Woop! I was supposed to update Lost and Found, but instead I got really excited that I could get this whole fic wrapped up in a week if I just pushed myself a little. The next chapter is ready, and I'm already working on 16, which could be the last one. Then maybe an epilogue. This could all be over in a week! Is anyone else doing a happy dance? Thank you to Burkygirl and Xerxia for inspiration, beta work, beta re-work, thoughts, complaints, naggings, telling me they want to throw their tablets out the window and punch a few people. I just smile maniacally.
"Ready?" Gale asks, holding his elbow out for me as I stare at the offering, wishing it were someone else's. It's almost our cue to precede my sister down the aisle. I catch two familiar heads of blond hair in the second row and I immediately know whom is whom. Peeta's hair is wavier than Rye's. I wonder if Peeta can feel my gaze on him?
There are just four of us standing with Prim and Rory today. Besides Gale and me, there's Vick, the third and youngest Hawthorne brother, and Rue, Prim's best friend from ninth grade. She moved away, but they always stayed in touch. They're almost identical except for Rue's ebony shading.
She and Vick are halfway down the aisle. Rory stands near the altar, waiting expectantly. He looks like he may faint and I understand the feeling. I'm a ball of nerves and it's not even my wedding.
"Yeah." I swallow a lump, loop my arm through Gale's, and before I know it we're taking measured steps toward the front of the church. I feel Peeta watching me as we move closer to the front, but I was told specifically to keep my chin up and smile on, looking straight ahead for the camera. It's so hard.
We haven't spoken since the night he stayed with me when I woke up to a note that said he had to get to work on Prim's cake and food and we should talk later. Two days later, we still haven't said a word, although we've both been so busy I suppose that's understandable. He's been preparing a feast and I've had my hands full keeping up with Prim and Rue - hair, make-up, freshly painted nails, long talks about fashion and celebrity gossip. I should get a medal for the things I do in the name of sisterly love.
Everyone stands as the traditional wedding music bellows from the pipes of the hundred year-old organ. My eyes lock with Peeta's for a moment and he gives me the tiniest wink and I go weak in the knees. I tear my eyes from his to focus on Prim. It is her day, after all. She's stunning in our Mother's gown with her hair tucked into a side bun. A forties-inspired veil covers half her face and it's attached to a large comb adorned with a silk flower. Her makeup is perfect, accentuating her bright blue eyes and a pink gloss on her lips. She looks like a breath of fresh air in the middle of winter. I blink to try and curb a few tears threatening to slide down my cheeks and focus on the Reverend as he addresses the congregation.
I feel eyes on me again. I know it's silly because I'm standing in front of two hundred people and of course there will be a few stares, but I glance at Peeta anyway and confirm it was him. He holds my gaze thoughtfully. His smile is wistful, and I can't help but return it in kind. I wonder if he's thinking what I'm thinking. That it could have been us in this church, in front of that altar and Pastor, with me in my Mother's dress and him next to me. In a way, I'm glad it didn't happen. We were too young, too inexperienced in the hardships of life. But it could be different now. My pulse speeds up and butterflies flit around my stomach at where my mind has travelled. My eyes water again and a rebellious tear makes a break for it. I have to wipe it away quickly and turn back to listen to the Reverend's sermon, but I don't hear much of it.
By the time Prim and Rory have said 'I do', exchanged rings and kisses, and been pronounced husband and wife, Peeta hasn't locked eyes with me once, always looking away when mine flicker over to him unbidden.
A knot forms in my stomach as I help Prim with the long train of my mother's gown, making our way across the historic building to the reception. We're the last to arrive, and the crowd erupts into cheers as Gale and I follow the newlyweds into the large room. The DJ is already through a third of the playlist of Prim's favorite songs and people look refreshed and happy, as though there hasn't been a good bash thrown in this town for centuries.
"I'll go grab you some food," I tell Prim after she's seated at the table. The buffet line isn't too long, but I cut in with a semi-apologetic smile since the plate I'm piling food on is for the bride. I know it will taste as good as it smells because Peeta had a hand in it, but I'm too anxious to eat. I just want to see him. Talk to him. I need to hear his voice like the desert needs a good rain shower.
As soon as I place Prim's plate down, I ask if there's anything more I can get her, careful not to shirk my maid-of-honor duties. When she says no, my lungs relax. I give her a quick kiss on the cheek, tell her I'll be back, and immediately start looking for Peeta. We haven't even spoken in almost forty-eight hours. When I stepped off that plane a week ago, I never would have imagined how badly I'd be yearning for him now.
I check first by his gorgeous cake - three exquisite tiers covered in perfectly smooth, white frosting. The edges are piped with waves of the frosting as well, and dotted with handmade primroses that mimic the real ones cascading down the side of the cake. It's a confection of pure genius, intricate and thoughtful, and I can't help but wonder what kind of cake a baker would make for his own bride. With Peeta's attention to detail I'm certain of it.
"So, what do you think?" Peeta's voice brings me back to the present. He's more than handsome in black slacks, a fitted white shirt and thin orange tie that makes the blue of his eyes seem even bluer. His perfectly styled hair practically shouts for my fingers to muss it up.
"It's…," I pause trying to think of some great compliment I can give him but as usual my brain fails me. Probably because the way his cheeks flush as he looks me over has me flustered. "Honestly, there are no words."
"I'm sure you could think of a word," he quips and give me a sort of half-laugh, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"I could give you plenty of words, but they wouldn't do it justice. It's just so… personal?" Peeta's brow furrows.
"Okay that's not really what I was expecting," he admits, looking a little disappointed.
"I just meant that you're so thoughtful. It's detailed and beautiful, but words aren't my thing and so I don't feel like any of the ones I could come up with would do it justice." The confusion lifts from his face when he understands my meaning. He gives me a megawatt smile that not only reaches his eyes, but gives me a glimpse of his heart, of the Peeta I used to know way back when. The Peeta I want now.
"Thank you, Katniss. That means a lot. You look really beautiful, by the way. It was kind of hard to keep my eyes off you during the ceremony." I'm sure I blush, and I know my heart leaps a bit at his words. I feel like a stupid schoolgirl all over again.
"Thank you," I tell him. But it's not just for the compliment and I hope he can feel all the meaning behind it, since I'm not good at expressing it with words. It's for being there for me even when things between us were unhinged and bleak. For staying with me that night, helping me through the last few days, even if we weren't together. Just the thought of seeing him again and having a friendship with him is something I never thought I'd have again.
My hands hang limply at my sides, unsure of what to do. I want to hug him, hold his hand, touch him somehow, some way. I want to feel that spark that shoots through me when his skin brushes mine. Our gazes seem connected as though no one else is in the room, and I almost jump out of my skin when Rye thumps me on the back.
"Katniss! You look gorgeous, baby," he says, laughing at my scowl after I've caught my balance. These heels are killing my feet and I may know of an ass to stick one in. "You two making up? There's an unused room down the hall. Don't ask how I know. Or do," he says with a wink before he walks away. I wonder if both heels will fit.
I can't bring myself to look at Peeta. Not because I don't want to take him in that abandoned room and use it the same way I'm sure Rye did, but because I'm afraid I'll see on his face how he really feels. But as I possess no self-control, my eyes snap to his. He's suppressing a grin and he looks just as embarrassed as I feel. I let out a breath straight up into the air that would normally blow wisps of hair off my forehead, but this updo and megaton of hairspray I've been forced to wear in the name of matrimony keep everything in place.
"So," I start, clasping my hands behind my back, trying to move on after Rye's interruption. "I, uh, slept really well the other night. Thank you for staying."
"Of course, of course," he says to me like it was just second nature to climb in bed beside me and sleep there all night.
My arms tingle and my nerves are on full alert, making me feel like I could vomit as the next question leaves my mouth without any thought. "Actually, do you - would you want to come over tonight? Prim will be gone and I'll be alone with just my mom. You could even… stay again." I follow it quickly with the most unconvincingly nonchalant 'only if you want to', and his smile falters a little.
"I, uh, I slept great too, but, um," he swallows and my heart drops at the but he just threw out. "I really think we should talk first."
"Oh," I answer, and to my own ears I sound small and hollow, and I feel about two inches tall.
"There's a lot going on in my head right now and I need to make sure of some things," he explains. I know he's right, but it doesn't change the fact that I want him next to me tonight. And for the rest of the nights that I'm in town. I'll miss him so much when I'm back in L.A.
"Yeah, I understand." I try to wave off my disappointment, thankful for the DJ's voice over the microphone that pulls everyone's attention to the dance floor. The newlyweds are about to share their first dance as husband and wife. My eyes are focused on Prim and Rory as the lights dim and Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud begins to play, but my mind is on my own situation. My own regrets and the emptiness I can't help but feel after Peeta's statement. I wonder what exactly it is that's going on in his head. Is he having second thoughts about the other night? Is Cassie still in the picture? Am I being friend-zoned? None of the smiles and eye-contact we shared over the last few hours matter as my thoughts give way to the worst - that maybe I'll be invited as a guest to Peeta's wedding, instead of being the other half of it.
I'm so distracted by the awful rabbit trail my thoughts have taken that I don't hear the DJ call for all the lovely couples to join Prim and Rory on the dance floor. People bustle around me and I watch as my friends pair up and all the other married people do the same. There are a few bodies left to be wallflowers. Mostly children and the elderly. And me.
I don't dare look at Peeta. I've already put myself out there. Instead, I plaster on a smile and watch until blond hair, blue eyes and a flash of brilliant white teeth appear in front of me, asking me to dance, but it's not the brother I want. It would be rude to refuse, and so I loop my arm through a man's for the second time today and find myself wishing it belonged to someone else.
"My brother's an idiot," Rye says with a smirk as his arms come around my waist and mine clasp behind his neck. He holds me close enough, but our bodies don't touch anyplace else.
"Why's that?" I ask.
"He didn't ask the prettiest girl in the room to dance." I purse my lips to hold back a smile, but it doesn't work very well. "You should see the way he's glaring at us. At me, really."
A thought dawns on me. "Why did you ask me to dance?"
"Like I said. You're the prettiest girl in the room." He flashes me a smile that tells me that's only half the answer, and I respond with an arch of my eyebrow. "Aaaaaand I just want to piss him off a little."
"Why would you do that?" I ask as our feet move us in a tight circle. Rye doesn't let go when a new song begins.
"Because I'm a good brother," he smirks, and then his expression and tone turn serious. "He's just scared and he needs a little nudge."
Before I can ask anymore questions, Rye laughs and says "It worked." He presses a quick kiss to my cheek before he steps away in the middle of the song, leaving me gaping at what just happened. When I turn my head to follow him with a confused look, Peeta is there.
"Would you care to dance?" He looks agitated.
"Sure. Are you alright?" I ask as my arms snake up his shoulders and around his neck. This feels much better and I have to fight the urge to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands settle at my waist, as if he's unsure what to do. I finally stop fighting and let my fingers do what they want, which seems to relax Peeta, and he pulls me closer to him.
He breathes in and closes his eyes, fixing me with a smoldering stare when he opens them. "I'm fine now."
Since I've had a break from this one, I'm going to be a butthole and hold the next chapter unless you all talk to me. ;) Was it fluff enough? Too fast? Too slow? Good pace? I'm curious to know how you think it's going to end… Let me hear! Pbg