanted to stay. If I hadn't urged him he would have stayed and would be here still. After he left he went to visit a few old friends. And new ones he made here, in the Capitol. That trip helped him to finally return. To you."
Yes, Peeta visited Delly and Johanna and maybe others I don't know about. So that's what he did after he left Mount Nebel. Dr. Aurelius doesn't react to my hesitant hints concerning sex. I don't know how to be more blunt about it, so I let it be.
"Thank you for helping us out so much," I say anyway. The poor man must spend half of his time on the phone with us.
"I told you, it's an honor," he says, and his voice is strict. "I want you to get better." We stay silent for a while and I guess he wants to hang up, but then he speaks up again.
"What's happening with the bakery?" he asks.
"We don't know yet," I answer sadly. I can hardly accept that the bakery is not his anymore and this is grating on me.
"What do you want to happen?" he asks, voice gentle this time.
"I…" I gasp and feel wetness in my eyelashes. Why am I crying?
"I want it to be ours," I admit, "Peeta worked hard for so long and it was tough for me, that last year. I don't want to be a full-time baker, but I think I could…we could be happy. Building a life…" Small sobs leave me and I'm surprised at myself. I love the bakery. It's my home. And Peeta. I want it back, I want it all to be ours.
"What do you think Peeta wants?" Dr. Aurelius asks.
"I have no idea," I sniffle, "He is not a bad hunter." What I don't say is that I don't want to spent the rest of our lifes in the woods. I still love to hunt. But I also love to bake. I want both activities to be a part of our life. I don't want the situation to stay the same.
"I won't tell you what to do, as I don't tell Peeta what to do. But I think you should try to get it back, Katniss. I don't know what you're financial situation is like now, but I think it is okay to be selfish and use your fame for this."
"Oh?" I say, surprised. "You think so?"
"It's obvious how much this place means to you. And it means the same to Peeta. Don't let him fool you. I don't have to tell you, you know him better. But he is skilled when it comes to lying. This is a case of lying to protect himself. His heart and his mind are in two different places, torn. He will continue telling you he doesn't care. But he does. Do you understand?"
Dr. Aurelius seldom tells me exactly what to do. I can feel it, this is important. The bakery is important. And Dr. Aurelius just helped me with the situation. He couldn't have been more obvious without outright saying it. Peeta was forced to make a horrible choice. Leg or bakery. Being aware of his mother's situation it might be possible that he forced himself to become a hunter. He didn't want to obsess like she did, didn't want to make the bakery priority and didn't want to admit that he loves this place with all his heart. I nod to myself.
"I know what I have to do," I thank him, "I guess, I'll never stop with the thanks, but thank you for being so honest."
"It's what I'm here for," he answers. "There is no right or wrong. There is no black and white. Life is full of decisions that have no correct answer. It's only possible to move forward, no regrets. What I just told you is what I think you should do. I can give no guarantees."
"I don't need them," I say, confidently, "I've made it this far without a safety net, I'm sure I can handle this."
"That's good," he laughs, "You're strong. Stronger than most. You can do it."
"Thank you," I whisper and we say goodbye.
Feeling better, much better. Does Peeta also feel better after a talk with the Doctor? He has a way of building up my confidence and that's no easy task. When I crawl into bed that night I'm mentally planning on how to proceed concerning the bakery. Dr. Aurelius told me to use my fame. And I will. I'm still the Mockingjay, all of Panem knows my name. I'm not able to leave the District, but I could write to Plutarch. Or to that ominous Bank of Panem. Or to the Doctors who took Peeta's money. Hell, I could give an interview or write a book. There are many ways to get money and the bakery back. And I swear I will find a way.
During the next days I'm quite busy with letter writing. It reminds me of the days when I wrote to the government daily, trying to get out of District 12. I'm counting on my old pals, Plutarch or Paylor. I'm sure there is guilty conscience when it comes to the way they acted during the trial. I know a lot about the revolution, they probably wouldn't want the world to know. I could come forward. As Paylor said, Panem is a democracy now. Free speech is possible and boy, when it comes to the injustice of Peeta's situation I don't even have problems with blackmail or putting myself out there.
I also write to Effie, an embarrassing letter in which I ask for some advice about sexuality. I don't believe that Effie is more experienced than Johanna, I don't really think of her as an sexual being at all. But the Capitol has always been so advanced. They have the greatest books about all sorts of topics, not only baking. I loved every book that Effie sent so far. In a place like the Capitol, people weren't only stupid and brainless lovers of morbid entertainment. Scientific research happened there, the Capitol was home to Panem's biggest university. I'm sure there are books that can help me with matters of the human body.
Honestly, I need all the help I can get. In the following weeks me and Peeta spend a huge amount of time together. We work in the bakery, we go hunting, we play board games in my house. While he seems to relax more and more around me during these weeks, he gets stiff as a board whenever I try to hug him or lean in for a kiss. He doesn't flinch away or tell me to stop, but he's not enjoying himself. We're taking baby steps and I try to be patient. When I ask him about it, he only says he is sorry and that he doesn't know why he is like this. When I hesitantly ask if he wants to sleep in my bed again, one evening, after a long game of chess, his ears turn red and he shakes his head. I don't dare to mention sex, afraid that he starts running as soon as I say the word. While he was relatively open with me during the first week he returned, I'm actually feeling like we're going backwards now.
I'm at my wits end when I walk back from choir practice one evening in early fall. I don't understand why Peeta doesn't crave intimacy. I'm constantly horny, but I can live without sex, that's not the problem. But I want to snuggle up, nuzzle his hair, touch him, kiss him, feel close. But I'm so afraid of scaring him that my feeble attempts get less and less in frequency. And then he starts to get this look in his eyes, when I don't touch him. Disappointment. Anxiousness. No matter what I do, it seems to be the wrong thing. It's driving me crazy.
When I turn the corner I almost run into Dr. Leger on the street corner on the road to the bakery.
We laugh awkwardly and then proceed to go our own way when I suddenly realize that she is the person I need.
She's female, she's a doctor, she knows all about our situation. I fly back around.
"Dr. Leger," I yell, and then curse myself. We're at first name basis since a few weeks ago, when we had dinner and too much wine after Haymitch left for bed. "Ermengarde?"
"Yes?" She smiles at me, her green eyes twinkling.
"Is Haymitch home?" Home being her house in town, the house where her practice is.
She shakes her head, "No, he is working. I don't know if he's coming back tonight."
"Do you have some time? I need…I need to talk to someone."
She nods, "Sure. Let's go." We go back to her house which is located next to the square, a short walk away. She rushes me in and begins to boil water for peppermint tea, while I sit down at her beautiful kitchen table watching her work. Her home is cozy, and despite it also being a doctor's practice I feel relatively at ease.
"So," she says gently, sitting on the other side of the table, pushing a red lock behind her ear and looking at me curiously, "What is it that you want to talk about?"
Nervously I sip at my tea, looking into the dark liquid, which mirrors my pink cheeks. 'Get over it, Everdeen', I think and cough. I look up at her and press it out quickly, since I might lose my courage otherwise.
"Sex," I say, "I want to talk about sex."