(a/n: I know this update is extremely over due. I've had a rough couple of months and hadn't felt like writing, then all of a sudden finished up half this chapter tonight as I was inspired. Its a long one, which I hope compensates a bit!)
Perception
Though the sun had risen high enough to surpass dawn Peeta and I remained in bed. Through the open window I could hear the Mocking Jays sing, but for once their melodies gave no comfort. Instead I lay still with open eyes, eyes that had been alert for hours, and simply tried to fuse myself to the warm and comforting mattress. Peeta's arm draped around me securely, and though we had yet to speak my ears were not filled with the familiar rhythm of his heavy breathing, so I knew he was awake. The hour of departure was fast approaching, yet I felt determined to spend the last few minutes of the morning ignoring that fact. I would have hours upon the train to battle the sinking feeling as we inched closer to the Capitol and would spin untold weeks dwelling in it, literally facing my nightmares as we haggled for a future.
But in that very moment I could submerge myself in the drowsy happiness of a lazy morning. We often started our early days with an indulgent lay in bed. Peeta would usually stroke my side, sliding his hand down the curve of my waist and back up to the peak of my hip. Though a relatively chaste motion, I had recently found myself wanting to urge his exploration elsewhere, past the skin where my hip stretched concave across the bone to an intimate area that grew flushed at the very notion. I could too clearly hear his breath going rugged upon such an endeavor, and that was a sound I ardently wished to help create.
Yet again I pushed such fanciful desires from my mind. The time for such a venture…if there ever was a time… was definitely not now. I wanted nothing new, nothing that would mark this morning as anything but a normal start to an uneventful day. Every second that passed this way was precious, and I was determined to lay in their security for as long as I could.
The ringing of Peeta's telephone slaughtered my lingering dreams. It sounded five alarms, enough time for the man behind me to pause, kiss my cheek briefly, and answer its call. Peeta's responses were brief and direct, and hardly any time had passed before he hung up. He returned back to his former position around me, and though the morning's lazy breeze still blew the same, everything had changed.
"It's time to go," I asked in emotionless statement.
Peeta answered by pulling me in closer.
…
In what seemed like a blink of an eye I found myself in the living room taking a silent inventory of our luggage. Peeta sat quietly on the couch staring at his hands while Haymitch paced irately back and forth. His accompanying us had been a point of contention for the past week. I had grown so accustomed to it being the three of us I hadn't even thought of him not going. He, however, immediately declined Peeta's offer to come with us, stating he had gone to the Capitol twenty-seven times too many already.
I was furious at him at first. How could he abandon us after all we had been through? I had yelled at him and stormed off seething. Yet as I hunted and calmed down I thought about his point. Haymitch had more nightmares of that place than Peeta and I combined. I had only had a little taste of what it had been like to be a Victor, certified-owned and glamorously enslaved by the Capitol. But Haymitch had spent more than half his life controlled by them. Year after year he had to watch as his Tributes perished, only to have to wander drunkenly through the District after and try not to pick out his batch for next year in the school yard. He had led Peeta and I through two games and a war, helped pull me back on my metaphorical feet and made sure Peeta still had two physically. Though only in his mid-forties he seemed to project like he had outlived his lifespan. He deserved peace, probably more than anyone I knew.
I didn't even stop to ask Peeta for advice when I got home that day. I went straight to Haymitch's room, apologized for how I acted, and told him I more than understood why he didn't want to go and how I respected his decision.
Haymitch's gray eyes stared back at me emotionlessly.
"Fine!" he finally grumbled, getting up and walking towards me. "I'll fucking go with you!"
The door shut in my face before I could even begin to formulate a response.
Haymitch wore the same faded suit he always wore when off to the Capitol, though it hung a bit loose on him. Between the Rebellion, working with the geese, and cutting back a bit on his drinking he had lost most of his paunch and stood rather slim. Now that me and Peeta forced him to eat and exercise outside he had gained some color in his face. For the first time I looked at him and realized he was actually almost handsome, though I would never give him the satisfaction of telling him that.
Peeta, however, looked unquestionably dashing in his simple black suit, and from the way he fidgeted about I decided that this was an observation I should express.
A knock on the door stole my chance. Peeta jumped to his feet upon the first rapping, clearly anticipating it. Our Guide was here to lead us to the train…and to the Capitol.
The first thing I noticed about the man at the door was how impossibly straight his mustache was. His facial hair, sideburns and eyes were the exact same shade of dark brown and matched the starched hat he wore on his head. There was no smile on his face, no flare to his attire, nothing that signified him as a man from the Capitol…
"Greetings. My name is Reginald Banner. I am your Guide to the Capitol."
… except for the fact that his strong and piercing Capitol accent accentuated every syllable he uttered.
"It's nice to meet you, I'm Peeta," Peeta greeted without falter, the only one of us not perturbed by the man's voice.
"And these…people, I presume, are your Entourage?" Banner inquired slowly, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow rising in a sneer. The man radiated condescension as he looked around our house critically, eventually planting his haughty gaze back on me.
"Yes, they are coming with me," Peeta answered, stepping in between us. I scowled prolifically and Haymitch pulled a flask out of his pocket.
"You know I'd never thought I'd say this," Haymitch announced after taking a hearty swig, "but you're already way more annoying than our last Escort."
"I am NOT your Escort," Banner fumed. "This is not the Hunger Games. I am your Guide."
There had been a major backlash reaction from the Districts at the Capitol's way for informing the public of the need for Representatives. Installing stages in the exact location and manner as the Games and telling Districts they needed to send one of their own to the Capitol had almost started riots in some areas. Plutarch Heavensbee, now Secretary of Communication, had apparently approved this insensitive oversight and had been promoting ad after ad to placate the Districts of their fears (and also probably in order to keep his job). He assured that the Representatives were free to come and go as they pleased, that they were allowed to bring an Entourage of supporters with them, and that they would each be helped out by their own Guide, which he seemed to think was a more cheerful synonym for Escort.
"She had a nicer ass too," Haymitch commented, picking up his bag and pushing past Banner to get to the car. I said nothing but kept my scowl, my eyes flittering over momentarily to my bow that was to be left behind for prosperity. The way Banner continued to glare at me made me glad I had picked up a trick or two from my old mentor. I gently patted the newly sharpened blade I kept in my coat pocket as I passed him.
The ride to the station was a silent one. Banner sat primly across from us, staring sternly as we squashed together in one seat. I tried to keep my mind shut of all the terrors it masochistically begged to revisit. The fear and anxiety of death, torture, and loss bubbled violently in my stomach, and a frantic need to jump out of the car and collapse back into my chair and into nothingness consumed me.
But I wasn't the only one.
Peeta's complexion had faded past pale to where a sickly green color shaded his cheeks. His hand gripped on to his legs shakily and his eyes were both bulged and glazed over. Dread flooded my veins as I watched him silently suffer through a hijack spell. My first instinct was to pull Peeta's face to mine and force him to look into my eyes as I talked him through it. Stroking his hair and calmly sorting through his memories with him seemed to get him out of his state quicker. Only two nights ago I had spent fifteen minutes on the bathroom floor doing this, cradling him in my arms protectively as he shook himself loose of the shiny hallucinations.
But Banner's strict gaze on us made me feel like this was impossible. Despite the "friendly helper" image Heavensbee tried to spin, it was obvious that this man was itching to get rid of us. Witnessing District Twelve's chosen Representative suffer from a mental breakdown before even boarding the train was likely more than he could hope for. Yet despite watching us intently he gave no sign that he recognized Peeta's fit.
"You know, Peeta, you were right," I stated lightly as I casually slipped my hand on top of his. "It's not real bad being here."
"You mean it is really not," Banner scoffed in pompous correction.
"Oh. So it's not real is grammically not real in that sentence?" I asked slowly, playing up the uneducated trash role he clearly thought I was.
"No. It's not real in that sentence," he mocked, emphasizing the phrase as much as I had.
"Well, when do you use not real?" Haymitch inquired with a yawn, stretching his arm along the back of the seat as he did so his hand could squeeze Peeta's shoulder in support.
"When talking about something that is not real," Banner answered, staring at the two of us as if he could not believe our insipidness.
"I really like things that are real," I chattered on, looking at Haymitch as I discretely locked my fingers around Peeta's hand.
"I really like things that are real too!" Haymitch squealed in such an uncharacteristic manner I almost paused.
"Like the taste of the fresh bread we bake every morning," I suggested.
"Or when you and Peeta dance together every night," Haymitch listed.
"That book of really good memories we all put together!" I added.
"Not…not dying in the Hunger Games," Peeta muttered a bit unstably to our side.
"Yes! That is a real thing that happened!" I stated.
"Aren't real things just the absolute best!?" Haymitch exclaimed.
"Well then you'll love this, because we are really at the station," Banner spat, getting out of the car swiftly as though his sanity depended on it.
"Peeta!" I cried softly the second the door shut. I cupped his face frantically and pulled him close.
"I'm okay," he expressed, though still a little distantly. "I just started thinking about where we were going and…"
"We don't have to go," I pressed lightly, stroking his cheek tenderly. "Forget everyone else. We can just stay home and not go through all of this."
"I have to go," he replied firmly as his sweet smile returned to his face. "I just need to get a grip…"
Peeta paused for a moment, his smile growing until he suddenly started to struggle not to laugh.
"What is it?" I inquired, worried that the memories still addled his mind.
"Aren't real things just the absolute best?" Peeta repeated, laughter finally getting the best of him. "That honestly has to be the greatest thing I have ever heard!"
I tucked my own lips in as I suppressed a smile. Now on the other side of the dilemma I realized how ridiculous our method was to calm Peeta down. Effective, but ridiculous.
"Laugh it up, Stumpy," Haymitch spat, "see if I try to help you out again when you're fighting your shiny demons in front of the whole Capitol."
Despite the threat Haymitch couldn't help but grin as he climbed out of the car. I laughed alongside Peeta, encouraging his good feelings as long as I could. Who knew when we would laugh like this again?
I kept my hand on top of his, squeezing it gently as his laughs died down.
"You sure you're okay to do this?" I inquired sincerely.
"Of course I'm not sure," he replied with a grin. "But hey, what's the worst that can happen?"
He opened up the door and used his leverage on my hand to pull me out of the car with him before his response could kick in. The thought of all the horrible things that could happen to us at the Capitol came rushing to my mind, and I suddenly got the urge to throw him back into the car and drive back to the safety of the Village.
But then I saw the crowd. Haymitch, Peeta and I stood dumbstruck as the entire District crowded between us and the train. They did not applaud, at least not like they had when we returned from our first Hunger Game. Yet nor did they look on us with fear, pity or relief like they had on Reaping day. Instead they stood on in a murmured yet hopeful commotion. Our neighbors came forward to shake Peeta's hand, pat me gently on the arm, and one man even slipped Haymitch a bottle of unlabeled brown liquor. For the first time it really hit me what Peeta had the possibility to do. He could really make a positive difference in everyone's life, and the whole District seemed to think he had an actual shot of doing just that. Despite the fear that was lodged deep into my stomach I couldn't help but beam with pride at the man in front of me.
Delly and Thom stood right in front of the door to the train. Delly gave us each a hug and kiss, while Thom held out a worn cloth bag to Peeta. I heard the clink of coins as Peeta peered in curiously.
"It isn't much," Thom lamented, "but we all spared what we could."
"I can't take this!" Peeta exclaimed in horror, tying the bag up and trying to force it back into Thom's hands.
"You have to," Delly smiled. "We wanted to help support you. We're sure you'll need it in the Capitol. And don't you dare try to leave it here. We all swore we wouldn't use it so it would just go to waste."
"I…I don't know what to say," Peeta admitted, shifting the bag that contained more money than either of us had ever held in our lives. "I promise you all I'll get you your money back."
"Just make sure you get us our money's worth," Greasy Sae retorted, grinning with her chipped and crooked teeth. A warm smile melted on Peeta's face as he agreed, guarding the bag closely to his chest. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to embrace him, but I held back. This was a moment for him to bask in. I could see his smile turn into a look of hard determination, and I knew he was saving this experience to inspire him during his delegations. The crowd looked back at him, tired, dirty, but full of hope. Peeta made a motion to step forward to address the crowd.
"Say good-bye to your Districtmen," Banner directed taking, Peeta's elbow and guiding him into the train. "We have a schedule to keep."
A flash of anger covered Peeta's face but he quickly shook it off. I however was not so quickly soothed as I watched our Guide all but push him into the train car.
"Easy there, Sweetheart," Haymitch muttered into my ear. "Let's wait to start the riots when we're not at home."
The stench of the liquor on his breath caused my stomach to turn but did not surprise me. That he stroked and kissed my hair before wrapping his arm around my shoulders did. His uncharacteristic bout of affection quieted me as he led me to follow Banner and Peeta. I turned around just in time to see the crowd holding up three fingers in reverence before the silver door slammed shut and the train sped off.
Banner immediately began an obnoxiously long diatribe of our behavior, listing what the expectations were of a Representative and his Entourage and enumerating the every details of our schedule for when we arrived at the Capitol.
I didn't listen to a word he said.
Instead I looked anxiously around the cabin. It was nowhere near as lavish a train as the ones the Capitol had sent before. It was only a three car passenger train with worn but plump seats, a well-used looking table, and natural watt lighting not adorned by chandler. I wondered if the reduction of splendor was due to the flagging economy or because the Capitol felt no desire to pamper three criminals responsible for their downfall. Either way the atmosphere was slightly comforting.
A long lapse of silence shook me back to reality as I realized the others were waiting for a response of mine. Apparently Banner needed to speak to Peeta alone about his duties. Peeta was avidly refusing to leave my side, stating that anything he was told would be related back to me anyways. Haymitch quickly filled the silence by loudly slurring the words to the Capitol's anthem as he took large swigs out of his gift bottle.
"It's okay!" I finally announced, cutting through the bickering and singing. "Haymitch and I will just wait in the other car."
"You don't have to do that, Katniss," Peeta urged, and through my head ache I realized too late it wasn't just my sanity he was worried for. But by then two large "servers" had begun to usher us into the lunch car. A door shut between us before I could try to make things right.
Helpless. That is what I had begun to feel. Not even five minutes on the train and I already felt trapped and like I had abandoned Peeta for my own convenience. I could have fought to stay with him, but that would only lead to an altercation between the three of us and our Capitol "hosts" that would surely lead us into more trouble. I scowled. I never used to think ahead in those terms.
The servers immediately took seats at a table, ignoring us as they played cards. Haymitch and I took one glance at the room before making our way to the last car. It was divided into four cabins with passenger seats and sliding doors.
"I'm going to Christen this the "shit-faced" cabin," Haymitch belched. "Care to join?"
"I'm going to have to pass," I replied, wanting to be focused when Peeta could finally join.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged, walking into one of the back cabins and slamming the door shut.
I settled into another, prepared to simply wait for Peeta to arrive. The moment the door slid close behind me however I collapsed onto the padded seat, tears streaming down my face as I broke into uncontrolled sobs.
…
I woke up not realizing I had fallen asleep. The bright light of the sun had faded to a dull burning orange and I no longer felt its warmth against my face. My head felt heavy and slow, and while I had passed on Haymitch's suggestion that I binge my sorrows in alcohol I felt at first very much like I did when I had been drinking. The emptiness of my stomach churned against me and as my eyes slowly focused to my dim cabin I remembered I had not eaten. It was only when I started to slowly shift in my plush seat that I noticed that a crisp, silk lined jacket that covered my torso and smelt like comfort had not only been draped on me, but its owner sat quietly in the seat across from mine.
"Peeta?" I called out with a frown as I sat up. His head perked up quickly from the razor thin electric tablet that had been engrossing him.
"You're up," he stated with a smile, quickly taking to the space where my legs once stretched out.
"Why didn't you wake me?" I scowled slightly, hating having not been there for him in the hours that had passed upon the train.
"I thought you could use some rest," he replied, placing an arm around my shoulder as I leaned into him. "Besides, it gave me a chance to read up on the issues."
He tapped once on the silver tablet he held, and instantly page after page of information projected itself into the air like a 3-D book. Peeta waved his hand over the material to scroll through the words, pressing on pictures or links in the air to take him to new sites. The colors were vivid and engrossing, and all of it emerged from an object hardly thicker than a few pieces of hair.
"This thing has everything in it. Access to the Capitol database, newspapers from all over Panem, it shoots and records video, makes calls, and, if you can believe it…"
He paused for a moment, placing his hands along the side of the device and pushing them together. Suddenly the tablet the size and width of a large piece of paper folded in on itself continuously until it rolled into a sleek looking object. Peeta clicked the top of it and I was amazed to see it had transformed into a pen.
"Cool, huh? Though kind of useless in a place that seems to reject any form of print or paper. I mean it would have been a whole lot cheaper just to give me a book and a memo pad," he joked, twisting the tip of the pen until it folded back out perfectly flat again.
"That would have been too sensible," I muttered irately, though I instantly softened when Peeta laughed in agreement.
"So what did Banner have to tell you that was so important?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair in hope of shaking out my headache.
"All the top secret Representative information that he continuously pressed was for my eyes only. Wanna see?"
I laughed silently as he quickly waved his fingers around the digitized air. Apparently recognizing his finger prints the device cleared the security system and a new page was brought forth. Fourteen photographs came into view, lined up neatly in two rows of seven. For the first time I saw those representing the thirteen districts and the Capitol. Peeta's picture lay at the bottom, and while he was clearly the youngest member of this office it was another comparison that nagged my mind.
"The way they have this set up…it reminds me of the Tribute presentation," I stated, doing my best to keep my voice calm.
"Old habits…
He scrolled quickly through some of his fellow Representatives to show me what he was up against. They were all men except for the stern but gorgeous middle-aged woman from District Four and the wispy Representative for the Capitol with shocking pink hair who didn't look much older than me. Peeta pointed out the beefy looking man with silver hair and a charming smile from Ten and the dark skinned Representative with a demeanor that reminded me of Thrash from Eleven and stated that he was going to try and form an alliance with them as they all came from the Outer Districts. I cringed at his terminology and turned my attentions out the window. A low whooshing sound alerted me that his tablet had been turned off.
"I think it might have been a mistake to bring you here," he stated quietly after a few moments. My head snapped towards him instantly.
"What?" I asked, heartbreak and dread pouring into my voice before I could filter it. "You don't want me with you?"
"Katniss, I don't want to go anywhere without you. Ever," he assured so ardently I felt my cheeks go warm. "But I'm realizing there are some things we didn't know…or think through."
"What are you talking about?" I inquired. Peeta hesitated, weighing his words carefully. My anxiety doubled at the pause. He had never skated around an issue with me before.
"When I was with Banner…well, he made a comment," Peeta stalled, checking with his feet before his eyes rested on mine. "About how he hoped you could keep your sanity in check long enough for us to check into our lodging."
My eyebrows knitted together as I tried to follow what he was trying to say, until suddenly it dawned on me.
"I don't know how much of the trial you remember," Peeta continued lightly, "but Aurelius did a pretty good job convincing everyone in the country that you were crazy so you could be sent home."
I slumped back against my seat. I had spent the last thirteen months running away from my demons. For two years I had inexplicably survived while countless had died around me. My mind was tortured with the painful and horrific ways those I had cared about and thousands I didn't even know all perished just because I almost ate some berries. My sister had been blown to pieces in front of me, Peeta had been all but stripped of himself, and my mother could hardly talk to me. At night when I closed my eyes I was plagued with the silent cries of Cinna, Finnick, Snow, Coin and so many, many more. I had flirted dangerously with suicide, been torn from my nightmares by the sounds of my own screams, and wallowed in despair countless times as I questioned my own sanity. It was a dreadful, accursed feeling and one I feared might still consume me.
And yet as I absorbed Peeta's statement I couldn't help but grin.
"So Banner and the Capitol are scared I'm going to spew my crazy on them, huh?" I laughed. That explained why despite this being the most important political movement since the Rebellion no one from the media had come to talk to Peeta.
"It's not funny," Peeta pressed, though his expression softened greatly at my light reaction.
"I know," I replied, "it's just after all that's happened it's just ridiculous to again have to worry what other people think about me. I can't even remember the last time I cared about that."
"Probably because it was never," Peeta remarked with an endearing smile. I laughed along with him, even though the lightness didn't truly touch my heart. No, that wasn't true. I had really cared once about how I was perceived. After the first Games when I tried to convince the nation of my deep love for Peeta in order to quash the uprisings. In the end it proved to only be a distraction, and I suppose in the long run it was for the best, but in the back of my mind I couldn't help but wonder that if I had been a little more convincing, Prim might…
I shook my head of that thought. Prim was dead because Coin had decided to fight deplorable act with deplorable act. Prim's death was a reminder of what happened when evil souls reigned unchecked. She was gone, and there was nothing else that could be done but make sure that men and women like that never gained power again.
My eyes flitted back to Peeta. His smile remained warm as he patiently waited for me to finish my train of thought. My heart melted at the look. People like Peeta were the ones who should be making the decisions. He would always do what was in the best interests of others, and even after all he had been through his motives were not tarnished by pride or revenge.
I had told myself before that I would do anything for Peeta because of what he did for me and how he made me feel. That unspoken promise for him intensified as it came clear how important he was for everyone else.
"How do you feel?" I asked him, gently rubbing his arm. Peeta grinned guiltily as he collected his thoughts.
"Terrified," he admitted. "I'm so worried I'm going to mess all of this up."
"Peeta, you have nothing to be afraid of," I soothed. "You've been through two Games and the Rebellion and survived intact enough to be elected almost unanimously by the District. Everything else after that is a walk in the woods."
"But this is completely different," he pressed. "All I worried about in the Games was making sure you were safe. But now I have everyone back home depending on me, let alone the fact that I am making decisions that could impact the whole nation. What if I can't do it?"
"Peeta, you have the best heart of anyone I have ever known," I stated, gently tracing the outlines of his knuckles with my fingertips. "There is no one else I would trust more to make the right decisions for the country. Or me."
Peeta met my smile, and though I could tell he felt touched and comforted by my words his eyes were still heavy with concern.
"And what if I can't handle it and just break down? It's not a coincidence that my spells have been more frequent lately, I can't imagine they'll be much better when were in the Capitol. What if I start to have an attack during Council or on camera?"
"Then you just remember that I'm right here," I said firmly. "Remember that I'm right beside you, that I'll be right next to you every night and every possible moment out of the day, and that I'm not going anywhere. Ever."
"You promise?" Peeta whispered, pulling me gently into his lap. My legs fell on either side of his thighs as I scooted myself up as close to him as I could.
"I promise," I concurred firmly. Then I ruffed his hair and smiled, doing my best to wipe the somber look off his face.
"I'll make you a deal," I began. "You worry about all the meetings and the politicians and the getting people to like you stuff that you are built for… and I'll worry about you."
"And who's supposed to worry about you, Katniss?" he laughed as he pulled me in tighter.
"I can take care of myself, thank you. I'm perfectly capable of watching after the well-being of two people," I defended.
"Three," Peeta corrected, nodding his head over in Haymitch's direction.
"Yes, Haymitch too. I will keep him underwraps and promise to keep myself out of trouble. Deal?"
"Deal," he whispered seriously as he gently drew his nose over the length of my neck. My heart began to pound at the intimate contact. I found myself melting into his embrace, drowsy with pleasure as he lightly nuzzled against me. His lips brushed softly against my skin, drawing me into a frenzy as I silently screamed for him to begin kissing me. His breath grew heavy as his hands slowly rose up my hips, sneaking their way up the folds of my shirt to caress my flushed skin.
"It's my turn to take care of us again anyways," I stated, the words cracked as they came out of my mouth. "That's how this relationship works."
I closed my eyes, eager to feel Peeta's lips against my own, but the sensation never came. My lids spread open and I saw that his face had once again grown pained and burdened.
"What is it?" I asked quickly, the flutter from my voice evaporating as panic set in. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, it's just…" Peeta bowed his head as he once again went searching for his words. Feeling foolish, I began to pull away, wanting not only off his lap but to crawl to the other seat. His reactive grip on me made it clear he desired otherwise.
"There's more," he blurted, finally holding my eyes.
"More?" I repeated dubiously, half still wanting to pull away.
"More, about what Banner said," Peeta sighed. "When he made that remark about you…well what he actually said was I hope that…your wife… can keep her sanity in check. He…and the Capitol and, well, everyone, expects us to be married."
I felt my grip on him loosen. I had not forgotten our charade. How could I? How could I ever forgot Peeta telling the nation that we had married in secret and that I had been with child in the hopes of saving me in the Quell. How could I forget how integral his and mine relationship seemed to be to the whole nation. A silly little teen romance that somehow had inspired hope against all odds. That's not something that one blocks out, even if the romance was over-fabricated.
But I had also thought such a façade was behind me. No one in Twelve ever asked us why we didn't act like we were married or brought such events up. It had simply been one of those things I had not been proud of, not as bad as some of my other deeds, but definitely not one I tried to dwell on. And before now Peeta had never mentioned it, and it would have been cruel of me to address him about it. He, at least back then, had genuinely wanted to marry me.
My first impulse was such a story shouldn't matter. Peeta had done what he thought he had to to save me. We had staged the engagement to save the country. No one could blame us for what we did.
But then I realized that was foolish. Politics was its own form of Hunger Games, and anyone looking to attack Peeta would throw the fact that he had delivered some pretty big lies in the past just to get what he wanted. Opponents would skew the facts, and his good deeds would be swallowed in rhetoric.
"Okay," I nodded curtly. "So we just act like we're married. We can pull it off."
Peeta cast his gaze away from me again. He adjusted in his seat, not exactly pushing me off but making it clear he wanted distance. I slid off him, my heart breaking at the rejection. I wanted to scream and cry and force myself back into his arms all at once. But all I did was stare emotionlessly as he wiped his red streaked face.
"I can't do that," he stated finally. "I can't handle that."
"What do you mean?" I ask quietly.
"Katniss, what do you think my hijacking spells are all about?" he demanded harshly. "They're all about you lying to me. About how you're a monster who doesn't care about me and will leave as soon as it's convenient for you. You really think playing my wife and pretending to want to be with me is going to make me not have spells? Fuck!"
Peeta accentuated his sentence by punching the side of the wall. He immediately covered his head in his hands, rocking ever so slightly as he began to ward off another episode.
"I'm sorry!" he gasped suddenly. "I'm so sorry, Katniss. I didn't mean…I'm so sorry…"
"Peeta, it's alright," I assured lightly, though my chest still felt tight and my eyes stung with repression. "I understand."
I hesitated before placing my arm around him. I sighed in relief when he didn't push me away, and moved myself closer to comfort him more intimately.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered again. "I just…I just can't go through that again. I don't want to have to sit and wonder what's…real and not real with you. I don't want to always be questioning "does she really care or is she just pretending?". It's…it's just too much."
"Shhh," I soothed, gently rubbing his back as my insides collapsed with guilt.
I had really done that to him. Even before the hijacking I had driven him crazy as he tried to interpret my true feelings and intentions. Back then I had been more focused on survival then to fry and figure out what I felt for him, let alone show it properly. Then it had been about preservation. Now I felt heartless and cruel.
I had hurt him. Truly and deeply, and it still affected him to this day.
"Then I won't pretend," I stated to him. Peeta pulled his hands away from his face, wiping at his eyes and his red blotched skin.
"What do you mean?" he mumbled, looking down at his lap.
"I mean what I said," I stated again, gently cupping his face and pulling it to look at me. "We may lie to others, but everything I say to you and about you…everything I do to you, is 100% real and only what I want to do."
"Katniss," he sighed wearily, rubbing at his eyes again. Before he could get in another word I pushed myself back into his lap, straddling him hungrily as I lay my chest against his. His eyes widened in shock and his breath weighted instantly.
"Peeta…I know I'm no good with words, and you deserve so much more than I can give you," I whispered, fully aware he hung on my every word. "But all I can say right now is you make me feel so…dizzy. And if you don't shut me up and kiss me I swear I'm going to faint."
The color immediately drained from his face at the comment, and for a moment I feared I may have overstepped my bounds. But that moment quickly passed, and soon he raised his hand to gently twirl the end of my braid.
"Well I can't have any wife of mine fainting on a count of that, now can I?" he asked deeply. I had a second to smile before I felt his arms embrace me as he stood, laying my back down against the plush seat as he settled on top of me. My legs spread apart to let him fit between them. Both of our breathing had grown ragged, and I could feel the heat from his face as he lowered it inches in front of mine. He paused to tuck a lose strand behind my ear and stare down at me. I felt as though he were memorizing my face. I too couldn't help but become lost in his as I stared at his eyes. They were filled with love, loyalty and appreciation, looks I had often seen him give me. But there was one more aspect there too, one that had before been only fleeting, but now dominated his face.
Lust.
I realized right before his lips took mine that it was lust in his eyes. And that it had been the lust in mine that had him mesmerized too.
I moaned as his tongue slipped into my mouth. It was warm and sweet and caused my blood to race. I clawed hungrily at his back, trying to pull him closer to me despite all of his weight baring down on me. His hands once again slipped up the sides of my shirt, and I shuddered in pleasure as I felt his warm caress on my skin. His large hands continued to explore upwards, the fingers cupping around the curves of my frame while his thumbs rested just below my bra. He paused, unsure of his boundaries. I answered him by pushing him up, sliding my hands up his chest, and slowly unbuttoning his best dress shirt before flinging it to the floor.
His chest was broad, dusted with blond hair, and firm with muscle. I let my hands fall down the curves of his biceps down the rest of his arms, jumping over to his abs. His skin was worn and covered with scars, but it was all I could do to keep myself from latching back on to him.
Instead I took a gulp of air and raised my arms above my head. Peeta's hands scaled up my sides as he gently pulled the blouse I wore from my frame.
He began the same gentle exploration of my body. I closed my eyes, half to relish in his touches and half to keep from being self-conscious. Despite months of sharing a room we had never seen each other naked. I knew my own scars tattooed my body, and the rest of my skin was ashen and blotched in some places. Even with eating more my ribs still stuck out like a child's. I thought my body to be somewhat disfigured, but as Peeta's touches grew more frantic and coveted I opened my eyes, feeling desirable for the first time.
"Katniss," he moaned in my ear, pulling me close to him so our bare bodies connected. I rolled my head back as he kissed my neck, holding me with one hand as the other lightly cupped my breast. His breathing grew heavier as he gently rolled it against his palm, feeling every curve through my thin and embarrassingly shabby bra.
He found my lips again, kissing me slowly this time, deliberately. Somehow this gentle touch was more erotic than when we had thrown ourselves at each other. He kept his arm around me as he pulled me back into his lap. As our hips connected I couldn't help but cant against him rhythmically. He hissed, tugging me closer as he matched my rhythms. My legs began to tingle and shake as my insides flushed with heat. Our lips never broke as we ground against each other. His hands moved up and down my torso, sprawling across my back, caressing my stomach, squeezing my breasts. My arms stayed locked around his neck, my fingers clutching and running through his hair as I grew lost in the passion. I had never felt so elated in my life, and yet my body and mind still screamed for more. The pleasure was addicting, and I couldn't help the shameful, urging moan that escaped my throat as Peeta's hands went past my hips and began to dip down behind my belt.
"Well why is this not a surprising thing to catch a politician doing?" a droll voice called out, instantly shattering the world of ecstasy. I gasped in horrifying disgrace, pushing myself tight against Peeta to hide my half-naked form from prying eyes.
"Haymitch!" Peeta cried out in a half-yell, half-swallow. "What…what are you doing?"
"I have come to inform the honorable Representative and his esteemed companion that were almost there, so he might want to put his dick back in his pants," Haymitch scolded with far too much delight. "Though seeing as I am sure she has yet to give it up I bet you could probably finish up and get her to make you a sandwich before we actually arrive."
"Get out, Haymitch!" I demanded, picking up one of Peeta's discarded shoes and throwing it at him. He shut the door with a laugh before it landed.
Blushing with embarrassment my eyes met Peeta's. Like it had this morning the atmosphere had instantly changed despite the position remaining the same. I still continued to flush all over, and in my seated stance I could feel his thick length pressed against my leg.
"Well this is not really what I expected to happen on the trip up here," he joked, grinning through the awkwardness so genuinely I couldn't help but laugh. I kissed him twice before pulling back.
"It's not really what I pictured either," I agreed. "I just…I just want you to know that I really meant what I said about only saying and doing things to you because I really want to do them."
"You have gotten soooo much better at making your points," Peeta groaned, causing me to laugh again. We kissed lightly for a minute after, though it was more chaste than any that we had shared on the train that day. We quickly got dressed, smoothing out the wrinkles in each other's clothes and doing our best to straighten out our hair. As I finished slipping my shoes back on I watched the view in front of me flash the lake and grandeur that was the city skyline.
I felt frozen as I thought of all that that city had held. Everything that had happened there, and all the terrors within me that stemmed from the very center.
Peeta slipped his arm around me and I leaned back against his chest as we broke the city limits of the Capitol.