July, and the week I've been dreading, creep up on me. It's difficult keeping track of the days now; for the moment, there isn't any official workforce, and although Peeta and I have a routine worked out, it doesn't change from day to day. I don't even realise the date until Peeta wakes up from a nightmare one night involving the reaping. He doesn't talk about it, but I check the calendar he insists on keeping in the kitchen the next morning and sure enough, it is the Monday of what would before have been the week of the Reaping. Peeta and I make a point to not be alone – I hunt in the morning and he accompanies me, picking summer fruits that are blooming all over the woods. In the afternoon he bakes or paints back at my house and I'm happy to simply watch. In the evenings we retreat to the sofa and Peeta watches the TV whilst I rest my head on his shoulder or we play games of 'Real or Not Real'. His presence comforts me, particularly at night, my nightmares worse than usual.
The day before, we arrive back home from the woods and resume our routine - Peeta prepares lunch whilst I check the mail and sort through which game to keep for ourselves and which to trade in town. I don't normally look too closely at the mail; just flick through and leave them on the table. However today I find one with Annie's handwriting on the envelope, and rush back to the kitchen waving it at Peeta. He pauses what he was doing and leans over as I open it. We haven't heard from Annie in a while and I'd begun to worry.
There was no need apparently – Annie states she's well and healthy and so is her newborn son. She had him at the weekend and sent the letter as soon as she felt well and had a spare moment. She doesn't go into too much detail, saying the staff in the hospital were wonderful and that the labour didn't last too long, that Finn came out to be a healthy 7 pounds and 4 ounces. She's enclosed a picture of her holding him that Peeta and I inspect closely.
"He looks just like him," I say quietly, and he does. His hair for now is dark, but that could easily fall out and come back bronze. His eyes are Finnick's precisely, in shape and colour, and his nose and mouth are an exact replica. "I can't decide if it's a good or a bad thing."
"I think good," Peeta replies. "Annie's still got a part of him alive in her son. It will hurt sometimes, but I reckon it's a good thing in the long run." I nod in response, tears filling my eyes. Peeta wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my temple. We're quiet for a moment, in remembrance of our friend now gone.
Peeta loosens his grip on me after about a minute. "I'll go make lunch," he says quietly. I nod as his arms fall from around me and he moves away. I continue to read the last few lines of Annie's letter which make my stomach turn. She mentions seeing my mother at the hospital, passing on the message that she'd like to talk to me or perhaps see me. I scan Annie's last sentence, wishing Peeta and I well, particularly this week, and walk straight out of the kitchen. I want to run out of the house, hide under the covers of my bed or curl up in the bathroom, but I know this will distress Peeta to no end which is the last thing he needs. I sit on the sofa and stare into the distance until he comes in with lunch on a tray for me, some salad using the berries he picked this morning. I expect Peeta to pry straight away on my odd behaviour, but he leaves it until I've finished eating. When he asks I don't respond, just point to the kitchen counter in the next room. He fetches the letter and comes back, reading through the whole letter, his expression changing to one of understanding as he reads the last few lines. I bury my face in his shoulder as reads and works out my response. He tries to coax me out but I stay firmly put.
"Katniss, you should reply with some response, even if it's a no."
"I can't" I say, shaking my head. The tears from earlier come full force now. "I just can't Peeta. Not after everything."
"You don't have to explain," he says, holding me close. "But she is trying. You have to give her that."
"But it's too late. She always does this. Tries to make up for what she does when it's too late."
There's a small pause, "At least she tries at all." He doesn't say it in a sad way, more matter-of-fact. Peeta has always talked about his mother's treatment of him in this way, but it still makes me feel awful.
I pull my head away from his now damp shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm acting childish."
"It's okay." He gives me a small smile. "You're entitled to sometimes."
"I just can't. Not right now."
"But maybe sometime in the reasonably near future?" He persists.
I bite my lip absentmindedly, "Maybe."
"Then write that," he says, shrugging and giving me a small smile like it's the easiest thing in the world. He knows it isn't, but he's trying to make this easier for me, and I appreciate it.
"Thank you," I say into his shoulder.
"Anytime."
The next day, Peeta is in particularly good spirits. By the time I wake up he's already got up and made me breakfast to have in bed. At first I'm just happy he's in such a good mood, as the days when he is are so few. When we go to the woods in the morning he walks with a spring in his step, whistling whilst he picks berries and taking my hand and twirling me around randomly. Whilst we've been more affectionate of late than before, this takes me by surprise. He even suggests we go to the lake after I've mostly finished hunting, which is odd since he's avoided the lake since his episode there.
"Peeta, what's going on?" I ask after he poses this question.
"Nothing," he says indignantly. Peeta is a good liar but we've spent far too much time with each other for him to get past me. I cross my arms and look at him pointedly. He tries to stare me out but I'm far more stubborn than he is and he breaks soon enough.
"Okay, okay," he says. "There is something."
"Something?"
He sighs, "In town. They're doing a little celebration thing. Mostly for the children. Because it's the first year without… you know."
I find it difficult to believe that Peeta Mellark is having difficulty getting his words out, although since his hijacking he hasn't been so good, and he has a particularly nervous air about him.
"And…?"
"Well I was thinking we could go." He says, "And before you say what you're going to say, it's not even an official thing. No cameras, no big celebration, none of that. It's just to cheer people up mostly."
I'm struggling to argue with that excited spark in his eye, "We don't have to stay for long. Just go and see what's going on and then if you feel uncomfortable we can go straight home. I Promise."
I leave him hanging for a moment but then let out an exasperated sigh that we both know means 'okay'. His face lights up in a way I haven't seen since before he was hijacked and I wonder why he's so eager to go. I don't pry though; it's nice just to see him like this. He threads his fingers through mine and we head down to the lake together.
We go to my usual place, near the house. The summer heat is relentless and I almost immediately head into the lake. Peeta stays on the bank, lying in the sun and watching me lazily. I swim to the other side and back a few times before I notice he's approached the bank, his feet dipped into the water, the sun reflecting slightly off of his artificial leg.
"You want to come in?" I ask. He nods and slowly edges into the water. At this point even I can touch the floor and after a few seconds I see Peeta relax. We take it slow, sticking to the shallow edge of the lake where Peeta can touch the floor easily if he still wants to. By the end he's almost mastered the arm movements, but his bad leg holds him back slightly.
"It's okay, we can come back again and practice some more," I reassure him. He looks much happier than he did last time. We lie on the bank whilst we dry off, and Peeta begins to doze. The sun glaring down on us make his curls shine a golden colour, his skin showing a slight tan. He looks so healthy and calm; a million miles from the boy I found waiting for me in the hospital back in 13.
We head back around mid-afternoon, the walk making us particularly hot and sweaty by the time we arrive back home. Peeta goes back to his house to shower and I take a bath in mine. I stay in for quite a long time, folding the water through my hands. I don't realise how long I've been until I hear Peeta coming in through the back door and calling my name. I normally don't spend too much time in the bath or shower and so I extract myself from the water, calling out so he knows where I am and doesn't panic. I dry myself off and throw on a robe, leaving my hair to dry loose. I find Peeta sitting on my bed, dressed in a reasonably smart shirt and clean trousers.
"Am I supposed to dress up?" I ask.
"Not particularly. Wear whatever you want. It's just; well we don't normally have a reason to do we?"
He has a point, and I go through my 'safe' wardrobe – otherwise known as the wardrobe not containing a single item of clothing made or worn by someone I love that is dead. I manage to put together a dark blue skirt that comes to my ankles that was once my mothers and a soft cream blouse that I didn't even know existed. I put my hair back up in its usual braid and find some soft black shoes that I used to wear to school.
Peeta's made some soup whilst I've been getting ready, which we quickly eat before setting off. The sun is beginning to sink to the west as we walk hand in hand down the path that connects the Victors Village to the main town. Whilst we've not exactly kept our arrangement a secret, very few people know, aside from Haymitch, as we hardly ever go to town together. I'd rather keep it that way too, but right now the feel of his hand in mine and the steadiness that is keeping me calm is too good to let go of.
We reach what used to be the town square, cleared now of rubble, and instead filled with an area strung off where the town fiddler, who played at Finnick and Annie's wedding, is playing out a tune and children are singing and dancing. There are benches in a few rows circled around the area with people watching and laughing, clapping along to the music. Peeta and I slip into the farthest back bench and I settle beside him, not focusing on the music but my surroundings. How the buildings used to stand tall, how only two years ago Effie Trinket stood on a stage that would've been to my right and pulled my little sister's name, one in thousands, out of the reaping bowl, how Peeta's family bakery used to stand to my left and he is the only remnant left of it.
"Katniss," I hear him whisper beside me. "Katniss, look at me."
It's only moving my position that I realise that I'm shaking violently. I stare up into blue eyes, clear as the summer sky earlier, and use them as something to hold on to. I focus on breathing, in, out, in, out. Eventually the sounds that I had blocked out come back to me, I realise he's drawling lines in my hands, our way of comforting each other. I keep my eyes facing him for a while long until I'm ready, and then look to the children dancing, making sure to keep my eyes away from the cleared rubble surrounding me.
"What happened?" he asks. He's now rubbing soothing circles into my back.
"It all just sort of overwhelmed me," I reply. "How much has changed."
He doesn't reply, but follows me gaze to the dancing circle, squeezing my hand. I'm not sure how long we watch uninterrupted for but I feel myself relaxing. The music is familiar, comforting, and the sight of the children happy and dancing on what would normally be a day of turmoil lifts my spirit. Peeta hums along to the music, his good leg bouncing in time with the rhythm. Adults start to join their children in the festivities, but Peeta and I stay in the shadows, inconspicuous. Or so we thought.
"Katniss!?" I hear a voice I recognise not too far away and footsteps heading toward us. I lift my head to see Leevy, a girl I lived close to in the Seam, heading towards Peeta and me. I give her a small wave and she sits beside me, so I am wedged between her and Peeta. "I haven't seen you around much recently!"
"I've been around. Doing this and that, hunting, you know," she nods.
"How're you Peeta?"
"Not so bad," he says warmly. "Recovering, slowly."
"We all are," she says, gesturing broadly to the area of festivity.
"Who're you here with?" Peeta asks politely.
"My brother, and a … friend," her smile after saying the word 'friend' indicates there is more to the relationship than meets the eye. But I understand – I wouldn't even know how to describe mine and Peeta's relationship. "I think it's lovely they've organised this. I mean it's not much, it's not even official but it's something."
"I agree," Peeta replies, "Have fun tonight Leevy."
"You too," she says to the both of us, waving and heading back to the dancing. We stay a little while longer, but we both begin to yawn and decide it would be best to start heading home. We stayed far longer than I anticipated and after hunting and swimming today and then this, I feel physically and emotionally drained. We wander back, hands intertwined in the moonlight.
"Are you feeling better?" Peeta asks, in reference to earlier.
"Yeah. It all just overwhelmed me, seeing the rubble and thinking of everything and everyone that used to be here. It's hard believing it's only been two years."
"I know. Call me cliché but it feels like a lifetime ago and only yesterday at the same time."
"That is a total cliché," I smirk. "But I know what you mean."
We walk in silence until we enter the Victors Village and approach my house, "So I guess you could say it's the two year anniversary of when we officially met," Peeta says to me. I roll my eyes
"I suppose if it's 'officially met' then yes. Not exactly under the best conditions though, I think I'd rather the bread."
He wrinkles his nose, "I don't think most of our relationship has been under the best conditions to be honest." I nod my head in agreement.
He turns to face me, taking both my hands in his. The moonlight has turned his hair and eyelashes a silvery blonde, casting a sheen over his visible scars, highlighting them, "I'm going to head back to mine, I need to grab a few things. I'll be back over soon though."
"Okay," I say, although I don't really want him to go, even if it is for twenty minutes, if that. We've been almost inseparable the past week, and it would feel odd now if he wasn't close by.
"Be back soon," he smiles, leaning down to, I assume, kiss my cheek. At the last second, I turn my head slightly and we kiss properly for the first time since back in the Capitol. Compared to most it's light and sweet, but Peeta lifts his head quickly, just enough to look me in the eyes. His expression is full of confusion. Is this okay?
I decide to ignore the sensible voice in my head, the one telling me this will just complicate things further, and instead give him his answer by standing on my toes, throwing my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his once more. This time he responds, one hand in my hair and the other holding me close. It hits me that all the events of the past few months had been leading to this; that after all we'd been through together we could never settle with being just friends. That my feelings for him, so strong in Thirteen when he'd been captured, had not gone away like I'd thought, but just been hiding away until now. I'm still not sure what they all mean, but I decide it's not worth worrying about, not right now.
Peeta is the first one to pull away, although from his heavy breathing it's obvious it was not exactly by choice that he did. Even so he doesn't move far; our foreheads are still pressed together, my arms still around his neck, tangled in his curls.
"You'll stay?" I ask. He looks surprised I'm even asking considering the last week, but humours me all the same.
"Course," he replies. "I can get my stuff tomorrow, don't worry." He leans down and kisses me once more, and then I untangle myself from him, save our entwined hands. I decide I won't let tonight's events worry for me now. There would be plenty of time for that tomorrow. For now, I let him lead me home.
A/N: At last! It had been a long time coming and I was excited to be able to finally write this :) Hope you guys enjoyed and please feedback - it's very much appreciated! - L xo