A/N: 3/3 for Peeta's chapters. Epilogue is next! Thank you to louezem for betaing, as always :)
Chapter 11
It's finally here. After months and months of hard work, it's here. My exhibition. I've never been so stressed or so relieved in my entire life. Katniss can probably feel the tension rolling off me in waves. Everyone within a fifty-yard radius can feel it. Katniss tries to get me to calm down. I think she's afraid of me retreating back into myself and causing our relationship to struggle again. I'm not going to abandon her, but her fears are justified. This time I'm focusing on her and listening to her when she's annoyed or angry or just tired. That's something she's learning as well; to speak her mind.
"Don't do this again," she murmurs, leaning against me as we sit on the couch, dipping her head to rest it on my shoulder. "Don't block me out. I'm trying to stop you from having a brain aneurysm."
"You're right. I'm sorry," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. She takes away everything that's distracting me: my phone, iPad and notebook and forces me to sleep, massaging my shoulders and singing softly until I let sleep pull me under. Any respite from the hurricane of thoughts whirling around in my head is welcomed.
And then suddenly it's the day and Katniss and I are on our way to the Heavensbee Gallery on the other side of the city and I can't stop worrying about whether everything is set up. I was assured three hours ago that the event was ready to go ahead, but I'm still panicking. This is so important. It has to be right.
"Are you sure everything is ready?" I ask the curator of the Gallery. Katniss rolls her eyes. "Is the lighting correct? Has 3B been placed in the blue room?"
Katniss takes my phone from me once the call is over and puts it in her purse. "Please take a deep breath and smile. You'll pass out on the carpet if you keep forgetting to breathe," she advises me, leaning over to fix my tie.
"I know, I know. I just want everything-"
"-to be perfect, right down to the angle of the lights in room 3, and the shadow placement in 5," she finishes for me, causing me to smile weakly. "Peeta. It's going to be okay. It's going to amazing."
"Promise?"
"Hey, I'm in it. It's not going to be anything less," she smirks, kissing me. "Jo will kill you if you have a meltdown in front of so many people."
I tug at my collar. Is it hot in here? "That's a reassuring thought."
Thankfully the evening goes smoothly. Katniss and I smile at the cameras and I'm asked endless questions about my artwork. It feels great to just be able to talk and talk and talk and let everything out. Katniss stands to the side, smiling at me the entire time, breath-taking in her dress. It accentuates her curves just enough for her to remain comfortable. I know she doesn't like skimpy outfits. This dress is perfect. She's perfect.
I'm presented two awards, one for an Outstanding Contribution to the 21st Century Art Scene and another naming me Artist of the City. I'm overwhelmed. Never in a million years did I think I'd be awarded with such distinguished trophies. It feels like a triumphant fuck you to my mother.
None of my family members turned up tonight. I rang the bakery three weeks ago and left a message, inviting them along, but never got a reply. It hurt more than I'd like to admit. I at least expected my father to respond, even if it was only to apologise that they couldn't make it. Mom probably deleted my voicemail before he even knew it existed.
My legs are jelly when I'm called up for a speech, and I almost drop my cue cards before shoving them in my pocket. I can speak from the heart. That's what matters, right? I look out into the crowd of nameless faces, flashing cameras and microphones, and take a deep breath.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," I begin, clutching my awards tightly. "Thank you all for coming tonight. It means the world to me that so many of you are willing to come and see little old me and my work, even more so that you deem it good enough to be given awards!" The crowd thankfully chuckles, and I relax a little. "This is the product of months and months of hard work. I couldn't have done any of this without some very important people. Firstly, I'd like to thank Johanna Mason; for putting up with me, for guiding me, and for kicking ass even when I didn't think I needed an ass-kicking,"
"You always need an ass-kicking!" Jo cries out. I roll my eyes and laugh.
"Thank you to Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair, who are a seamless duo that I couldn't live without. You know how valued you have been and will always be to me, in my work and in my day-to-day life," Annie and Finn grin up at me from the crowd. I search for Katniss in the crowd and lock eyes with her. Even through the glare of the lights shining down on me I can see the silver depths of her eyes, pulling me to her like a star would a planet. "And finally, I would like to thank Katniss Everdeen. She and I haven't had the smoothest of roads, but I'd go through all of it again if it meant getting what we have now. She's my other half, my rock, and I couldn't live without her."
Katniss blushes, the redness in her cheeks visible from here, and blows me a kiss. I thank the audience once again and then practically trip off stage and towards her, gathering her up in my arms and kissing her properly, moulding her body to mine.
"I mean it. I can't live without you, Kat," I say truthfully, and she smiles against my mouth.
"I'm going to be here for a long while yet," she says quietly. "Congratulations. This is amazing."
I look down at her, wanting an honest reaction. "You really think people are liking it?"
"People willing to buy your work for ridiculous amounts. I think they like it," she promises, kissing me once more, and then we're pulled apart so I can answer more questions. I glance over at Katniss periodically, searching for the piercing grey eyes among the sea of strangers. Haymitch walks over to her and they start talking, but I don't know what they're saying. Haymitch is chuckling, which can't be a good sign.
Thankfully, Katniss smiles at me when Haymitch wanders off, which means he hasn't wound her up like he does Jo. I feel my pulse quicken as she slinks away, further into the gallery, further away from me. I can still feel her pull. She's a like a storm. Exhilarating but deadly. And I've never been so happy to be completely at her mercy.
I feel like I'm about to pass out. Like, I'll climb out of this car, take one step forward, and then fall like a felled tree, down, down, down onto the gravel.
I've been filled with nervous anticipation about today ever since I was invited. Of course, I always planned on going. Fenton is my brother after all, and I don't want to miss out on one of the best days of his life. Mom would never let me forget the day I 'skipped your brother's wedding – your brother, your oldest brother – to instead go and sit by yourself and play with your paint set'. As if her badgering wouldn't make me feel even worse, I want to see Fenton on such a happy day. I've met Cassandra a few times before, and she seems to make Fen happy, so I guess that's all that matters. Not whether I stay for the entire thing, but that he's alright with giving his name to this woman.
Katniss's fingers tightening around mine seem to wake me up out of my trance. I blink, my eyes sliding back into focus, and swallow hard, watching the other guests filtering in. Katniss. I forget that she's actually here with me sometimes, anchoring me, making me feel stable despite the churning waves around me. My eyes flit to her hand in mine, up her arm, and to her face. She stares out the windscreen at the church, looking slightly less anxious than I feel, but anxious nevertheless.
"You sure you want to do this?" she asks, and I look back at the wedding venue. It's a damn beautiful place. I'm kind of offended that I didn't get to be the photographer at this shindig, though I fully understand why I wasn't asked, given the stellar amount of communication between myself and my brothers. I can already see the shots I'd want. Some of the bride and groom beneath the trees, bathed in dappled sunlight. Some of the church, of the bell glinting, of the architecture clashing against the modernity of the wedding party. I spot Rye's car off to the left, and smirk at the rusting paint job.
I attempt to lighten the mood. "How can you sound more hesitant to go in then I do?" I ask Katniss, laughing a little, the sound coming out strained and squeaky. She looks across at me, narrowing her eyes slightly, examining my face. She can read me like a book sometimes. It certainly feels like she is, peeling back layers upon layers of my soul and putting everything stuck inside my head into something comprehensible.
Her lips twitch into a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "If you want to leave, just tell me, and I'll say I'm feeling unwell," she offers, her grip on my hand tightening. "Blame it on whatever food is in there."
"Noted, but I think it'll be okay," I say, grimacing slightly. "I can be civil with my mother and then ignore her, and my dad and brothers aren't that bad-"
Katniss raises a single eyebrow, and I trail off, stopping that train of thought before it derails and makes a mess.
"Okay… we'll leave before anyone gets drunk and starts fighting," I tell her, only half joking. I think she can tell.
We climb out of the car and smooth down our clothes, checking we look presentable, and then make our way into the church. Katniss doesn't let go of my clammy hand the entire way, and bats my hands away from my tie when my fingers creep upwards to tug at it. The closer we get to the great mahogany doors of the church, the more nervous I get. I ball my free hand into a fist and take a few deep breaths. I'll be fine. Mom won't make a scene in front of all these guests. It'll be fine.
Katniss and I find our seats fairly quickly. We're sat sort of near to the front, but there's two rows between where we sit and where the rest of my immediate family sits. It's a clear boundary, a gaping, very noticeable mark, but no one says anything. Katniss looks pissed off though, her eyes holding the scowl she so desperately wants to unleash, but is keeping reigned in for the ceremony. I spot a few relatives I haven't seen since I was a kid, but none of them make any move to greet me, or even acknowledge that I'm there. I can only imagine what Mom has been saying to them behind my back.
To my surprise, Dad comes over to say hello. He smiles brightly at Katniss, taking her hand, telling her how glad he is to see her, and my heart swells at how genuine he is. He's still quiet, but he's showing more affection than I expected
"It's great to see you two here," he smiles.
"We're honoured to have been invited," Katniss replies.
"Peeta," he says, turning to me. Katniss looks away, giving us as much privacy as she can, but Dad still shuffles me down the aisle, a light hand on my shoulder, unsure of whether he should touch me at all or slap me on the shoulder, just like ol' times.
"Dad," I reply, shoving my hands into my pockets. "How have you been?"
"Oh, good. Fine, really. Your mother didn't tell me if you'd be here or not. I'm glad you are, though. It's great to see you."
"I wasn't going to miss Fen's wedding."
"Ah, no, of course not," he chuckles, looking away at some imaginary sound. He looks back at me, and smiles. "How are you, son? You look well."
"I'm okay. Went through a rough patch. Katniss helped me out of it."
"Oh, good. Good, good, good."
"Yes."
"Katniss seems like a lovely girl, still, after so long."
"She is."
He presses his lips together, floundering. I know I'm not making much effort to prolong this conversation, but I think he's secretly grateful. We've gone so long without talking to each other that we don't really have much to say, and it's painfully obvious.
"Uh, what, uh, rough patch was this?" he asks.
"Just… general life. I'm seeing a therapist now. He's helped a lot to sort out my head."
Dad blinks, obviously surprised. He always acted oblivious to Mom's drinking, and in turn, mine, but I don't think he was really aware of the toll it took on me. That his distance paired with Mom's 'troubles' left me stranded.
"I'm okay, Dad. Don't worry about me, okay?"
"I do, Peet," he says quietly. "I do worry. Keep in touch, alright? I'd love to hear more about you and Katniss."
"Will do," I nod, shifting away, down the aisle. His hands lift briefly as if to hug me, and then thinks better of it, and moves to talk to someone else. I retreat to Katniss and slump back against the mahogany pew, releasing a breath. That went better than I expected.
Mom doesn't make any move to say hello. She looks over in my direction, her eyes sharp slits, her hair pulled back, her lips a firm, unforgiving line.
Rye saunters towards us, his hair scraped back no doubt under Mom's orders. The rose pinned to his lapel can't sweeten him at all. He cracks his gum and rocks on his heels as he stands in front of us.
"Peet, Everdeen," he greets. "Isn't it about time you two got hitched?"
I feel Katniss stiffen beside me, and force myself to speak. Rye doesn't scare me the slightest. He may be an irresponsible, sarcastic dick most of the time, but he's not that bad. And he doesn't know what's happened during the past two years, so I can't blame him for putting two and two together.
"Actually, no," I say, my voice stronger than I expected it to be but still wavering a little, not under the scrutiny of my brother though, but by his assumption that we'd be married, when in reality, that's the last thing currently on my mind. Katniss loops her arm around my waist. "We've only just got back together, actually."
"Shit, what happened?" he asks, his eyes widening.
"You would know if you had answered my calls during the past few years," I tell him, putting this all on him. That's one of the things Dr Aurelius has advised me to do. To not put all the blame on myself, to realise when my efforts have been met with blank walls.
"I text you all the time," Rye snorts.
"I text you. You reply when you feel like it."
"I'm busy!" he cries, and I roll my eyes. I can only imagine what his idea of busy is.
Katniss hastily interjects before I can say anything in return. "I think the ceremony is about to begin," she says. "It was great talking to you Rye."
Rye eyes her, looking slightly impressed. "Yeah, you too." He walks away, returning to the altar to stand beside Fenton, nudging him and saying something that causes Fen to turn around and wave. He looks nervous, but happy to see me.
"I don't blame him," I comment, leaning back, watching Fen shake out his arms. "I'd be shaking if I was marrying into Cassandra's family. They're very traditional. And being a video game designer isn't a job they'd find 'adult' enough, no matter how much money he earns."
That's something that irritates me. Fen and I have both ended up in artistic careers, but Fen is the favoured one. It makes no sense. He earns a much steadier wage than I do, but still, I'm in the same boat as he is.
The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch, and Fenton and Cassandra look ecstatic as they leave the church as man and wife. Confetti rains down as they walk through the crowds of guests, and I look down at Katniss. I don't know if she realises it or not, but she's smiling. A real, happy smile, as she watches the newly-weds approach their getaway car. She looks deep in thought as well, but those thoughts clearly aren't bothering her given her relaxed expression. I look away and to my brother and his bride, and sigh, feeling a weight being lifted from my shoulders. A smile graces my lips too. That could be me one day, married to Katniss. My smile widens.
The drive to the wedding reception is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Katniss kicks off her shoes as soon as we start driving, rubbing her feet, and checks her reflection in the mirror more than once. I know she wants to make a good impression on my behalf. It's a humbling thought that she wants to be by my side throughout this entire thing.
When we arrive, I jump out and pull open Katniss' door for her, taking her hand in mine. I pull her close to me, feeling the chill of the evening through my jacket. Katniss sighs. I press a kiss to her temple, hugging her even tighter to my side, feeling her warmth seeping into my very bones.
God, I love this woman.
Enough to want to marry her one day? Definitely. I know we agreed to take it slow, to feel our way forward and not leap into the unknown, to hold each other's hands to keep our balance, to speak up when we feel unsteady, but that is a point I can't wait to get to. Seeing her beside me, dressed in white, with a ring on her finger and my name as hers – it would be a dream come true.
Dr Aurelius told me that I had to stop worrying about the future. If you always spend your time focusing on the future, on tomorrow, you'll miss out on the now. And why should you prepare for tomorrow? Tomorrow hasn't prepared for you. Just live in the now, and let things happen the way they should. That's a terrifying thought, but it's true. The echoes of my upbringing still ring loud and clear in my mind, but I'm learning to block them out. The echoes are fading after so long of bouncing around in my head with no way out.
For now, I'm happy. I'm more than happy. I'm more than I can even describe. More than I can even try to paint or photograph. It's unexplainable, and I'm fine with that. Explaining it would take away the feeling I get when I come home and find Katniss sat on the couch watching Netflix. The feeling I get when I wake up with her beside me. That feeling I get when I'm just beside her. I don't want to explain it away, so I'll leave it be. It's one of the mysteries of life. Sometimes it take a lot of courage to believe in what will be, to ignore what could've been. To live in the moment is a lot less stressful that always looking over your shoulder. Living in the moment means Katniss is here, and that's all I need.
Katniss is my own personal work of art. One I don't need to alter. People always say that it isn't what art is that matters, it's how it makes you feel.
And right now, I'm feeling pretty damn good.
