It was the best night Peeta had experienced in... He couldn't even remember. His childhood had often been spotted by fits of anger and violence – he'd never had the almost carefree play of the Hawthorne kids. It was wonderful. It made him ache for his own family despite their faults.
They'd played three rounds of Posy's newly invented game, each time the rules becoming more difficult and Posy-success-centered. Smiles and laughter were plentiful as everyone seemed to forget the tragedy that they'd faced. Sure, there were moments where Posy would almost mention Prim, Prim, and the room would pause. Multiple times it had caused Rory and Katniss to shift in their seats and grit their teeth in pain.
Peeta had watched carefully, ready to help if he could. He'd found, in this short time of exposure with this family, that Katniss belonged here. She deserved this laughter and happiness that they all radiated.
He'd have to think about that long and hard before he expressed his own feelings. He didn't want her to feel as though she had to stay. Maybe she could move to District 2 with them – be part of a family again. He wouldn't ask her to give up that opportunity.
At some point, as the games rounded down and Peeta sat against the couch, Posy had rested up against his side and begun to sleep. It was almost too much. He wanted too badly to have this life, to have a child of his own. Slowly, he placed his arm around the sleeping child and held her close as she curled in tighter. When he looked up his eyes met Katniss' who was watching, her head tilted slightly.
"Alright boys, it's time for bed," Hazelle called. The boys grumbled but relented and raced upstairs to one of the spare rooms. Gale had moved to reach for Posy, mumbling a small 'thanks' towards Peeta as he went.
Katniss watched as the room emptied and then scooted over to the spot where Posy had just been removed from. She lifted Peeta's arm and placed it around her, pulling her body in close. Peeta breathed in the scent of her hair and smiled. He was doing so much of that tonight.
"That was fun," he said. She nodded into his chest. It was a small moment of comfort, her resting there, the quiet of the evening surrounding them. It seemed so normal that Peeta didn't want to let it go.
They heard the footsteps coming down the stairs and Peeta shifted to stand.
"I guess it's time for me to get home too. I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked. He knew it was too soon for their routine from before to start again – maybe it would be best if it never returned.
Her gaze met his and she nodded, "Yes, come for brunch. We might get in a hunt before if Gale let's me near the forest again." She paused. "Did you talk to Haymitch? Should I go over there?"
"Yeah, I talked to him. He was so relieved he picked up the bottle again," Peeta shook his head in disgust. Katniss nodded. "You should see him sometime tomorrow; he'd probably appreciate a nice wake up call." Peeta turned to leave as Gale re-entered the room.
"Thank you," Gale said, seeing Peeta head for the door. Peeta met his gaze and nodded, a silent passing of appreciation between the two as he left for home.
While he walked the short distance between his home and Katniss' he considered his current state. He hadn't relapsed. He hadn't even had a flashback. Something had changed. He hoped it stuck.
His house was eerily quiet compared to the backdrop of Katniss' for the last few hours. He felt the dark encompassing him but for once it didn't smother. He made his way blindly through the kitchen and then upstairs to his room, not hitting anything on his way. Stripping down to his boxers he flopped onto his bed, exhausted.
He wouldn't have dreams that night.
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Startled, he awoke to feel the cold hands resting against his bare chest as she curled up next to him. For once, he didn't feel threatened. He felt cherished. His mind was foggy with sleep as she planted a small kiss on his shoulder. He placed his lips on her forehead and wrapped a leg and an arm around her, trapping her next to him.
He didn't want to let her go. Ever.
His breath evened out again and he drifted back into sleep.
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He awoke at dawn to an empty bed. Had it all been a dream? He hoped not. But the place where she'd laid was cold like the morning air. He pulled in a breath and rolled to his feet, deciding to make cinnamon buns for brunch.
The smell spread through his house and coated his skin as he pulled them free of the oven. It was delicious. When the sun broached the mid-morning sky he wrapped them carefully in paper and set off with the buns and some icing, walking into chaos.
The kids had been let loose in the house and were playing a mad dash of manhunt through the kitchen as Hazelle boiled some eggs and Gale sat at the table.
Peeta nodded in greeting and offered up the cinnamon buns to Hazelle who grinned broadly and pulled down a plate and a knife for him to spread the icing with. He turned to sit across from Gale who was nursing a cup of coffee.
His mind flitted to where Katniss was when he heard the scream. His body tensed. Gale watched him like a hawk. When he heard the giggles and Katniss squeal for the tickles to stop he couldn't help but laugh out loud – the thought of Katniss playing tickle monster was beyond him.
"How was the hunt?" Peeta asked as he spread on a thick layer of sugar.
"Fine, we didn't catch much just a turkey and a few squirrel – did you want them? We'll be heading out this evening and can't take them on the train." Peeta looked at him, surprised they were leaving so soon.
"You're leaving already? What about Katniss?" Hazelle cleared her throat behind him and then left the room. Obviously she didn't want to be involved in this conversation.
"She'll be fine, Peeta. You've seen the improvements she made. Besides, now you know her hiding spot you can go get her anytime she disappears again. She doesn't need us here, cluttering up her house."
"But you're her family. You can see how happy she is with you!" Gale snorted. Peeta was getting desperate – what if she wasn't happy again after they left? "What if she went with you?"
Gale paused, his mouth opening slowly but no words forming.
"She could go with you to District 2. You would be good for her-" Peeta couldn't believe he was doing this, couldn't believe he was giving her up "- she needs this!"
"She needs you, Peeta. Or do you still not get that she's actually there, with you, on how you feel about each other? You make her happy. You helped her come home. She'd never come with us." Peeta could see how difficult the words were for Gale. It made it all the more painfully true.
"I just don't want to hurt her again." The words were simple.
"You won't. Or I'll have to get my ass on that damned train again and come kill you myself."
Before he could respond the rest of the Hawthorne clan was piling into the kitchen, foaming at the mouth for the delicious breakfast pastries.
Katniss slinked in last and placed a hand on his shoulder as she sat down to eat. It was a comforting move, as though she could sense the tension that had been broken a moment earlier. He smiled and reached for some toast and ate, enjoying the noise around the table.
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It was evening before he saw her again, having known she would want a private goodbye at the train station. She hadn't even gone home in between, he knew, because he'd heard the whistle of departure and felt her presence in his kitchen not soon after.
He'd turned from his baking, seen her tears, and reached to wrap her in a strong embrace. He'd spent the whole time picturing her getting on the train and not coming back to him. It had been a long afternoon. They'd held each other until she'd calmed and he had returned to his cookie prep, offering to let her help. She'd declined, citing a tragic baking accident in which she'd burnt everything.
He'd smiled, adding baking onto his checklist of things they could rediscover together.
When the cookies were complete and the kitchen was clean they retired to the couch in his front room. The book that they had started lay unfinished on the table in front of them.
Peeta couldn't face it tonight.
Instead, he turned to her and was stunned to find her lips on his. It wasn't as gentle as it had been before. It was frantic. Peeta pulled back and placed his hands against her cheeks, his thumbs running along her cheekbones.
"I love you, Katniss." He'd said it. It was the first time in so long. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his.
"I know," It wasn't enough, but Peeta knew it was hard.
They sat in silence for a while, gently running their fingers along each other's arms and hands. It was exploratory. It was foreign. He liked it.
"Peeta? Can I ask you something?" Peeta halted his movement along her collarbone and looked into her grey eyes.
"Anything."
"Why... What happened with the black?" She didn't have to say anymore, Peeta knew what she was asking. It had been all consuming for them both.
"I don't really know. It might be temporary. It stopped for a while when I was in the Capitol as well. I think that I realized that I couldn't live without you when you were gone," he paused, remembering. "I mean, I feel like maybe I was so focused on finding you that I remembered all of the things I loved about you and they just kind of, trumped the black?"
"Oh," she responded. He wasn't sure if she needed more from him. "I'm sorry I disappeared. But I'm not sorry that it helped you, I don't know if that's a good thing." Peeta nodded slowly as his mind mulled whether to ask his next question.
"I read something Haymitch showed me while you were gone," he knew he was about to infiltrate her privacy and he wasn't sure if he should. He had to know. "It was from Dr Aurelius. It said... It mentioned that you were trying to hurt yourself a lot." His tongue flopped on the words in his mouth. She tensed next to him and he prepared for her to sink away.
"I did. I was almost successful a few times." It was a quiet confession.
"Do you still..." He let the question hang in the air.
"Not as much. Sometimes when I'm alone I think how easy it would be, especially here, where nobody would really notice, but then I just... I come back and it's not as bad anymore."
"I'd notice." His throat closed at the words. She nodded into his chest, continuing.
"Sometimes it's like your black; it just takes over. They gave me pills but I don't like them. They stop me from feeling human." Peeta knew, he had his own set of abandoned medicine upstairs.
"Katniss," his voice was tight as his eyes met hers, "Just... Can we try to be okay?" He was going to ask her not to leave, but he couldn't ask that of her. It would trap her. She didn't respond, instead choosing to wrap herself up on his lap.
Peeta could live with that. He leaned down and his lips met hers again. It was different this time, slower. He moved to his feet and pulled her hand with him, she followed easily as they made their way upstairs.
It wasn't unfamiliar, he thought, pulling her into his room and closing the door. It was almost as though they were on the train again, hurtling towards another District. But they were older now, more broken, and less willing to hide.
He stepped to her and pulled her tight against him, his hands running along her spine and under the back of her shirt. She smelled like forest and fresh air and soap. His left hand reached to pull her hair loose as he pressed his lips to hers.
She stalled below his touch, unsure. Peeta tried not to flinch at the small rejection and kept his body flush against her.
"Tell me to stop and I will," his words were strained against her lips. He would. He would. He wished he wouldn't have to.
She answered by meeting his mouth with hers and running her small fingers up his chest, flipping buttons off as she went. It was a yes. Peeta's heart raced.
This had been what he'd wanted for so long. What he had almost damned himself with so recently. He wrestled internally with his own self-loathing and with the need he felt. He wanted to convince her to never leave with the only thing he had left to truly offer her. She had to see how much he loved her, see the difference between the black and him. He needed to convince himself that the black didn't own him. That he could still love despite it lurking in his mind.
They stumbled their way backwards towards the bed as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and he pulled her arms free of hers. She fell back with her legs over the edge as he leaned forward over her, still standing. It was easier for his leg. His lips traced the line of her jaw and sank downwards into the curve of her neck, tasting and probing for more. He knew it was right by the soft sounds in the dark.
Her hand skittered around his chest as it chased the lines of his scars. As his mouth lowered to her exposed chest he saw the mirror of the burns in her skin. His heartbeat skipped with the memory of the fire. He ran his lips across her breasts and pulled one into his mouth. It was sweet and perfect as she lifted to meet him. He needed to show her how she was loved here. That she didn't need to live in that cabin to be somewhere she was loved.
He felt her hands resting on his shoulders as he held still above her, watching. Slowly, as though facing a dangerous animal, she lowered her hand to the front of his pants. He was hard waiting for her touch. He sucked in a breath and moved his hips gently forward into her hand. Her other hand pulled him down to her for another kiss as she began to fiddle with his belt. Once released, she managed to pull his pants and underwear free with her feet, exposing him fully. He felt her nails along his legs and he pushed forward, rubbing himself against the juncture of her thighs. He groaned into her mouth.
"Peeta, Peeta," his name was like a chant on her lips as he pushed against the barrier blocking them. Her hand found him then and gripped, slowly moving along his length. He held his breath; it was all he could do to keep himself together. He needed to keep it together.
He pulled her hand free and she frowned up at him. "Too good," he whispered and returned the favour by placing his hand over her pants. He rubbed her and slid his tongue along her teeth. She was huffing as he reached for her waistband and stepped back, pulling it with him. He looked over her as the moonlight reflected through the window.
"Katniss," It was a promise. He stepped forward again and pressed his fingers into where she burned for him. She writhed under his motion and he could see her fingers gripping the sheets. He leaned down to kiss her, slowly, so slowly. "Tell me to stop if-" he didn't even get the sentence out before she pulled him to her again.
Her body was reacting to him fiercely. Her breath was puffing out and her noises were strained. He stilled his movements in her and ran a hand up to her breast, cupping it gently. He slowly returned his movements with a controlled pace, watching as she felt the wave rising within her. Her eyes were shut tightly as it closed in on her breaking point and he whispered quietly, "Open your eyes, love."
She did.
His gaze met hers as she rode out the wave. He could feel her pulsing around his fingers and then he slowly slipped into her. It was a strange mixture of pain and pleasure that he saw cast upon her features. He knew she was taking time to adjust. He held his body still, only moving his fingers along where their bodies connected.
She breathed out and he watched her intently. She was beautiful. When she finally reached for him he pressed his lips to her collar bone and began a steady thrusting pace. She wrapped her legs around his and he put his knees flush against the side of the bed, pulling her to the edge to go deeper.
He didn't have much control left. His mind began racing with all the things he wanted to say. His mouth began moving and the words tumbled out uncensored. As his pace quickened he pressed his face into her hair.
"Katniss, Katniss. So beautiful. So strong, Katniss..." He could feel it building inside him, felt his body pulling taunt as she held him tightly. He pulsed into her and finally let go, her name on his lips.
Her arms wrapped around him and she pulled him forward, shifting them, still coupled, further onto the bed. She was so warm in his arms. He never wanted to let go. He couldn't. The tears he'd held back threatened to spill over as he gently placed kisses across her skin.
"My Peeta..." She whispered, her fingers running through his hair. Her breath was returning to normal and he could feel his body relaxing from the rush. He pulled her closer, wanting to pull her into him. He could feel himself drifting off to sleep as she pulled the blanket over them, still joined, not willing to part. She was rubbing her hands along his back, soothing him to sleep.
It was too much. It was too good. He let go of the few tears he'd been holding in as he drifted in and out of consciousness. She needed to stay. He needed her to be alright.
He wasn't sure if he'd slip into the realm of dreaming when he heard her whisper, "My heart is yours, my strong Peeta." He wanted so badly for it to be real and not shiny.