They are symmetrical on either side of the door. They lean against the frame, listening to the other side. They listen to each other breathing.
"I'm sorry." He says.
This is a difficult time, everything unsettled. This isn't your fault."
"I was so frustrated. I just want you to be happy."
"That's a lot to ask from me, right now. But you make me happy, sometimes. But to see that, you're going to have to deal with me like you did just now."
"Well, it's only fair, since you do the same for me."
They both sigh, at a standstill.
She still wants to sleep, but she wants him in the bed with her. She wants him warm and soft on her skin, stroking her, holding her, crooning to her.
She combs her hair with her fingers, grimacing.
"I don't feel well." She says finally.
"I know, sweetheart. I'm not feeling to hot either."
She shifts around to face the door, as if she could see through it. "What's wrong?"
He grunts. "My leg hurts."
She gets up at this, and unlocks and opens the door. The room is in disarray, blankets ripped from the bed, a side table thrown across the room, clutter scattered over the floor. He smiles at her sheepishly, dark circles under his eyes. His hair is sticking out in all directions. She gazes upon his freckles, distracted by them.
She wants to smile, but can't. She kneels by his side.
"Your leg?"
He rubs his upper thigh, where his real leg ends and the capitol one begins. "It's kind of been bothering me lately."
"hmm." Her two hands wrap around his leg, slowly squeezing and kneading the muscle.
He groans and leans his head back against the door. "That feels nice." He admits gruffly.
She glances up at him and blushes. "I'm not trying to…pleasure you…or whatever. I'm trying to make you feel good."
"Sounds like the same things to me." He gives her a slightly wicked grin.
She grows flustered, removing her hands.
He covers her hands with his and returns them to the seam of man and machine. "I'm sorry. But it made my leg feel better. And when you touch me, well…what do expect me to do? I'm only human."
She lets her hair fall over her face. Emboldened by the cover, she smiles softly.
"I like touching you. You respond to it." her thumbs shift up and down, pressing into his skin.
He pushes her hair out of her face. "You look sad."
"I am. Kind of. This is a very complicated time. All these emotions are still resurfacing and we're trying to make this…thing work somehow while dealing with all this shit."
He considers this tiredly. "I'm sorry."
"It isn't anybody's fault. Well, nobody's fault that's still alive."
"Good point. I guess we're the remains of so many generations of destruction."
"The children of the beast." She murmurs, stilling her movements.
He sighs, missing her touch. She closes her eyes.
"I think I can't let go of Prim because everyone treated this like it was my revolution. The games didn't kill her. The uprising I caused did."
"How about we just blame Gale and hate him?"
She's meant to laugh at this, but she just shifts her weight, leaning on her hip, legs tucked underneath her. "You know that didn't help either."
"I would help me sleep at night, knowing my competition was…"
"Enough with the competition stuff. I've had enough competing in my life to make me sick of it forever. Gale will never be you. There was a time where maybe I could have loved him like I love you, but we can't go back to that time. Too much has changed. But I won't hate him."
"I'll accept that."
"And I don't want to touch him. Just you. I like you."
"Katniss, if I didn't know any better, I'd start thinking you didn't hate sex."
"You're never going to let that go, are you?"
He cradles her face in his hands, smiling proudly. "Never." He declares.
She buries her face under the crook of his neck. "Peeta?"
"Yes?"
"Is it bad that I still want to go to sleep?"
"I'd like to sleep too. I'm worn out."
"Can we?"
He lifts her, silently, and places her on the mattress, gathering the blankets from across the room. She pulls off her dress and lies in her underwear, and he pulls off his shirt and jeans, stumbling his way out of his socks. She smiles slightly.
"You didn't need me to help you return to yourself." She points out as he slides in next to her. They curl towards each other, his leg somewhere between her soft thighs, her fingers around one of his wrists, his hand tucked under her back.
He looks at her pointedly for a minute, before sighing and closing his eyes.
"It just took a little time. But I didn't have to help you. We got through it. I mean, you made sure that I got myself out of harm's way before anything even happened."
"It kills me that I hit you." he murmurs.
She brushes her fingertips over his lips. "Snow wanted you to hit me. He wanted me to sacrifice everything to get you back and then to damage me further by having you hate me. And he almost got what he wanted. But you're too strong." She kisses his cheek. "Peeta, what you went through…what your mother did…that's different. We're not like that."
"I love you." he whispers, and his brow is so furrowed and tired. "I'm so sorry; I wish that we could…"
"Shh, let's just sleep," her lips brush over his. "You're so tired, honey. Let's just go to sleep."
"You'd be such a good wife. You want to take care of everyone and protect them."
"You'd make a better husband."
"I doubt it."
"Peeta?"
"Yes?"
"I think I definitely want to marry you someday."
A/n Surprise! Happiness? What is this "happiness" of which you speak? I clearly suck at writing that emotion. Anyway, review, and you'll get to see what happens next much, much sooner. In-depth reviews make me write like a speed demon.