Hello again readers! First off, a huge apology for all these slow updates! Me and my boyfriend have been working a lot recently, so obviously on my days off i've been seeing him - unfortunately this meant no time for writing. I've mapped out what will happen in the next couple of chapters though so hopefully I can write a bit quicker! I did make this chapter a little longer as an apology ;)
Another quick note - my lovely beta reader is on holiday for a month. So i've had to beta this chapter myself (oh dear!) so a big apology in advance as my beta skills are very rusty. I am looking for a temporary beta, but I wanted someone who knew this story. So give me a message if you have experience and want to beta a couple of chapters (until my beta is back)
And back to normal... as always a HUGE thankyou to those that reviewed last chapter; glarkle, angels041630, jagger, amanda, scarwth, OJsmybestfriend, lhaine07, dancingintherayne and fyrebirdrises its so great to have such loyal fans and reviewers, and always great to see reviews from new people! Let me know what you think guys!
Right, no more rambling, happy reading!
Over the following weeks after that we wordlessly fell into a more reliable routine. Every night Peeta and I would share a bed - usually it would be at mine, but occasionally we would stop at his. Of course, our nightmares weren't gone - but they were few and far between, and now we never had to deal with them on our own. I kept to my word, calling Dr Aurelius most of the days I had a nightmare - even if our conversations only lasted for the duration of my explanation, it kept Peeta happy. In the morning we would go our separate ways - I would hunt and Peeta would bake. We'd find ourselves back together in the afternoon. Many of the days we went to help Haymitch with the geese, he was getting better with them - but would often forget to put the latch on the door and it would take hours for me and Peeta to round them up while he hollered from his porch. Dinner had become a more sociable affair - Sae would come round late morning to collect my haul from the woods, as well as Peeta's baked goods to take into town, and we'd often invite her round to eat with us on the evening. She'd try to convince us to take our own goods into town, but that was a daily journey neither of us was hasty to make. On the days she agreed, we'd extend our invitation to Haymitch, who normally threw it back in our face - only to turn up hours later demanding a plate of food. Luckily for him Peeta was too much of a soft touch not to save him any. On the days she declined, Peeta and I would enjoy the evening together, he often spent the hours sketching in his notepad. He hardly painted anymore, and didn't really talk about the subject when I mentioned it. I had begun reading, it started when I found my father's old plant book still stuffed under my bed from the times me and Peeta had been adding to it, back before the quarter quell had happened.
It was one of these nights when it was just the two of us, Peeta scribbling furiously in his notepad while I sat the other end of the sofa, my legs lying across the sofa and my feet tucked securely in his lap. I finished re-reading the plant book for what must've been the twentieth time and set it back down in my lap with a huff. Peeta eyed me suspiciously before chuckling lowly.
"What's up with you?" He asked, placing his pad face down against his chest.
"I need a hobby." I huffed. Peeta had baking and drawing, I simply hunted in the day and brooded once it got too dark.
Peeta laughed lightly, placing his hand on my leg and giving it a soft squeeze. "Why don't you add to that book, instead of just reading it?"
"There's nothing more to add." I frowned.
"Maybe you could start another book?"
"Like what?" I huffed, throwing my head back against the arm of the sofa. "I don't know about anything else."
"You know plenty Katniss, you're just being stubborn." He smirked at me before picking up his pencil to carry on with his sketch. "You could write one on hunting."
"Maybe," I grumbled, knowing I probably wouldn't. Hunting wasn't something I could explain or write about, it was something I felt on instinct. There was a reason some people had a knack for it, whereas others stomped through the woods like Peeta. I found myself smiling over at him as he got lost in his picture again.
"What are you drawing?" I asked softly, almost regretting it as he forced his eyes away from the paper. He opened his mouth slowly, as if trying to formulate the words. I frowned lightly, what was he drawing that he didn't want to tell me?
"It's nothing really," He mumbled, moments before the ringing of the phone broke through our conversation. "I'll get that," he practically leaped from the sofa, almost knocking me off in the process.
"Peeta!" I scowled at him as he hobbled away. He really needed a new prosthetic. His was causing him nothing but trouble.
I let my head rest on the arm on the sofa, listening in silence to Peeta's muffles through the wall. After a few minutes I huffed in frustration and sat up straight - clearly these homes were not built for eavesdropping. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Peeta's notepad, taking a quick peek towards the doorway, I picked it up from where he'd left it on the sofa.
I held my breath as I turned the pad over in my hands, not sure what to expect on the other side. I gasped as my eyes casted over Peeta's work. It was as if I were staring at a photograph, only in black and white. He'd started an image of his family's bakery. Instantly I recognised the counter with lines of cakes on display. Behind it he'd began to draw a man, although the details were yet to be added. From the height I assumed it would've been his father. Curiosity got the better of me, and soon I was flicking through the pages. Each picture caused my breath to hitch in my throat, they were unfinished but they were all there. All the people who we'd lost over the last couple of years, everyone we'd known and had been killed. I found myself mesmerised by one of the pictures - the blonde pigtails running over a little girls shoulder, but her face hadn't been filled in. I didn't need two guesses to know what it was a picture of. It was Prim on her first reaping day.
"Sorry about that, it was just Delly..." Peeta walked back into the room, but stopped talking once he saw what I was holding. "I didn't want you to see those." He murmured.
I looked up at him, only then feeling the wetness on my cheeks as the tears ran down to my chin. "Why not?" I frowned, looking back down at the picture of Prim. "They're beautiful, Peeta."
He rounded the sofa slowly before lowering himself back down onto it. "I didn't know if you'd like me drawing her."
I shook my head quickly, "I don't mind." I croaked, forcing myself to look away from the picture. "You drew them all."
"I tried." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I keep finding it hard to remember certain things about people, then I just give up before I ruined their memory."
I reached out to take his hand in mine, giving it a tight squeeze. "You could never do that."
"I can't even remember her face properly," He looked down at Prim's picture. "She helped me in Thirteen, and now I can't even do her memory justice."
"It's not just you." Peeta looked up at me in confusion. "I have trouble remembering too. I suppose that's what happens when you experience trauma like we have." Another tear ran down my face as the fear began to creep in. What if in a years' time neither of us could remember what our loved ones looked like? I looked down at Prim's empty face on the picture, desperately trying to fill in the gaps in my mind.
"That's why I wanted to draw them all, before I forgot. But I think it's too late."
We both sat for a moment, the silence hanging in the air thick with tension. Were we bad people for forgetting? Was I as bad as my mother? The woman who just ran away from her problems, and forgot about her daughters instead of facing them.
"I have an idea." I murmured after a while. "That's what we could start a book on."
Peeta looked at me for a while before a smile began to ghost his lips.
"You could draw them, everyone we've lost, and we'll write about them." I looked up at him, feeling a smile grow on my face. It was the first time in the last few months I truly felt motivated to do something. My hunting had become routine, this was something Peeta and I could do for ourselves.
"But what if I can never finish the drawings?" His eyes dropped into his lap.
"We can help each other fill in the blanks." I leant forward to cup his chin with my hand, forcing him to look at me. "They deserve to be remembered."
He nodded hastily, before reaching out to pull me into his side - burying his head into my hair as I curled up against him.
"You never fail to amaze me Katniss." He murmured.
I peered up at him and frowned, "you're the one with the amazing drawing skills."
"I meant how strong you are." He smiled softly, and I allowed him to pull me back against him - resting my head on his chest.
"Why was Delly ringing me?" I asked.
"She was looking for me." Peeta replied softly.
"Why was she ringing my phone if she wanted to speak to you?" I frowned.
"Oh, I told her if I don't answer my phone, I'd probably be round here." I felt his chuckle reverberate through his chest.
"What did she want?" I pushed, sensing Peeta's hesitation to give up the information.
"Well, she's decided on a date to come back..." He trailed off, earning a poke in the ribs from me. "Ouch! Alright," he laughed, snatching my hand up in his to protect himself. "She's managed to get tickets for her and her brother on the next delivery train. It's one of those direct ones so it'll only take a day to get here." I looked up at him, glaring at his attempt to avoid the answer. "She'll be here in two days."
"Two days!" I exclaimed, pushing myself from his chest and sitting upright facing him.
"I know it's soon. Apparently she needs to get back here to make some decisions on the store."
"She's reopening her parents store?" I frowned as Peeta nodded. "You never tell me anything." I huffed.
Peeta laughed, shaking his head lightly. "I didn't think you really cared what Delly did."
The truth was, I didn't. Delly was a nice enough girl, but we weren't friends. It only bothered me because I knew she was a good friend of Peeta's - who he'd obviously been talking to frequently. I sat for a moment without speaking, if Delly was going ahead with the rebuild of her families store, did that mean Peeta had been approached about the bakery? I knew Tom had suggested talking about it, but nothing serious had been mentioned.
"What about you?" I asked slowly.
Peeta frowned, "what about me?"
"If Delly's reopening her store, are you going to reopen the bakery?"
"It's not that simple Katniss," I was taken aback to hear the sharp edge in Peeta's voice, and before I had chance to say anymore - he'd already stood up and paced into the middle of the room.
"I didn't mean that, Peeta." I tried to keep my voice level. As much as I understood the subject was a touchy one for him, I didn't appreciate being kept in the dark. "I was only asking. I know it would be hard for you."
"Exactly, so maybe people should stop asking me when I plan on building on my parents ashes." With that he stormed out of the room, leaving me sat alone in front of the fire.
I didn't venture to find Peeta until a couple of hours later. I'd been tempted to run after him - having to fight back the urge for the first half hour after he left. But I knew this was something he preferred to face himself, and he hadn't seemed on the edge of an episode. I shrugged on my hunting jacket before venturing outside, surprised by how warm it was. The nights were slowly getting warmer, and summer was coming - finally seeing off the worst winter of my life. I began walking over to Peeta's house, narrowing my eyes at the darkness inside. I glanced over at Haymitch's, but decided against looking for him there.
When I reached Peeta's front door I realised it was slightly ajar. I froze, trying to hear for any signs of him inside - but was only answered with silence. I pushed the door open slowly, the creaking awkwardly breaking through the quiet.
"Peeta?" I called quietly, almost feeling out of place. I could barely see the end of the hallway with how dark the house was - the sun had already set for the day and none of the lights were on. It was unlike Peeta to sit in darkness, he had an awful habit of leaving the light on in every room he passed through. After quickly scanning the bottom floor, I assumed he must've been upstairs. I quickly leapt up the stairs, my feet barely grazing the wood.
I called his name again, answered by nothing but silence. But as I turned round I spotted a line of light coming from under the door of one of the spare rooms. I sighed as I realised where he was. Peeta had turned one of the rooms into his painting room a long time ago. His family had never moved into the Victors Village with him, so he'd had no trouble transforming the rooms for his own use. I had never been inside his studio, he often locked it, and even when he didn't I felt as though I would be trespassing on something personal of his.
I walked over to the door and knocked lightly, already regretting disturbing him. It had been so long since he painted, and he could easily paint for hours once something was on his mind.
"Peeta, I can see the light, I know you're in there." I called through the door when he didn't answer.
"Hang on," he sighed audibly. I could hear him moving about the room, probably putting away his paints before they dried up.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, he emerged from the room. His hair was dishevelled and had streaks of paint highlighting it where he'd ran his hands through the waves. He tended to do it a lot more when he was stressed.
"Hey," he forced a small smile, but as his blue eyes met mine I could feel the shame in them.
We simply stared at each other, not knowing who would make the first move. I still couldn't gauge how he was feeling, or whether he even wanted my comfort after I had upset him earlier.
"I'm sorry," we both breathed out at the same time, causing our eyes to meet in amusement. Peeta's quickly hardened though as he furrowed his brow at me.
"What are you apologising for?" He asked.
"I shouldn't have pried earlier." I hung my head, focusing on my hands which were joined in front of me. "I hardly even knew your family. I'm not trying to force you into reopening the bakery. I just want to understand how you feel."
"No, Katniss." Peeta pulled me against him, my head tucked into his chest. "I don't want you to apologise. You did nothing wrong. It's just a touchy subject."
"I just don't understand why you won't talk to me about it." I pushed, Peeta always insisted I spoke to him about things which were worrying me. I didn't understand when he'd become so secretive with his feelings.
"I do." He sighed, before tightening his grip on me. "But talking about my family or the bakery always seems to trigger the hijacked side of me. I never want to take out my anger on you."
I pulled back from him so I could peer up at his face. "You don't have to protect me, Peeta."
The corner of his lip pulled up into a small smile. "That's the only thing I have to do." He leant forward to press his lips against my forehead, and I felt my whole body relaxing at the contact.
I suddenly pulled away and grabbed his hand, pulling him along the hallway.
"What are you doing?" He laughed lowly as I pushed open his bedroom door.
"We only have two more nights with just the two of us, we're going to make the most of them."
Peeta closed the door behind us, before tugging me back to him by my hand which was still held in his. "Well what do you have in mind?" He raised an eyebrow before scanning his eyes obviously up and down my body.
I felt my face flush instantly, and my arms crossed over my chest. I realised the signals I was giving Peeta were much more intense than I had intended. His eyes widened as he sensed my discomfort and he took a tentative step towards me.
"I'm sorry, I was only joking. I'm not trying to push you into anything." He stumbled over the words, his face flushing to match mine, and I soon found myself grinning at him. I closed the gap between us and placed a finger on his lips, afraid he would work himself into a frenzy.
"No more apologies." I breathed before pressing my lips to his.
Peeta's hands slowly made their way around me, still second guessing my actions. I'd learnt to not let it bother me, one day he'd respond without the hesitation. I shuddered as his fingers ghosted up my spine, his every action still cautious as I pressed myself firmer against him.
I brought my hands up the length of his arms, my fingers dancing along the exposed skin as the hairs in their wake stood up to attention. Once I reached the line of his shirt sleeves my touch hardened, already missing the feel of his skin as I gripped onto his shoulders firmly to pull him against me. I couldn't control my smile as he moaned against my lips the moment my tongue slipped out to meet his, and he moved his hands to the small of my back, holding me in place as he massaged my tongue and lips with his.
Peeta's hands moved under the hem on my shirt, his hands were always warm and soft- but the contact made me shudder and I could feel the goose bumps appear under his fingers. Peeta sensed this and began to move them away.
"Don't," I pulled away just enough to murmur, although my lips still brushed against his as I spoke.
"Katniss," he groaned against my lips before splaying his hands flat across my bare back and pulling me back to him. Once we'd rediscovered our rhythm again he let his hands slide round to my sides and lifted me off the ground. Without even thinking, I wrapped my legs around his waist. Immediately I felt myself flush, until Peeta grunted in response - instantly quelling my embarrassment. Although I told myself it was the physical exertion of holding my weight, I knew it was because of the same aching feeling that was building in the pit of my stomach. The want to be closer to him, so much that I wasn't even self-conscious by my actions.
The more I kissed him, and the closer he pulled my body to his, the more the aching feeling grew. Instead of fulfilling the need to be close to him, our actions were only making me hungry for more. I couldn't keep track of my own movements, how many times I laced my fingers through his hair - pulling on the curling locks until he satisfied me with a groan, nor the amount of times I let loose a moan of my own. It was those that seemed to spur him on the most, his hand leading down to my behind and grasping firmly keeping my lower body close to his. The longer we kissed though, the harder it become for him to hold onto me. Although he'd regained a lot of his muscle, his arms weren't worked out half as much as they were when he'd been lifting flour sacks every day of his life, and they were quickly becoming tired of holding my weight. I shuffled my hips in an attempt to hold on for a little longer, only as I did so, I felt my core rub up against Peeta's crotch. Both of us groaned in unison, causing us to pull away and look into each others' eyes.
The Peeta staring back at me wasn't the sweet bakers boy I knew. This Peeta's eyes bore into mine with a passion I didn't know I could ever make I man feel. I could feel myself squirm under his gaze, not out of unease - but as his blue eyes, almost dark with desire, dropped down to the point where our bodies met and back up again, I could feel myself almost pulsing with the need to feel him against me again. Experimentally I rotated my hips against his, keeping my eyes firmly locked with his as I did so. He let out a shuddering breath, letting his head fall back slightly before he regained his composure. The hand which had been holding onto my behind suddenly grasped firmer, causing me to gasp out as the overwhelming feeling of both his hand on me, and my hips grinding against his.
"Peeta," I moaned, and suddenly his lips were on mine against with an almost bruising force. The use of his name must've boosted his confidence, as he moved us towards the bed before placing me down on the mattress. I couldn't help but notice as his eyes trailed down my body when I lay back, and as he caught my eyes he flashed a small smile.
"Come here," I murmured, reaching my hand out to him. He didn't take much persuasion as he climbed onto the bed so that he was hovering over me, supporting himself on his hands and knees.
Instead of returning his lips to mine like I'd expected, he found his way to my neck - switching between fluttering his lips over the skin and increasing the pressure until he pulled it into his mouth. I moaned in appreciation as he reached my collarbone, moving along the line of it until he met the neck of my shirt. I wriggled in annoyance at the fact that it was still on. Never did I want him to stop moving his lips along my skin.
"Take it off," I let out in a gasp as his tongue flicked out to taste my skin. He broke away and looked at me as he played with the end of my shirt - always giving me the chance to change my mind.
"Please." I groaned. That was all the persuasion he needed, and he pulled my shirt up slowly - purposely - as his fingers traced along the skin of my stomach, making me shudder against his touch. I didn't think his touch could feel any better until he shifted down my body, leaning down to let his soft lips brush across the newly exposed skin. I felt as though I was separating from my own mind and apprehensions, the only thing I could focus on was the feel of his skin on mine, and the way his breath ghosted over my skin - making me arch into him each time. I only came back to reality as his lips reached the cloth of my bra, making me fully aware of just where this was heading. Peeta instantly sensed my apprehension and stopped still, moving away from me carefully, but keeping himself wrapped around me. This allowed me the leverage I needed to sweep my leg around his hips and force us to manoeuvre so I was on top of him.
"Katniss, we can stop." He panted, catching his breath.
"Shh." I silenced him almost harshly before reaching down to pull his shirt over his head. He got to taste my skin, now it was my turn.
As I pulled his shirt up over his head, I took a moment just to cast my eyes over his shirtless torso. His chest had filled out considerably in recent weeks. He didn't have the muscle definition he'd had before his hijacking, but the natural tone was still there. I felt myself biting my lip as I let my fingers trail over the lines of his lightly defined abs. It didn't matter about everything he'd been through, he was still Peeta. Still perfect.
I shuffled my hips lower in order to grant myself access to his skin, but as I lowered my lips to meet his skin, I felt my hips press into the bulge in his trousers. Peeta instantly froze, although a small moan managed to seep through his lips. I looked up to meet his eyes and was surprised to find his looking at me in alarm, his cheeks flushed the brightest red I'd seen them in a long time.
I smiled softly at him, it look a lot to make Peeta Mellark embarrassed, and the thought that I was able to do that - and get such a reaction from him, was enough to make me swell with a kind of self-confidence I never thought I'd feel.
"I-I'm sorry, it just... it happens." He stuttered, barely even able to form the words, and I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"Peeta, it's fine." I assured him, even letting my hips roll against his. He instantly groaned, throwing his head back against the mattress.
"Say it again." He purred. I frowned to myself, not quite sure what he meant.
"My name," he breathed - bucking up slightly to meet my hips with his. "Please, say it again."
I'd never felt so powerful, and I had to admit it turned me on. I'd heard whispers about sex at school, but had no experience myself. I'd never known I could have such a hold over someone.
"Peeta," my voice wasn't mine, it was low - husky even. I didn't know where it had come from, but Peeta seemed to enjoy it as he rolled his body underneath mine.
"Katniss, wait." He blurted out as I lowered my lips - once again denied the taste of his skin. I tried not to narrow my eyes at him as I forced my gaze away from his torso and to his face. "We should stop."
"I said it's fine." I insisted. Peeta was always so cautious of me, and I couldn't blame him. But for once I wasn't petrified of the thought of his arousal.
"No Katniss," he sighed, running a hand through his hair before he pushed himself upright so he was sitting with me in his lap, my legs thrown behind him. "If we don't stop, I'm not going to be able to control myself." He looked away from me for a moment before looking back was a sad smile. "I know you're not ready to go that far yet."
I knew he was right, the moment he insinuated sex could be on the cards my heart had dropped in panic. Peeta would never force himself on me, but that didn't mean it was fair to put him in a position where that was what he ached for, and I wouldn't grant his release.
"It's okay." He leant forward to press his lips to my forehead, obviously sensing my change in mood. "That was definitely more than what I'd expected tonight." He smiled brightly, the lustful glint still clear in his eyes.
"I love you." I said with complete sincerity. I wasn't saying it because I was high on desire, or because he was - as always - being thoughtful. It was because I didn't say it enough, and I never wanted him to doubt it.
A smile slowly grew on his lips before he leant forward to capture my lips in a slow, soft kiss. It was strange how the same lips which had ravaged mine only moments ago, leaving them swollen, were the same ones which could soothe them.
"I love you too," he replied softly once his lips had left mine.
"I don't want to have to share you." I pouted, we only had one more night after this, then it wouldn't just be us anymore.
Peeta laughed freely, "you," he poked me on the nose for emphasis, "never have to share me with anyone. I'm always yours." I couldn't help but smile back at him, how did he always manage to make me feel so at ease?
"Now, stop being silly and get ready for bed." I gasped in shocked as he slapped me on the behind before scooting from underneath me. He looked back at me with an impish smile before practically jumping off the bed - wincing as his feet took his weight again.
Without even giving him chance to think of an excuse I'd crawled over the bed and was standing in front of him. "What is it?" I asked almost sharply. He'd been wincing at his prosthetic for days, constantly making excuses as to why it was hurting. There was no way it should be this painful for him.
"It's just sore, I've been on my feet all day." He forced a small smile, instantly I knew he was lying.
"It never used to give you this much trouble." I pointed out, folding my arms over my chest to show him I wasn't going to be fooled anymore.
"I've been wearing it too much." His eyes dropped to the floor and I stared at him in confusion. How could he wear it any less? It wasn't like he had a wheelchair or crutches to use while he rested his leg.
"I'm supposed to take it off when I sleep." He murmured, and instantly the realisation hit me.
"You don't take it off because I'm here." I sighed, looking into his eyes, hoping to see something to prove otherwise. But instead he fumbled with his words, barely able to look back at me.
"It's not because of you." He rubbed his face before moving his hand to the back of his neck. "It's me, I don't... I don't want you to see it."
I'd had enough of talking. I reached forward to grasp Peeta by the shoulders, before walking him to the edge of the bed and pushing him roughly so he fell back down onto it.
"You listen to me, Peeta." I spoke harshly, but my anger wasn't for him. It was for the people who had hurt him in such a way that he could ever think I would look at him like he was anything but perfection. It was for myself for letting him put his life on the line in order to save me. I suppose it was a little for him, for the fact he ever doubted me. "I love you. I've been through two Hunger Games with you, stuck by you when you were hijacked and trying to kill me, been through a war with you. You really think I care that you have an amputated leg?"
Peeta just stared at me dumbfounded, I knew it was hypocritical of me. I was self-conscious about my scars. But I couldn't let him ever doubt himself. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, say something well thought out which would just harm my argument. I put my hands to his lips, not this time.
"I love you Peeta," I didn't think I'd ever said it this many times in one day before. "I love how kind you are, I love that you've always looked out for me, I love that look of concentration you get on your face when your baking - and how your hair gets curlier from the heat of the ovens, I love that you came back to me even after the worst thing imaginable happened to you." I moved my hand to trail along the faint line of scar tissue above his eyebrow and down his neck. "I love your scars, and I love that you gave your leg to save me." I smirked, poking him in the nose like he had done to me earlier. "Don't you ever forget it."
I'd never seen Peeta smile the way he did after my little speech, a speech which normally would've made me want to crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment. This time it was completely worth it, just to see how happy it made him. After that he allowed me to remove his prosthetic, along with his trousers shielding it from my view. I peppered his leg in kisses, telling him over and over how perfect he was. For once it was my turn to protect him. I found myself massaging the sore area until Peeta's eyes began to droop in tiredness, I didn't even flinch when my hands met the end of his stump. Growing up as the child of a healer helped desensitise you to those things. It wasn't long after that we fell asleep in each other's arms, both only clad in our underwear, and my legs entwined with his - not even noticing the difference.