A/N: This is it, folks. The last chapter. Thank you so much for sticking with me. The epilogue will probably be up tomorrow. Hope you enjoy conclusion!
If I had known then what I know now, maybe I wouldn't have taken so much time to arrive back home. Everyone who didn't live there was gone. I climbed the stairs, truly exhausted, and found Primrose slumped against the bottom of my door, waiting in the hallway for me. I smiled down at her and helped her up. She hugged me and pulled me into my room. We didn't talk much, both a little worded out from the day. Instead, we decided on a game of chess. Eventually, though, we got bored of the way we predicted each others moves, making it impossible to get anywhere. We laughed a little, and I laid down on the floor. It wasn't long before she was laying with her head on my stomach, like she did when we were little. I played with her hair, remembering yet again how much I'd missed having her around. "How much do you remember before we moved in here?" I asked a while later.
I felt her move to look at me. "Not a lot. More from what you've told me than anything else."
Propping myself up on one elbow, so as not to aggravate the one that was now home to a bruise the size of a grapefruit. "So, do you remember the Kool-Aid sale the night Haymitch found us?"
She wavered a bit. I could sense that she remembered a little, but was trying to sort out what she actually remembered of her own volition. Finally, she settled on a "Sort of?"
"Do you remember the first money we got?" I prompted.
She nodded. "Yeah, it was Chaff, I think. And then he told Haymitch..."
"No, no, before him," I said. Maybe I'd been imagining it after all.
"Then, no," she concluded.
I guess it was better to not know. "Alright," I said, returning to my flattened position.
"What's this about, Katniss?"
Focused on the ceiling, I decided I might as well tell her. "Do you remember what I said about Peeta always being in my periphery?" I could feel her nod against me, so I continued. "Well, he said something the tonight, about scars from his mom."
"Yeah, she's..." Prim affirmed, not knowing how to phrase it. She tried desperately not to paint anyone in a bad light, no matter how much they deserved it, so she decided on a watery "not a very nice person."
That much I'd gathered. "I know. But, before Chaff, there was this woman with three little boys. I remember recognizing the oldest one. He was my age," I said, musing over the boys faces, "then there was one that reminded me of you and one in the middle. Is that the right ages for Peeta's brothers? Do you know?"
"I think so," she said, unsure. In all the time we spent together, I hadn't bothered to ask.
"Well, she hit the oldest and the youngest, the older for giving the little one money and the youngest for trying to talk to us. I just... I've never forgotten the little boy's eyes." I zeroed in on a speck of dust in the corner of the room and spoke to it, not sure if I wanted to hear Prim's thoughts on it after all. I guess, now, that my aversion to it meant that my mind was made up about it after all. "And the other night, we were in his gallery, and I looked at Peeta and, I saw them again." Yes, it was definitely him.
She sat up and turned to face me, tucking her knees to her chest. "Do you think that, maybe, you're projecting?" I knew she was going to go here. She cocked her head to one side, and explained, "You're seeing Peeta as some sort of savior, like you do if that's how you remember the turning of events that led to life getting better for us?"
"I don't know," I lied, knowing well that that wasn't it at all. "Maybe..." I climbed up into my bed and, instead of going back to her room, she climbed in with me.
Two adult women sharing a twin sized bed doesn't exactly promote a good night's sleep. I was already up, thinking about how I was going to explain to Peeta that I wanted to keep doing the dance, but we couldn't be a part of the bet, when Haymitch's voice boomed up the stairs. "Katniss, you have company. Come down here, please." I climbed carefully over Prim, not wanting to wake her, and headed downstairs, curious as to who could possibly be down there for me.
I'd just about convinced myself that it was a trick, when I saw him on the couch. "Peeta," I breathed.
He looked wracked with guilt. I studied him carefully as he spoke. "So, I wasn't gonna bother you about this anymore. But I thought you'd like to know..." He hesitated, looking up at Effie, who gave him a comforting nod beside Haymitch's 'go on' gesture they thought I couldn't see. "I talked to Gale. He said he already bought a ticket for the competition. He's gonna be there. He wants to see you. This is your shot. I know you don't want to-"
Lies. Lies, lies, lies. Part of me wanted to hear what story the three of them had cooked up. But he looked so sweet and upset by the fact that he was saying it, I felt obligated to help him out of it before he dug himself in deeper. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted me too. So I interrupted, "No, I was gonna come see you anyway. I do want to. Fuck the bet. We've been working really hard, you know?" I smiled warmly at him, which seemed to make him more uncomfortable. "If he loses the bet that I fought him tooth and nail not to be a part of, that's on his head, not either of ours." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Haymitch's disappointment. "We'll get kick ass scores, but we'll do it for us." No, not us. "For you. You want this, don't you?" I asked.
"What about Gale?" he asked, disappointed.
I wanted to tell him then. I wanted to say 'fuck him and the horse he rode out on' but I decided watching him squirm for the next couple weeks, only to relieve him of it would be more satisfying. "Yeah, of course. That makes it all even better. Perfect, even." I embellished.
"So you'll do it?" Haymitch asked from behind me.
Not even bothering to give him a glance, I kept my eyes trained on Peeta. "Absolutely." That was the first of the times I almost told him I knew.
The next morning, I jogged into the gallery. Peeta hardly looked up. "You ready?"
"Yeah. Sorry I'm late," I said, smiling at him. That morning,
His expression was abnormally dark. "It's cool," he said, turning away from me and getting the music set.
And I almost told him I knew.
The days progressed toward the 28th. We'd come so far, and even with the amount of guilt Peeta seemed to be putting himself under, we were nailing the big move every time. I was starting to feel really confident.
On one of our breaks, as we stretched out tired muscles, he turned to me. "So, are you really not worried about the bet?" he asked.
I took a sip of my water. The bet, right. "Of course I'm worried. It's bullshit that he forced us into it like this, but I mean... the bar's something he really wants. And I guess it means we have to save him from himself." I stood up and crossed to where he stood. "And it sucks that you got roped into it, too. It's stupid and it's toxic and I'm really pissed about it and I believe that he needs to know that... But it's who he is and I can't spite him for it. And, to be honest, even if we win, there's no promising that the ball game is gonna go his way, so it might not even matter." Peeta seemed a little dejected by this. I took a deep, steadying breath and took his strong hands in mine. "I say we do this our way, do it well, and have a blast and even if it doesn't go our way, we have no regrets."
I looked up into his eyes and saw no trace of lightness in them. It was almost as if this lie was taking him away from me. "No regrets?" he asked me skeptically.
"None," I confirmed, smiling as surely as I could.
He held on a little longer than I'd expected him to. "You think we're gonna win this," he said, more to himself than to me.
With a nod, I said the only thing that came to mind. "Real." That much was true. Call it woman's intuition, call it blind faith, call it gut instinct, but I really thought we'd do it.
And I almost told him I knew.
The 28th rolled around. We ate dinner at my place with Haymitch, Effie, and Prim, drinking a toast to our impending prosperity. Peeta and I went up to my room for a little bit to run through it one more time and then get dressed. He wanted to go get changed in the bathroom. I insisted that he stay with me, teasing him that I didn't want him to chicken out on me.
Partially, too, I was testing him. I wanted to see if he still had any glint of the interest he'd shown in me prior to this massive fiasco. When I stripped down to my underwear, his subtle and ashamed stare encouraged me. I slipped on the off white white pants and crop top with lightly rainbowed sequins that Prim and I had settled on, with a shirt the same color and suspenders and bow-tie that matched the accents. As Peeta busied himself on the bowtie, I took the time to rather less subtly stare at him. "This isn't working," he said, growing angry at himself for small things. "Stupid," he hissed when his next attempt came out looking more like apron strings than a bow tie. "Fuck it." He stopped fidgeting with it and rubbed his temples.
"Come here, let me," I said. Now, I didn't know how to tie a bow tie either, but what I did know was how to fasten a safety pin and I knew how attractive bow ties looked untied. I grabbed a few out of my night table drawer and beckoned him to me. "Come on, everything's gonna be great," I coaxed, undoing his top 3 buttons and flattening out the small strip of fabric, then sliding my hands under his shirt, picking a few key points to attach it. "You guys said Gale's gonna be there, right?" I teased, knowing how horribly he felt. Still, he nodded. "So it's meant to be. Everything'll be alright." He seemed so deeply pained at the situation that I almost felt bad taking the piss out of him. But, he kind of deserved it. He closed his eyes and we both stood up, surveying each other one last time. "You okay? Don't get all wobbly on me. I don't think we can handle a drop," I winked, knowing that he would never drop me.
"I'm not," he answered, taking my outstretched hands.
I hugged him tightly, "We have a dance to do, a bet to win, a marriage to save- we gotta stay focused." I patted him on the chest, playing up the absent minded card a little too much. I picked up my dance shoes, which I'd cleverly attached together with a carabiner looped through a scarf, and handed them to Peeta to hold while I threw my coat on and grabbed an envelope off my bedside table, shoving it in my pocket for later.
He opened the door and waved me out into the hallway ahead of him. When I looked back, he seemed so hurt. I regretted how thickly I'd been laying it on and decided to tone it down a little for the rest of the night.
And I almost told him I knew.
We reached the Flickerman and immediately found that I'd been right. We were way out of our depth. Even so, I couldn't have expected this.
A man and woman were working on a foxtrot in the center of the lobby and I couldn't help but get distracted at their practiced synchronicity. "Wow," I cooed, staring open mouthed.
"Shit," Peeta hissed, pulling my attention to another couple working out what I recognized as an Argentine Tango from one of the youtube videos Peeta'd shown me a while back. If I were in less control of myself and my faculties, I'd have been worried about drooling, or perhaps reaching out to touch. Grabbing my hand, my partner dragged me along to the bar, where the ball game was playing and Haymitch had already made a beeline for it.
He called out to the familiar face in the crowd. "Chaff, what do we got?"
"Tied up with another field goal. 3-3." he answered, snaking his way out of the mass of people.
"I'm worried," Prim said flatly.
Haymitch remained unmoved. "Don't be."
She shrugged him off. "I'm gonna worry, no matter what." And that was certainly a fair stance.
Noticing the pairs that had begun to work around us, Haymitch let out a soft "Hoo-ly Shit. What is this? Dancing with the stars or something?" He reached out for Effie, pulling her closer.
"You knew that, dear," she answered. "Maybe you should have listened to Katniss," she suggested lamely, taking Prim by the hand and going to take their seats in the ballroom.
"Look at these dancers!" Chaff laughed. He landed a smack on Haymitch's arm and added, "You know, you could just give me the money now, save us all the trouble."
He ignored him and turned to me. "Katniss. Katniss, all we have to do is get you a five. That's all. No big deal." Peeta and I both nodded, turning for the stairs to the sign-in table. "Stay here and watch the game with us," he said.
"The Birds do better when Katniss is with me," Peeta growled. He had no time for Haymitch anymore, and I didn't really blame him. "We've settled this."
"Stay for the quarter. Please?" he asked, pathetically.
I reached out my free hand for his steadily. "Relax, alright. It'll work out. I'll see you in there." And with that, we turned away.
We didn't get far before we were greeted by Johanna, her date, Dr. Aurelius and a woman I assumed to be his wife. "Hey, brainless! And sexy man meat dance partner," Johanna
"Hey," I answered, hugging her, shaking the two strangers' hands, and receiving a kiss on the cheek from my therapist. "Alright, wish us luck, guys," I prompted, crossing my fingers at them, then dropping my hand down to my side, lacing my hand back together with Peeta's.
"Keep it up, you two!" the doctor called at us.
"What's this?" I asked, swinging our hands up between us playfully as we climbed the stairs.
Even the acknowledgement of our bordering on intimate gesture didn't seem to cheer him up. "I don't know. I thought you were doing it," he answered flippantly.
"No, I thought you were," I laughed, insinuating that it just happened. He tried to tug himself away, but I clamped down a little harder. "What difference does it make. We're gonna have our hands in a whole lot more indelicate places in a little bit anyway. No harm, right," I smiled turning him back to face me. As soon as I did, he seemed to get more upset. I grabbed his other hand and asked him quietly, concerned, "You okay?"
"Fuck," he cursed looking past me, down the stairs, then back into my eyes. He shook his right hand free of me and raised it to my jaw, face suddenly very serious. Still, as he spoke, he softened. "Okay, I want you to remember everything. All of the good stuff we have here." He smiled for the first time in days.
"Of course," I nodded. And I almost told him I knew.
He directed me over to the table and said, "Why don't you check in? I have to go find Annie and Finnick." Without so much as a hesitation, he was off, back down the stairs.
"Alright. Tell them I said 'hi.'" I called, to no avail. When I reached the person at the table, I greeted them. "Hi! Checking in. Everdeen and Mellark. How many teams are there total?" I asked idly. It was a bit odd to be here without him next to me. I didn't really know what to do. This was his thing.
Not sure where to wait, if not in the ballroom, that's where I went. I stood against the wall sliding off my flats and putting on my dance shoes. "Team of Cinna and Portia, up on deck," a man with bright blue hair said enthusiastically. That just had to be Cesar Flickerman. I laughed to myself, wondering if he realized just how out of place he looked.
As the judges readied their cards for the pair next to the announcer, my breath stilled in my chest. She was so tiny and he was so big, he could have danced her around without her ever touching the floor. I'd have bet they had no problem with lifts. "And the scores for Thresh and Rue are: seven point six, seven point three, six point nine, and seven point four for an average score of seven point three." A seven point three? Holy shit. That's not much more than what we needed to win. If people who seemed like they had their shit together were getting low sevens and I didn't even know where my partner went, that couldn't bode well for us. "Now, coming to you from our dance floor, I present to you, Cinna and Portia-" The man drewd out their names ridiculously, making them sound like luscious game show products.
Then, they appeared- The Argentine Tango couple from the lobby. Yet, that wasn't the dance they were doing? Why would they do that? To psyche people out? Either way, they were doing a dance in 3/4 time that looked like something out of a Disney movie. I suddenly felt ashamed of the outfits we'd picked for Peeta and myself. Sure, we looked good- hot, even- and had age on our side compared to these two, but... wow. I found myself wondering if they'd had those outfits custom made by mice or something.
Snapping myself out of my line of thought, I remembered that I still hadn't found my own partner. I crossed to the table where Effie and my sister were seated and asked "Have you seen Peeta?"
"No, why? He's not with you?" Prim asked, startled. "Where is he?"
"You have to go find him, dear." Effie said, jerking her head not-so-subtly in the direction of a table across the floor where sat Finnick and Annie... and Gale. My heart pounded. Was that why he'd taken off? I know they hadn't really planned on him being here, so what was the deal?
"I know. I know," I said, taking off to pace the room looking for him. He couldn't have just skipped out, could he? Where could he have gone? I thought about it and then saw him, perched on a stool at the bar with some sneaky looking redhead. "Hey, what's this?" I asked, draping myself on him a little possessively.
The woman spoke, calmly but firmly. "He's fine. He's with me," she purred
I stood up, eyebrows arched, taking the stance of someone on a crappy reality show about to rip someone's earring off. "He's fine?" I snapped.
She smiled at me, unaware of how close she was to no longer having those pearly whites. "Yeah."
Returning the smile, I queued up my most venomous tone, Why don't you shut up, alright?" I turned my attention back to him. "How many drinks have you had?"
"Two," he said, a little more teenage-angst in his tone than I'd have appreciated, but it wasn't the time to argue over that.
Grabbing him by the wrist, I dragged him out of the bar. "Come on, Peeta. Listen, I don't know what choices you've made, but you gotta deal with it right now, okay? We're in this. But, you're lucky," I said with a smile I meant to be warm and sincere, "because we're in this together."
"Next up, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark," came the sickeningly cheesy voice of the emcee. We walked to the edge of the floor.
When we got there, he turned to me. I suddenly came to the realization that two drinks was more than enough for him. "You know, I used to think you were the best thing that could ever happen to me. I used to worship the ground you walked on. Even before that, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. Now, now I think you may be the worst thing and I'm sorry I ever threw those coins into that fucking coffee can." I smiled at him, which seemed to make him angrier. But he didn't know that he'd just confirmed what I already thought I knew. It was him. "I never thought anyone could make me wish for physical pain over emotional. I hate you. I don't ever want to see you again.
"Not real." That was the last time and closest I came to telling him I knew. I remembered that we had more important things at hand. And I was pissed at him for putting us in a delicate position here. "But, good for you... I'll let you think that for a minute, then we have to do this thing.
"And the scores for Portia and Cinna are: six point seven, eight point one, six point five and seven point five for an average score of seven point two." Though I'd been paying more attention to Peeta, I did notice that those scores were really low for what I thought they'd deserved. Especially from the third judge. She was going to be the one to make or break us.
Next to me, I noticed, Peeta having some trouble doffing his jacket. I grabbed for it, and when he protested, I said, "No, I've got it." It came off swiftly and I tossed it at Haymitch, who'd just burst in the door.
"Up next, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark." Thankfully, Cesar didn't turn our names into anything more than names. The crowd cheered for us, a little more than enthusiastically from a certain table. I tugged Peeta out on to the floor playfully, just as we'd planned.
When the crowd died down, in the space before the music started, I heard Johanna call out, crystal clear. "Let's go, Brainless!" People around her must have given her discerning looks, because it was followed by an innocent, "What?"
While we waited for the music, I could see Peeta's anger softening. I quirked my head, almost imperceptibly, and gave a crooked smile.
The music led in with a slight drum beat with simple piano. I arched my back and, holding our frame, Peeta dipped me back dramatically. I'd been against this, for our first move, but he swore it was a great way to give us a prep period before we actually started moving, plus people loved watching the female dancers' hair drag around. When the rest of the instruments kicked in, I was back upright. Lifting my arms above my head, he twisted me around and back to where we started. I crooked my leg around his and dropped to the floor, dragging it up between his and circling back around him, bringing our arms back up to their L-shape forcefully.
We moved in around the floor, travelling with the simple cha-cha step he'd taught me the first day we danced together as the singer started crooning. We punctuated every couple of steps with a flourish, winding up side by side with our arms extended dramatically. We returned to the travelling step, this time, ending with Peeta pulling me on my toes toward him, eventually bringing me to rest on the toes of my right foot, bending my left leg up over his hip. He looked down at me with a playful smile and braced me to him with one strong hand under my rear end and spun us around more gracefully than he'd ever done before. When he put me down, we pushed away from each other in one controlled movement before he twisted his arms, bringing my back to rest against his chest. We swayed left and right together, my hands travelling up into his hair. When I closed my eyes, we were back in the dimly lit gallery, alone. That image put me at ease. He brought his right hand up to meet mine and, followed me in a playful chase around the ballroom before I spun around gyrating my hips. He reached for my hands, snapping our bodies back together, and slid his hands back to my hips, as I punctuated the air at varying angles along with the brass instrumentation.
The audience gasped as the music snapped to a strong electric rock. In a stroke of genius, on Peeta's part, we'd decided to cut together a few songs because we couldn't decide on one style. This song allowed for much more freedom, and we both really enjoyed dancing to it. We jumped up into the air and thrashed our heads around, as if at a concert, before deviating into a rigid ballroom dance I remembered him calling a quickstep. Our backs were straight and our arms locked as we circled the room elegantly. When the singer started his count, without losing our upper bodies' positions, we jumped toward and away from each other, in what probably looked like a really intense round of couples Skip-It. Tucking me under his arm, I circled around Peeta. Then we moved next to each other in a jumpy cross step, ending it with a heel click. Into a different style, we faced each other, my hands over his, we stomped mirroring feet and shook them up before switching and doing so with the alternate. When we worked on this "jive" step, and I'd finished laughing at Peeta's hokey slang, it had almost all come to a devastating halt with a poorly placed shot between his legs. I paid more attention and didn't make the same mistake again. When we finished, he grabbed my hands and swung me through his legs. I rolled onto my side and swung my leg up over my head, which had started out as a joke but he decided it was 'really good' and definitely worth keeping in- which I figured meant he wanted me to keep doing it, and he grabbed my ankle and made sweeping guitar like movements against it, both of our tongues flopping out in a "hard rock" type expression. He pulled me up and spun me around rapidly, before we resumed our earlier frame and darted around the room. With a half turn, I dropped back, kicking my leg up as high as I could and Peeta elevated me back to standing. I darted around him playfully and he grabbed my waist, folding me into another comfortable, and all-too-intimate-for-in-front-of-people back to front pose.
Another change in the music saw a change into a sweeping instrumental version of an 80's rock song. We waltzed for a few measures, our faces close together, circling the floor gracefully in stark contrast to the previous section. He pushed me away, swaying together for a moment, arms moving dramatically over our heads. He held my hand and spun me tight. Then, I draped my arms around his neck, swinging one leg up the side of him, then bringing the other to meet it, bringing them back down, and back into our default step. We looked into each other's eyes assuringly, though my stomach was in knots. When he let go of me this time, that would be it. The big move. Our arms dropped and I turned away, spinning to my corner. Peeta backed to his. We took a moment to brace ourselves. As the music swelled, I took off running toward him.
But it didn't work. Not like we'd planned. Either I didn't jump high enough, or Peeta didn't get down low enough, but what was supposed to be something like a straddle in the air became much more... sexual, through our blunder. I crooked my leg over his shoulder, trying to maintain some chance of a decent score. Everything had been going so well and we blew it on the big move. Haymitch's bar. The whole bet. My chance with Peeta- he'd never speak to me again. You could hear audible gasps as Peeta struggled to figure out how to get me down. After what seemed like forever, we managed to slide my dangling foot close enough to the ground that I could swing the other back down. He dipped me backwards again, resting his forehead on my chest, long enough to find our spot in the music. He coached me into the barrel roll from there, both of us spinning backwards. Then we finished with the standard jerky two hits into a dip.
When the music faded out, we walked tentatively to the stage next to Cesar. Our only hope was that they might judge the newcomers and amateurs a little more leniently, especially if they took into account how ambitious the move we failed at was. But that was a pipe dream. I mentally prepared a long apology to Haymitch, and another to Peeta, who still hadn't let go of my hand.
Mr. Flickerman spoke from next to me. "Alright, then, let's see those scores. A four point two, a four point nine, a six point three, and a four point seven for a total score of five point zero." There was a polite smattering of applause, but nothing too noticeable. A five.
"Holy shit," I breathed, looking up at Peeta, unsure if I'd heard him right.
"That's a tough blow, guys, I'm sorry," spoke the previous male dancer from behind us, Cinna.
From the crowd, the first audible voice wasn't a cheer. It was an angry Chaff. "Oh, come on," he yelled.
I let out a piercing scream and threw myself at Peeta, who carried me over to where our little section was now standing, cheering.
"HAYMITCH!" I screeched. "Did the Birds win?"
"Mockingjays won 44-6," He cheered, kissing me atop the head.
"Come on!" Chaff yelled again, throwing his napkin down on the table.
Peeta put me down to hug me close. "We did it," he said, over and over.
Baffled, Cesar addressed the crowd. "It seems that they're ecstatic about a five. Who'd've thunk, huh? We'll take a 10 minute break." The room began to break off into spontaneous chatter, with some confused looks from the people around us.
"Thank you, Katniss. You're amazing," he said, blue eyes sparkling again.
I shook my head, emphasizing my own, "Thank you." I debated kissing him, but instead decided to go for a hug, knowing that there was one last thing I had to take care of before telling him everything.
"Of course," he said, sweetly. "I told you I wouldn't drop you."
We both laughed, capable of acknowledging the blunder now that we were on the other side of it, safe from the repercussions. "It seemed close for a second there." I swatted at him playfully. Then, it happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Finnick, Annie, and Gale stand up at their table. I pressed my palm flat against Peeta's chest and looked back at him sadly. I walked over to the three of them hugged Finnick and gave Annie one of those awkward half handshake clutches. Then, they walked off, leaving me standing alone with my husband for the first time in nearly a year. "Thank you for coming," I said. "How are you?"
"Doing well, Catnip," he said, pulling me into a polite hug.
I pulled back, unsure if this was some sort of set up. I shook the thought away, "Is this okay?" I didn't want to mention that hearing his old pet name for me made my stomach churn, but it really did.
"How are you?" he asked.
"Really, really good, thanks," I affirmed.
He smiled, looking me over. "You look good. You look happy."
It was true. I was happy; the happiest I'd been in a long time, just as soon as I could get this over with. "Yeah. Dancing, huh? Who knew, right?" I shrugged.
"You look incredible," he said, incapable of taking his eyes off me. Suddenly, I was more than a little uncomfortable in what I was wearing.
"Thanks," I said, draping my arms across my bare stomach.
He nodded, finally looking up at my eyes. "You've been taking care of yourself," was all he could manage.
This was it. I had my opening and I had to take it. "Yeah. I'm on medication, I'm in therapy, I've been reading your books, I have a positive attitude now." I took a breath and leaned in a little closer, hoping not to have anyone overhear us. My voice was hardly above a whisper, so I positioned myself right next to his ear. "And I realized that we were never meant to work out. I'm not in love you anymore and I really hope that you're okay with that. I hope you find someone who you don't have to change to be with. Someone who makes you as happy as Peeta makes me." He turned his head to me slightly, a strange smile on his face. "I have a meeting with my lawyer on the 3rd. Let's not make this any worse than it has to be." I finished. He nodded, leaning down and kissing me on the cheek, before turning and walking away. I watched him go. I can't explain to you the intense feeling of relief when you're finally free from the ties that bind. I turned on my heel, smiling broadly and crossed to where I'd left Peeta. But he wasn't there.
Haymitch, Effie, Chaff, Prim, Johanna, Dr. Aurelius and their dates were standing in a small circle by our table, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Peeta?" I asked, hoping he went to the bathroom, or to get a drink while I undid the buckles on my shoes and stepped out of them. It had to just be something little and dumb and he'd be right back.
No such luck. "Gone," Haymitch said, accenting it with an expression that could have meant nothing but 'Duh.'
Still, I needed clarification. "What do you mean gone? He left?" I backed away nervously.
"He left! What did you think would happen, sweetheart?" he exclaimed.
How could I have been so stupid to think that he wouldn't see me walk right over to Gale. That was what he'd expected me to do, and now I'd flat out gone and done it. He was gone and I wasn't going to get my chance to tell him how I felt. "Where is he?" I asked, turning in a quick circle.
"Look," Haymitch said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me over to the side, away from everyone else. "I know I've fucked up in the past. I know you don't want to listen to me. I didn't want to listen to anyone when I was your age either, but I'm telling you. You gotta pay attention. When you get handed something like this, like this thing you got with Peeta, it's a sin if you don't reach out and take it. It'll haunt you for the rest of your days, sweetheart." I nodded. He didn't need to tell me. "You're at a crossroads right now. That boy out there loves you for you." He gestured at the doors Peeta had, presumably, walked out of. Knowing that, in recent days, he liked him a whole hell of a lot more than me, I readied myself for a long winded lecture on my shortcomings. To my surprise, that wasn't the case. "And you deserve that. He doesn't want anything from you. He doesn't want to change you. And I don't know if that was ever the case with Gale. But it's sure as hell not the case right now." Tears welled in my eyes, as he spoke. I needed to chase him down, but I couldn't bring myself to interrupt Haymitch. "I'm telling you. Don't fuck this up. I know you." My breath hitched in my chest. "You won't be able to live with yourself."
I smiled. I guessed, after everything that happened, he really wasn't mad at me anymore. "I love you, Haymitch," I said, pulling him into a tight hug.
"I love you too, sweetheart," he said, patting the top of my head. When we broke apart, he grabbed Peeta's jacket and mine from a chair and thrust them at me, sending me off with a commanding "Go."
Like something out of a fairytale, I burst through the ballroom doors and descended the staircase, trying desperately to get my flats to go on and stay on.
There's a special breed of panic that courses through your veins when you can feel the one person you want so desperately slipping through your fingers. When that happens, and you're running alone through a strange part of town at night, you can't help but feel a little on edge.
My footsteps pounded the pavement on the abandoned streets. There was no way to be sure that I was headed the right way. All I knew is that he didn't have that good of a head start on me and I was faster than him.
None of it mattered, because coming into view ahead of me was an all-too-familiar ashy blond haired man in tight black pants and an off-white shirt with sparkly suspenders. "Hey!" I called after him, picking up my pace.
"God, why can't you just let me be?" Peeta cried out, not letting up his run.
"Wait a second! I have one more letter I need you to read," I said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back to me.
He loosed an exasperated, throaty groan. "What the fuck? What is wrong with you?" He asked. "He was right there! Stop rubbing my nose in it and give it to him yourself!" Peeta was right. It did, from someone who wasn't me, look like that.
Still, I knew what I meant by it and he had to give me a chance. "No," I said resolutely.
"No?" He took a step back, surprised at my sudden stance. His eyebrows arched high, curiously.
"Just hear me out," I said, taking the envelope out of my pocket and waving it in front of him. "You don't ever have to see me again if you don't want to- after you read this letter. Alright?"
He scoffed a little, taking the letter and shaking his head, eyes a little watery. "This is so fucked up," he attested.
I draped his coat over his shoulders carefully, then stuffed my hands down deep in my pockets. "Yeah, yeah. Just read it."
With a sigh, he began aloud. "Dear Peeta," his eyes darted back up at me, questioningly. I merely nodded back at the paper. He rolled his eyes, reading again. "I know you wrote the letter. I know Gale isn't coming," his shoulders slumped and he wiped away a tear. Apparently, he'd really thought he'd done a bang up job of hiding it. "The only way... The only way you could meet my crazy..." he trailed off.
Instead of forcing him through it, I decided to take over, having memorized it anyway. "Is by doing something crazy yourself. Thank you. I love you. I knew it the minute I met you. Before, I think." I found myself close to yelling and brought it back down, closing some of the space between us. " I think, a long time ago, you were someone I thought of as a symbol of change, of renewal. I'm sorry that you've experienced the worst things life has to offer, but somehow, you've survived." Peeta seemed absolutely dumbstruck by my words. He'd never expected any of this from me, I don't think. "I'd like to be to you what you've been to me since you threw that money in our coffee can a long time ago. A good thing to come. Real." I paused, wiping away a tear from my own face. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to catch up. I just got stuck. Katniss." We stared at each other silently for a moment, before I finally worked up the energy to add the last thing I wanted to say. "I wrote that a week ago."
"A week ago?" he said, tensely.
I whispered a weak, "Yes."
"You let me lie to you for a whole week?" he yelped, bringing his hands to cover his face in frustration.
"I thought it would be romantic," I offered lamely.
He paced around a little, clearly trying to come up with something to say. "You did this incredible thing for me and I couldn't..." he gestured in my direction, but I didn't catch it's intention. "I fucked it all up," he said, bringing himself to a stop. For someone who usually had such a way with words, he was sure having some trouble tonight, though I will admit that was nice and concise, even if it was 100% wrong.
"I didn't do anything, Peeta," I said, moving toward him and wrapping my arms hesitantly around his waist. For the first time, I really allowed myself to get lost in his embrace.
"God, Katniss," he said, shaking his head. "You never give yourself enough credit. You should hate me. I couldn't even bring myself to give him the letter and give you the chance to be happy with your... " he pulled back for a moment, finally internalizing everything I'd said in the letter. "Wait... You love me?" he asked, his blue eyes searching mine desperately.
"Yeah. I do." I answered, smiling again. "Do you?"
"God, yes," he breathed.
"Okay then," I said, pulling his mouth down to meet mine, finally.
We stayed there for who knows how long, allowing ourselves this moment of unabashed, unhindered, unadulterated bliss, knowing once and for all that this love was real and ours.