Part 9

You see through right to the heart of me

You break down my walls with the strength of your love

I never knew love like I've known it with you

Will a memory survive, one I can hold on to

I don't really need to look very much further

I don't wanna have to go where you don't follow

I won't hold it back again, this passion inside

I can't run from myself

There's nowhere to hide

Your love I'll remember forever

-from I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston

Katniss

Despite the warm day, a cool breeze heralded the start of evening as Peeta pulled into a cobblestone driveway flanking a bungalow in a sleepy, exclusive neighborhood. The house was...quaint, remarkably so given the fact that it belonged to a single man who spent most of his time away from home. Katniss had expected an ultramodern building with lots of glass and angles, but what greeted her instead was a beautiful, stone house the color of burnt orange with a large, front-facing bay window. The porch was small - nothing compared to Annie's wrap-around. There was just enough space for a cozy swing and a small wooden table, perhaps a place to rest a drink on a summer evening.

The accents were painted in shades of ochre and there was a rust-colored entrance that matched the garage door on the small, two story building at the end of the drive. As Peeta pulled forward, he pressed a button on his dashboard, and the garage door opened on silent tracks. They were both uncharacteristically quiet as he parked the car inside, shutting it off before closing the door again. Katniss followed him through the dark interior of the garage through a side door to the back yard, which was deceptively more expansive than the size of the house would have led a person to believe.

Peeta grasped her hand, guiding her through the heavy hanging trees and lush, overgrown bushes down a small path. It was then that she realized his house sat at the top a slope, at the foot of which lay a small pond.

"This is breath-taking!" Katniss said, settling on the stone bench before a pool of clear water bordered with tall reeds and dotted with giant, waxy green lily pads. She thought of Annie's words of earlier, how sensitive Peeta was to beauty. "Do you come here to draw?"

Peeta gave her a smile so shy and endearing, she barely repressed the urge to touch his face as he sat down. "This is exactly why I bought this house. Well, this and the solarium," he smiled, surveying the greenery. I love to sit here and sketch whatever caught my eye during the day." He tapped his temple lightly. "I told you, I have an almost photographic memory."

"It's really intimate," Katniss said with open admiration, wondering at what images his mind reproduced when he was alone. "Have you drawn anything lately?"

He nodded. "Most of my recent sketches are at your place, but I have my paintings inside."

"Would you show them to me?" she asked.

Peeta smiled, that shy and sweet expression returning, and again, she had to stifle the urge to pull his face to hers and kiss him. Instead, she took his hand and gently pulled him to his feet, letting him lead her back out of the thicket that held his magical pool.

Katniss was in a strange state, with Annie's words settling into the spaces of her mind and the pool enchanting her memory. When they approached the house, that magical feeling persisted at the sight of trees hung heavily over what appeared to be a glassed-in patio that stretched the entire back length of the house. It was bordered with wood that complimented the dark accents of the main house. Katniss had seen solariums before - this was an example of a small one, given the size of the house. But when she stepped inside, she was greeted by tarp-covered canvases that littered the small space. There were not only canvases on easels; they leaned against walls, tables - any surface that could support them.

The floor was mottled by the soft evening sunlight filtering through the leaves above, while the furniture itself was spare - here the house revealed the itinerant nature of the owner. But it was tastefully chosen and placed strategically throughout the sitting area. Katniss wandered over to a painting on the wall and was excited to see a near life-like rendition of a picture by the sea, a familiar, copper-haired boy frolicking wildly in the sands with another boy, his blond curls shimmering wildly in the light. There were other children scattered along the sands but the two boys were the focal point of the painting. The sea appeared to be moving, lapping at the feet of the scampering boys.

"Finnick and I, when we were just a little older than Tristan is now," Peeta said quietly.

"It's beautiful, Peeta," Katniss said in awe. "I don't know what I was expecting but this is truly amazing."

Peeta flushed as he ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Erm, this painting here is of my family." He walked over to the far wall to a portrait of five people dressed in casual clothing, the mother and father seated, two boys flanking them on each side and one boy, the youngest, seated at his parent's feet. They appeared happy and carefree - a portrait meant to be informal and illustrate the joyful bonds of a loving family.

Katniss glanced at Peeta surreptitiously, his eyes resting heavily on the canvas. "I copied that from a photograph. My mother." He pointed to the slender, blond-haired woman with wide, light blue eyes that radiated color but no warmth.

"My father." He indicated a broad-shouldered man with the same colored-shock of blonde hair that each of the sons had. He had a happy expression, perhaps the most genuine of all.

"My brothers, Ronan and Phillip." He waved over the two boys flanking the parents.

"And me."

Katniss studied the boy on the ground. His cheeks were full and round where his brothers had already thinned out, both being in that age of transition where the body isn't sure what it is. But Peeta's seated form called to mind the innocent simplicity of childhood. After her conversation with Annie, she searched the face for the unhappiness that would drive him away, into the military and onto the path that led to where they now stood. But his expression was already an inscrutable mask, and Katniss realized there was nothing revealed there except the face of someone who, at a young age, had already learned the art of going into hiding.

"You were a beautiful little boy," she said, thinking that at that age, Prim had already been without a father, and only had the protection of a scrawny, eleven year old girl who had tried to keep their lives together while their mother had disappeared into her own cavernous grief. It had been more than hard, some days so difficult, she had just wanted to sit down and give up. But she'd had Prim, who was good and kind and loved Katniss, with her every flaw, her every deficiency, and even now gave her the strength to go forward. If she had worn a mask to the world, it wasn't because she was afraid to show who she was, but because she hadn't wanted her sister to see how close she often came to breaking.

"We all wear masks," Katniss said, so low, she thought Peeta couldn't hear her. But he looked at her sharply, his expression becoming almost weary and even relieved, as if she had found out his secret, and he was too tired to prove her wrong.

"Are you, Katniss? Are you wearing a mask?" he asked slowly.

Katniss captured and held his serious gaze. "I used to."

"And now?" He stepped closer, but Katniss needed distance to think, so she floated towards another easel.

"Not anymore," she whispered as she studied another brilliant canvas of a meadow dotted with dandelions. It was painted such that the viewer felt they were in the middle of the meadow, at eye level with the golden flowers, the sun setting in a hail of oranges that she now knew he loved. Her heart suddenly became heavy for him. Annie had been right; he shouldn't have been forced onto a path that did not allow him to explore his abilities, to cultivate them and share the astonishing visions he captured so beautifully with the world. "You have so much talent. Has anyone ever told you that?" she asked.

Peeta's intense expression melted into a small smile, full of pride. "My teachers always said so." He glanced at the family portrait, furrowing his eyebrows. "They told me I had a gift."

"Would you ever do this as more than a hobby?" Katniss asked.

Peeta's eyes widened in surprise. "I…" he said, and she came to the stunning conclusion that, even if he had at one point, he no longer seriously entertained the possibility. He smiled, taking her hand and pulling her to towards him. "I'm a little old for all that," he said dismissively. "And I like my work now."

Katniss was hard-pressed not to glare at him. "Bullshit," she said, perhaps with more vehemence than she'd intended. "You have no good reason not to take courses or study, if that's what you really want…" she said with a desperation that took her by surprise, as if with that one thing, she could erase all the tragedies he'd been submitted to in his life.

Peeta chuckled, studying her half humorously, half incredulously. "If I did that, who would take care of you? Do you know that protecting you is a full-time job?"

"Don't you even use me as an excuse!" Katniss spat angrily. "I'd work around your schedule; you could have all the days off you needed, hire more bodyguards. That's not even a reason…"

"Katniss?" Peeta said, suddenly serious. "What's gotten into you?"

Katniss flushed. She was horrible with words and there was no way she could tell him how much Annie's conversation had affected her, how irrational her reaction was. And yet, she could not help the cacophony of emotions that wracked her after knowing what she now knew about him, how she had an uncontrollable urge to right every wrong ever done to him. She realized at that moment how angry she was on his behalf, as if the universe had been given one job - to protect him - and it had failed.

"I…" she sputtered, her words failing her completely. Instead, she reached up with impressive strength and pulled his head down to kiss her. She dominated that moment, guiding him as she kissed him hard. Peeta's reaction was instantaneous, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her against him until her feet almost left the ground, returning her ardor stroke for stroke. Katniss thought she'd have more time to talk about his art, his mother, Finnick. She thought she'd have a parenthesis to unleash all the feelings she was carrying inside of her. But what she felt had become unbearable, and she had no choice but to act.

As Peeta returned her kiss, he splayed his large hands across her back, pressing her more tightly against him, stroking her from the nape of her neck to the edge of her jeans. She felt his fingers against her as he found the exposed skin revealed by her shirt riding up and with a small moan, shivered at the way he caressed the small of her back.

"Katniss," he groaned, pulling back, every illusion of indifference gone as the tops of his cheeks turned pink.

She thrilled at the plaintive sound of her name on his lips. She shook her head before kissing him again, more gently this time. Peeta kissed her back with the same gentleness, imploring with his kiss what he could not ask with his voice. Her response was to kiss him again, wordlessly begging him to follow her.

Whatever resistance he'd felt up to that moment evaporated. Lips still locked together, he lifted her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He wound his way through the darkening house as the sunset left long, slanted shadows along the hard wood floors.

When he set her down in the bedroom, he took her head in both his hands, holding it in place. He searched her eyes, her face, perhaps for signs of hesitation or doubt, but Katniss gave nothing away, instead placing her own hands over his, pressing them gently against her cheeks, the warmth of his palms intoxicating her. Peeta looked at her warily, but Katniss would have none of it.

"Stop acting like you're surprised I want this too," Katniss said firmly. "I'm not a teenager." She dropped her hands to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, dislodging his in the process. "I know how to say no."

Peeta gasped in shock at the sight of her exposed torso, before he grasped her upper arms, pulling her towards him until she was within an inch of his face. "I'm warning you, if I start, I won't stop. I've wanted you for too long. I have to hear you say it. Is this something you really want? Do you allow it?"

Katniss almost faltered, not from lack of resolve, but from the fierceness in his expression. However, she simply nodded once. "I allow it."

She slipped her hands under his shirt, pulling it off of him and flinging it across the floor to join her own discarded clothing. Her fingers ran along the expanse of his well-muscled chest and rippled abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch in anticipation of more.

As she rained kisses down on his neck and chest, his hands raced over her body, squeezing her hips, sliding upwards until he reached the clasp of her bra and with one practiced pinch, undid it, letting it fall off her shoulders. He paused as his eyes roamed her bare breasts hungrily, distracted only when Katniss captured his nipple between her lips and sucked on one, then the other. He could only hiss in response as his hands frantically searched for her hair to find purchase.

Katniss felt him freeze when he found himself with a handful of her wig hair. "May I take this off?" he asked.

She reached up, pulling off the disguise, her own dark braid tumbling from its confines. Peeta tugged at the band holding it in place and with gentle strokes of his thick fingers, loosened her hair until it lay in ripples over shoulders.

"Beautiful," he muttered before pressing his fingers against the nape of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss as his other hand cupped the swell of her soft, firm breast. His lips traveled over her, kissing wherever they landed - her mouth, her neck, her smooth collarbone until he stopped to suck on the tops of her breasts, the turgid nipples rising in supplication to meet him.

She moaned his name over and over as his tongue danced over the tips, drawing them out until they were hard pebbles between his lips. He tugged them playfully, insistently until her words made no more sense. His hands spanned her figure, sliding over the exposed skin of her waist, reaching the top of her pants, followed by his mouth as he unbuttoned them, pushing them down her legs.

All the emotions Katniss had been holding in since her talk with Annie spilled over into the kisses she now gave him so freely, in every movement of her shaking body. Her mind ceased all functioning and she was possessed only by the pure feeling of his hands and mouth on her. Her breath came in pants as he pressed her gently towards the bed and laid her down, his mouth teasing out the tender spaces between her hip bones, nibbling a path that came tantalizingly close to the edge of her underwear. Her expectation grew as he bit her mound over the thin material, causing her to yelp in surprise. When she glanced down at him, he wore a smirk that made her chuckle.

"What are you so smug about?" she teased breathlessly. "You haven't done anything yet."

Peeta raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

"Just an observation," she said flippantly, feeling anything but.

Peeta tugged her legs until her bottom rested at the edge of the mattress, leaving open-mouthed kisses over her belly and thighs.

"I'm going to make you sing before I'm finished with you," he growled against her belly button.

"I already sing for a living," she said in a burst of air as he rolled her panties off of her.

His voice came thick and husky as he answered, "Not like this." He lowered his head, running his tongue in one, long, tantalizing path over her wet center. She was so ready, he could have taken her then if he wanted to, but she knew what he wanted to hear - all the ways she could shout his name. And so his tongue danced and plunged, thick baker's fingers gently probing her in time. Katniss' answering cries pierced the air as her thighs pressed against his ears. He worked with deliberate slowness until she felt him press her clit, his thumb rubbing circles that wound her up, her back arching with each pass.

"Ahhhh, Peeta! " she shouted, as he moved faster, more insistently, pinning her hips so that she could not move until she shuddered and came against his lips, her soft walls fluttering around his fingers.

Peeta straightened to unbuckle his belt and remove his pants, kicking them off, all the while holding her now dazed gaze with his own. His cock visibly strained against the confines of his underwear and though Katniss' bones were made of jelly, she knew she would not know true relief until he was finally inside of her. She rose slowly, tugging his hips towards her, her lips tracing the outline of his swollen erection against the soft material of his boxer shorts.

"Fair is fair," she said with a grin as she tugged the elastic hem downwards, freeing his cock. She captured it in hand and stroked it, peppering his stomach and thighs with kisses. Pulling him onto the bed, she made room for him to lay next to her before resuming her kisses along his thighs and knees, all the while stroking him until he moaned loudly. Katniss left a lingering kiss against the tip of his cock before lifting her head to look at him.

"I'm not the only one who's going to sing," she said before sliding her lips over him, taking him in as deeply as she could. Peeta moaned again, mumbling incomprehensibly as she bobbed her head up and down, pausing to use her tongue to stroke him before resuming her rhythm. She was overwhelmed by that strange combination of sweat, spice, and the musk that defined him, so much so that she was taken by surprise when he pulled out of her mouth and pressed her back onto the mattress, ravaging her with kisses between bursts of heavy breathing. He nudged her legs open, positioning himself between them.

Katniss glanced between them meaningfully but she was greeted by another sly smile as Peeta triumphantly pulled out a silver foil packet, ripping it open with his teeth, discarding the piece by spitting it somewhere over his shoulder. She couldn't help but laugh at his eager willingness to dispense with manners when he thrust the packet towards her. "Will you do the honors?"

She smiled coyly as she grasped his rigid cock in hand, stroking it before sheathing it in the thin material of the condom, rolling it with exaggerated slowness, watching while Peeta's eyes fluttered shut.

"Only you can make putting on a condom the sexiest fucking thing in the world," he said as he leaned forward, pressing against her. "Ready?"

She nodded, pulling him down to kiss her as he sank into her, relishing every inch of him until he had buried himself deeply inside of her. It was thrilling and uncomfortable and fulfilling all at once. As Peeta sucked on the skin of her earlobe, he rocked into her, slowly at first, then with more speed as they both began to rise, a crescendo of motion that coiled tightly around him. Moving faster, Peeta shook his head as if in exasperation.

"Goddammit, you feel too good!" he complained, the exertion turning his skin pink, sweat beginning to gather at his brow and temple. "I"m coming. Shit!" he said angrily, trembling from the effort to keep himself under control.

Katniss stroked his hair, leaning forward to kiss his neck. "It's okay. We'll do it again." She stared up into his open eyes. "Let go."

Peeta nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as he thrust once, twice, three times before shuddering his release, grunting in anger and abandon until at last, he dropped his head onto her shoulder, panting as his body struggled with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"I'm sorry," he said against her shoulder, his voice still filled with tension. "It's been awhile."

"It's been awhile for me too," Katniss said drowsily, focusing instead on the stickiness between them, their mingled sweat cooling in the night air. "Two years, maybe. How about you?"

Peeta sighed as he rolled next to her. "About the same. Two years, nine months, 12 days give or take," he said quietly, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory.

Katniss narrowed her eyes, awash in a feeling she did not want to dwell on for very long. "Was she that good that you felt the need to keep count?"

Peeta rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "I do that with everything. When was the last time I read a book? Four months, two weeks, three days. When was the last time I went to the beach? Six months eleven days. When was the last time I watched a music video? Eight days." He glanced at her, amusement written all over his face as he finally noticed her continued scowl. "It's that little memory thing I told you about."

Katniss stared at him suspiciously, undecided whether to believe him or not. "If you say so," she muttered moodily, turning her face away. Peeta lifted himself, reclining on his elbow as he caught her chin in his hand and turned her face towards him.

"You're jealous," he stated simply.

"Don't even…" she started but he stopped her with his mouth pressing against hers.

"Yes you are." His lips smiled but his eyes blazed with an intensity that reached into the deepest corners of her chest to clamp itself around her heart. "Do you think anything compares to what we just did? I'm cursed with the ability to see every detail of every event and remember it, replaying it over and over until I'm sick of myself. I've always hated it except when I paint…" Peeta ran his hand along her neck, splaying his fingers between her breasts, his thumb just glancing her nipple so that it rose automatically. "...and now, you. I'll replay every sound you made, every breath you took, and finally be grateful that I won't forget. It's more than enough to erase everything that came before."

Katniss bit her lip to keep from dissolving into those hiccuping sobs that she hated so much. Instead, she pulled him down and kissed him, clasping her arms around his neck. He leaned onto her, his nearly unbearable weight pressing her down into the mattress.

When they broke off, Katniss' mind whirled again. "Is that...is that how you remember Finnick too?" she asked hesitantly, knowing she was perhaps treading on dangerous ground, but Annie's words had still remained with her, even when all thinking had stopped. She could not help her need to know his heart more.

Peeta's face froze, the only visible movement was his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He appeared to study her, debating something before releasing the tension he held in check. "Every night since he died, I see him. Sometimes, there'll be a break and I'll dream other nightmares - losing Tristan in a toy store, my father getting ill and dying before we can make things up…" He took a shaky breath and Katniss instantly regretted the question. She pressed her head to his forehead, giving him wordless permission to stop if that's what he wanted but he continued. "Hurting someone by accident…or not being able to protect you..." He looked up at her then, his eyes brimming with a pain long hidden. Katniss was stunned by his anguish, her heart constricting to a vice-like pressure over Peeta's hurt. She realized this was a side of himself he probably did not often reveal.

"But Finnick...I was there, Katniss," Peeta said, his voice raw. He sat up, pulling his knees up to rest his chin against them, almost like a child would when they've been punished. "I imagined everything when I went in with him but never that. He...he died right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything to save him. One minute, we were alive, happy, talking about Tristan and going home and the next…" He paused, rubbing a hand over his face, and Katniss suspected he was rubbing tears away. "I failed him."

Katniss sat up also, putting an arm around his curved shoulders. "I don't know all the details but unless you pulled the trigger, there is no way you can blame yourself. "

Peeta looked at her out of the corner of his eye, bumping her playfully. "I appreciate it, you know."

"Appreciate what?" she asked.

"What you're trying to do. I know in my mind what you're saying is true, but..." He dropped his head as if everything had become suddenly very heavy.

"You can't help the way you feel," she finished for him. His eyes were tired, from the excitement of the day, their lovemaking, the weight of memory. Katniss tugged him to her, reclining on the bed pillows and settling him against her chest. "Lay your head down, soldier, and rest now." He stared at her for a long moment, a rapid array of emotions she couldn't quite place flitting over his face before he closed his eyes, his cheek resting over the place where her heart pounded in time with his. She tenderly brushed a wave of hair off his forehead as she felt the tension leave his body.

I'll protect you.

With a parting sigh from him and that refrain in her head, they both drifted off to sleep.

XXXXX

Sometime in the deepest hours of the night, Katniss woke to Peeta's thrashing, a look of exquisite pain marring his sleeping features. Settling a hand on his brow, she slowly stroked him awake. When his eyes fluttered open, they were bottomless pools of grief and agony. And yet, at the sight of her, his eyes cleared, the tiny diamond droplets of tears on his eyelashes glistening like frost on baby firs.

Katniss let him pull her over him, his hands and mouth searching her body before he flipped her beneath him again This time, when he hovered over her, he was no longer playful but took her with the seriousness of a man holding something so rare, it might shatter from rough handling. Katniss felt the rocking of his hips like a soundless melody in her heart, lonely but questioning. Her every thrust was an answer to his silent petition - to stay, to understand him, to dare to love him. And every time, her silent response was yes.

A phone vibrated insistently in the distance, invading their consciousness, threatening to hijack their moment. But Katniss tugged Peeta back into their tiny world, whispering, "Let it ring," before clenching her muscles around him. Peeta nodded, thrusting hard into her, over and over until an anchor somewhere in the real world snapped and they were both flying.

XXXXX

Many thanks to bubblegum1425, katnissdoesnotfollowback and peetabreadgirl for their constant support with this fic. We are nearing the climax of the story and I am so grateful to all of you for your reviews and your dedication. I will respond to the latest rounds of reviews this week. Your comments, observations and questions are what really make this endeavor worthwhile and I have had the most amazing conversations by email with some of you. Thank you for the time you take to speak to me.

I am participating in the Finish-a-Fic month (-ish) Challenge hosted by Everlarkianarchives (over on tumblr). Finishing this fic is my first goal. My second one is to finish The Sharp Edge of Memory (formerly Persuasion) before September 1st. If you are following my work, that is the next fic I will be working on until it's finished.

Thanks for sticking with this. I appreciate you guys so much :D.