A/N: Thank you so, so much DandelionOnFire (Ha,ha, P.P.P.S xD Oh well, I didn't get an e-mail, but I saw you did it. Thanks for saying I deserve my reviews, too. And I hope this chapter will not disappoint you;)), Aria-dancingdolphins15 (Thanks again!) , HungerGamesLover1020 (Thank you. Merry Christmas!), CharmChaser (More fluff, huh? Let's see what we can do...:D), IwouldKillForaCheeseBun (Thanks a lot! That's a big complement for me, because I love writing:D And I know it was short. But I honestly didn't know what to write anymore...), Amanda332czx (Sorry, it wasn't supposed to sound like that. She didn't find it scary that it was like a sibling hug, she found it scary that she felt two different things. And you're right about feeling protected in both hugs...now that you pointed it out. But it's just that...I don't know. While writing it I thought of hugging my brother...and I don't feel protected when I do that. I feel like I'm the one protecting.), ISheartandsoul (yes, that's the reason it's up today!),Funkypurplerhino ,Kari (I'm not sure about that. I always thought she is rather confused and doesn't have real feelings for him. And then she thinks she does when he suffers. Think about it. She doesn't know if she feels anything when he kisses her, which made me assume she doesn't. I think she always persuades herself she does because she feels guilty. Peeta is what the Capitol gave her. And she hates the Capitol. So Gale is more a political choice...{for more explantation read my answer to "Galelover"}Oh, and this Chapter may seem rushed, but don't judge until you've read the next, alright?), BBree23 (Thank you. Happy holidays for you too), elisemellark (oh, come on:) I do. What would I do without Gale? I love writing about him...for some strange reason...and he is her best friend) and Galelover (first, thank you. And in the first book it says she doesn't want marriage at all. After the Games, when she has to marry Peeta, she thinks about what it would be like to marry Gale. But in my story, she has never been in the Games, so she does have a choice and that choice is not to marry at all)
This is my Christmas present for everyone reading, reviewing, alert-ing and favorite-ing (this aren't really words, but who cares?) this story. Thanks for your support!
So I wish you a Merry Christmas! Fröhliche Weihnachten! Joyeux Noël! ¡Feliz Navidad! Feliz Natal! Hyvää Joulua! Boun Natale! And every other language that I can't write with my keyboard!
Here is the next chapter. Just like I wanted it to be. I loved writing it for you and I hope you will like it. Oh and I noticed I forgot the stupid 's' in Chapters *slaps forehead*. Meaning, in the last Chapter it didn't mean that the last chapter was important for this one, well, maybe a bit, but more for the others.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. But at the moment, I'm to relaxed to be upset about that fact.
Chapter 11:
The next time I have a goal I should really start working harder and faster in order to reach it. Because today is the last day before my time is up. And I still haven't gotten one answer.
Last week, two days after Gale and I's talk, the games ended. After a three hour long, bloody battle the girl from district 2 won. Just like everyone suspected she would.
Well, if you can call it victory. Her once pretty features vanished and she lost one eye and one finger. That's not what I would call pretty anymore.
But that was the last day I saw Peeta. I have to admit that I didn't really try to talk to him, though I don't know the reason. Maybe I'm actually a bit scared. But then again, why should I be scared? Of what? His answer? How can I be scared of an answer I don't even have? And even if I was, why? What could he possibly say? I mean, it's not as though he would do something as stupid as Gale…would he?
I shake my head. Great. Now I start acting like Gale. Thinking Peeta would hurt me in some way. But he's Peeta. He would never say or do anything that would hurt me.
So how come I can't bring myself to just go over and talk to him?
And even if, how am I supposed to do it? I mean, I can't just go over to him and say 'you said you'd answer my questions "later". I want later to be now'. He would do anything but answer me then. But what else can I do?
"Katniss!" I hear someone exclaim. Prim. "What's up, little duck?" "Katniss." She says, quiter now that she is standing in front of me. She smiles. "I just wanted to tell you that you are doing it again. Staring holes in the air, I mean. I thought you told me Peeta had explained everything. But that look on your face is the same one again. You're thinking about something. Spit it out!"
I have to smile, too. Prim. Just always trying to help me. And to get me to talk. And she's so sweet I can never refuse. But the last time I asked her something about Peeta her answer wasn't that helpful. Well, at that time. Now I understand what she meant…so. Oh, I'm giving in. Again. So I sigh. "Yes Prim, you're right."
She nods. "Is it about something Peeta said again?"
"Yes…kind of. I want to talk to him about something…and…I know it sounds stupid, but I don't know how." Oh my. Here I am, asking my little sister for advice. And it's not the first time either. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? But then again, I can't ask my mother, can I? What would she think? Gale…I think that's out of question. And Peeta, well, I can't talk to Peeta about how I'm going to talk to him. So Prim is my only option either way.
Prim giggles. "That's your problem? How about you just go visit him and talk to him? I don't think he would mind."
If only it were that easy. Wait a second…It is. What is up with me? Do I not want to talk to him? No, I do, I know that. So seriously, what is my problem? I imagine just standing up now and going to the bakery and talk to Peeta. And I feel…nervousness? Nervousness? Why would I be nervous? It's just Peeta! What's happening with me? Prim is right, he won't mind. I think he even mentioned he doesn't have to work today. So why can't I bring myself to go?
Prim has triumphant smile on her face now. "See? There is no reason!" Should I tell her?
No. No, it's enough what I told her, she doesn't need to know about me being nervous. And that means…I have to go. Alone in order not to have to tell Prim I have to go. Oh well. I would be upset with myself if I didn't do it anyway. So I decide to ignore any stupid feelings. A feeling I don't understand can't be that important, right?
So I stand up. "Okay Prim, I'm going to go." And I have a bad feeling…if only I knew why.
Even though I thought this feeling can't be important, I think about it the whole way into town. It makes me hesitate, every minute I cosider turning around and going back. But then I come up with a new argument which lets me keep walking. I'm even gnawing my fingernails again. I'm so deep on thought, in my own fight, that I don't even notice everything around me. That is until I, while rounding a corner, bump into someone.
In a matter of seconds the arms of the person are around me, stopping me from falling. Something about this is familiar. But I only now what it is when I look up.
That's what I call the irony of fate. Peeta. The reason why I didn't see him was because I was in thoughts about him. Ironic.
"Katniss." Is all he says. "Peeta." Is my reply. We both stare at each other for a few seconds before we realize he's still holding me. Emberrassed he lets go and I cough. What was that?
"I'm sorry." I stutter. Stutter. What's up with me? I clear my throat. "I didn't look where I was going."
Thank god, he is as embarrassed as I am. His face has a slightly different color, a bit redder. "Yeah, me too. I…I was searching you, actually."
That's a surprise. I am, after all, not the one who left questions unanswered, who tried to avoid answering. "Really? Why?"
He shrugs. "Why not? You're my friend, aren't you? I haven't seen you for a few days. And I have the day off. So I thought why should I not visit her?" Yeah, we're friends. But I haven't thought this way in the last days. I mean, it shouldn't surprise me. What are our days in the woods for? I can tell myself something about finding new places to hunt as often as I want to, those days are just for fun. That's the reason I like them so much, isn't it?
"Um, yeah, why not? Actually I was looking for you, too." Should I tell him about my real intentions? No. It's too early. I'll just wait until we get at the topic again. And knowing us, we will.
Peeta smiles. "Well, that's what I call coincidence. Then how about we just spend the day together?"
"Yeah, that'd be nice. But we can't leave the district today. The fence is live today." That's indeed true. When I tried to go hunting today I couldn't. That's the main reason I thought about questioning Peeta. And that today is the limit of my self-put time.
He looks a bit disappointed. I understand him. The woods are a wonderful place to spend the day, but if we can't…where else can we go? Where else is any kind of beauty? "The meadow!"
I didn't realize I said it out aloud until Peeta asks: "What?" "The meadow. That's where we can go. It's the most similar to the woods and the best place I can think of." I mean, what else can we do? Window shopping?
Peeta has no better idea, so we spend the first few hours at the meadow, watching cloud pictures. It's a silly but funny game, one I used to play with my father.
When we both start seeing food like berries, bread or even a squirrel, we decide it's time to eat. I run home and take a bit self-made bread and we gather a few berries and apples. After we've had our picnic, he smiles. "So, you didn't tell me the reason you were looking for me a few hours ago. Or is there a reason?"
I swallow. Oh well, here I go. Now would be the perfect time to lie and say there isn't any reason. And with that I didn't have to ask him. Asking him makes somehow that nervousness come up again. But I also feel the urge to ask him and now is the perfect time for that, too. So I swallow again and decide to just do it.
"Yes, there is. I…I wanted to ask you some questions. You…you confused me and I just…" I trail off. I don't know how to ask that. The last time I wanted to ask him something was when I didn't understand his thoughts about the games. And back then he got me under some kind of trance and I was blabbering.
But this question is much more private and complex. And I don't really know where to start.
"Want answers?" He completes my sentence. I nod. Why couldn't I say that.
He sighs. "What are your questions?" That's it. My chance. He doesn't seem that reluctant to give me my answers at the moment.
So I start asking: "Okay. You…last week you said something and when I asked you about it you said I don't want to know! But I did! And before that you said you wouldn't be able to provide your family, something about not being strong enough!"
While I talk I feel more questions, questions I thought I had forgotten coming up. "You drew me and you captured everything perfectly. And that was only two weeks after we had first talked to each other. You were looking at me at school before. I thought it was because of the bread, but I'm not sure about that now. You were nice to me, even though you knew I could have been very impolite. And I would have, if it wasn't for the bread. When I decided to take you out into the woods, I wanted to figure you out. And what do you do? You confuse me even more! Why did you give me that bread? I believe, no, I know you have a good heart and I know that's a reason but still…And I know you said it was because of your father loving my mother, but wouldn't your father have tried to help us in that case?
Peeta I know this may sound stupid, but I feel as though…there's something missing, some piece in the puzzle. And I can't understand what it is. When you told me what you think about the Games out in the woods I thought I was a step closer to the answer. But I wasn't. I understand how you think now, but there's still something I don't know…and this is driving me crazy, because it seems to become clearer and clearer and I still can't wrap my mind around it."
After I've said so much I need a short break to catch my breath. And Peeta seems as though he needed some time to digest everything I said. I can't blame him. I think I need that time myself.
I didn't know I had so many questions. And this thing with the puzzle…it only occurred to me while talking. I don't know where that came from. But I think this is right, this suspicion. Also for some unknown reason, I feel lighter now, it's as if some weight I didn't know I felt had been lifted off my shoulders .
However, Peeta doesn't look very relieved, in fact he seems rather burdened now.
"Oh. I hadn't realized I…I said so many things to confuse you. I'm sorry. But I don't really know how to answer your questions. I…" I cut him off. "So there are answers?"
If there is an answer, I want to know it. And he can tell me. He is my friend, after all. And he sighs. "Yes. But…I told you you don't want to know. Believe me."
Obviously I didn't make it clear that I do indeed want to know. "Yes I do. Peeta it can't that bad. I mean, what is the worst thing that could happen?"
His voice is deeper now. "I don't know. You could hate me. Or never want anything to do with me. I don't know." What? Now he makes me really curious. I mean…at the moment I can't imagine to hate him. What would his answer be that he thinks I wouldn't want to see him again?
My voice has a serious tone now, just like his. "Why? I can't…I mean, why should I hate you? Whatever you're hiding, it can't be that bad! You…you aren't Snow's son or something, are you?" Who knows? I mean, that would be a reason to hate him. But really, I can't imagine that's the answer.
Peeta actually laughs, but it's a nervous laugh. "No, it's not THAT bad. Well, I don't think it's bad at all, you just won't…like it."
I roll my eyes. "I won't like it. You don't even know if I won'T like it. But whatever it is, I'm sure I can live with it. Come on, try!" "Katniss I..." He tries to chsnge the subject, I know it.
"No! Peeta, whatever it is, I want to know! So tell me!" I'm getting impatient now.
He seems still hesitant, his head down. I reach forward and tilt it up with my hand, focing him to look me into the eyes. It seems to have an effect on him, because he sighs.
Peeta then picks a dandelion. "What do you...?" I'm cut off by him starting to talk: "Do you see this flower?" I nod. Where is he going with this? "What do you think of when you see it?" Though I don't understand what this has to do with my questions, that's a good question, one I want to answer. Usually, that reminds me of him and it does today, too. But it also reminds me of something else, now that he asks.
"My father once told me that dandelions make wishes come true. When you blow the parachutes. My dad was always right, you know? But not with this. Nothing can make wishes come true. Even a dandelion can't."
I remember the dandelion I picked, right after Peeta's and my eyes met in the school yard. The bright yellow. How could it make wishes come true when it became gray, when it became a blowball?
"Even?" he asks. I didn't notice I said that even. That must be because of him.
"When we first out here, you drew a picture of me holding a dandelion. That was when I noticed how well you could draw me." I added this because I had in no way forgotten about my questions. "I asked you why I had been holding this flower. You answered that it had been a dandelion because it had been the flower I picked this day five years ago." He knows what day I'm talking about. "I told you how I remembered how to survive. What I didn't tell you…from that day, there was a connection. Between you and the bread of course. But also between you and that dandelion. From this day, I saw you as the boy with the bread. And as a dandelion."
He smiles a heart-melting smile. What is so special about this? Not that I mind... "You said wishes don't come true with dandelions. But wasn't it your wish to keep your family alive?"
"Yes, it was. But where is the connection?" Where is he going with this? Does he want to say he gave me the bread because of some...family feelings?
"You said I am like a dandelion for you. You said I am the boy with the bread for you. So what if the breads where my parachutes? Most parachutes fly away when you blow them, that's right. But a few fly to your nose, your cheeks or your hands. And this were the two loaves of bread you got. The parachutes you blew with your need."
Usually, this would upset me. That he makes me seem weak. Even if I was back then.
But at the moment, I'm just to caught up in the picture in my head. A beautiful picture. A picture that seems to be answering the bread-question...in some way I can't understand right now. And maybe, while answering this one and if I was right with my puzzle, it's also answering the other ones. Again, he didn't need his pencil to create a masterpiece. He did it with his words. He really does have a way with words. What he said makes sense. Though it sounds like a dream, a wish, I understand it. What he said… it seems right.
"Maybe. But…that was one time. I mean, it won't work always, would it? One dandelion one wish! And...how would that answer anything?"
I'm talking about him now. I'm drawing in his own picture. Though it does seem to become the answer, I'm still too confused to understand. And besides that, he can't always make my wishes come true. Those things I wish, I mean. Like escaping in a different world. Where I don't need to worry, because there are no Hunger Games. This is an old dream, one I had before my father died, one that stuck. It's the only thing I want.
He takes my hand. I may have found this strange if he had done this in any other moment, but right now I'm to concentrated, to curious for his answer . "You're going to know soon. And yes, you're right, one dandelion one wish. But what happens to the parachutes that don't come back to you?"
I answer him, though I still don't know where he is going with this: "They fly away and land somewhere else."
He nods. "Right, they do. And where they land will grow another dandelion, waiting to be needed. A dandelion never really dies. As long as there's one parachute left, one that lands and grows, a dandelion will live, too. Rebirth, you know? It's as though it will always be born again, waiting for someone who needs it." He says, turning the flower to and fro. His eyes bore into mine again, the way they did two weeks ago. The way that makes me talk.
Is he waiting for someone to need him? Is that, in some strange way the answer? "Are you waiting?" I ask him, taking a step closer.
For some unknown reason, there's something about this moment, about him and his eyes, drawing me closer. He takes my second hand with his, the one with the flower.
"Yes. I am." The way he says it, it sounds like he is waiting for a special person to need him. With a special expression on his face and a voice I can't describe. Not deep, no, but with a depth in it. He makes me take dandelion with a squeeze of his hand and I don't refuse. I may not need him like I did when he gave me the bread. But I don't want to loose him.
"Are you waiting for me?" I know the answer, but I need to hear it.
"Yes." He answers again. His voice is barely above a whisper now. And I don't want an explanation. I don't need one. This is the last step before the final answer.
Because now, at this moment, on this meadow, with our hands intertwined, I feel how his face comes closer to mine, so our foreheads are touching. My mind is screaming 'run away'. I hear Gale's words again. I remember how he kissed me. I remember my resolutions, my thoughts about these kind of things.
But when Peeta's lips touch mine, I don't care. I forget everything that was on my mind and for once, I don't listen to what it is telling me.
All I care about, all I can concentrate on, are his lips on mine, warm and gentle. And while they move, I feel a stirring inside my chest. A warmth, something I've never felt before. Overwhelmed by this feeling, I kiss him back.
It's not like when Gale kissed me. Back then, I thought there should be something I feel, anything. Back then, I thought that maybe I just didn't want to feel anything.
But right now, at this very moment, I know I couldn't not feel it. It's a warmth, filling me, making me feel hope and freedom. Making me feel a way I've never felt before. Like this is right, this sweet, gentle moment. Like I can just forget and live.
When we pull away he has a smile on his lips and his eyes sparkle. I think I must have a similar expression on my face, at least that's what it feels like. Yes, this is the answer. This is what he didn't want to tell me.
And with that thought everything comes rushing back to me. Everything that led to this and everything I thought before. I realize what I have just done. And now I know why he didn't want to tell me. It's because of my reaction.
Oh Katniss. This is what happens if you ask the wrong questions and get too caught up in the moment:) Even to her. Remember, even Katniss is just a teenage girl:D No seriously, she is, so forgive me if you think that was too early (though it did take them about nine months). And Peeta is only seventeen, too. What was he supposed to do when she wouldn't drop it? I thought it was the best way to answer...and Peeta and Katniss have to complicated...otherwise it wouldn't be them:)
I hope you like it! I found this chapter fitting for Christmas…the celebration of love! Even if the ending is...oh well.
And do you know what you can do to give me a little present, one that will make my day? Leave me a Review! When I come home again I'd love to find your reviews!
So please write me one! I wish you a Merry Christmas again, and a Happy New Year!