Phew! Took me ages but finally I got this chapter ready. In addition to my computer problems I got hit hard with writers' block (for this story and for "Labyrinth"). Ironically enough another big problem I had with this chapter is that it ended up way longer than my chapter limit. It goes to show that writers' block does not equal one's best writing since upon reading through the whole thing I found several sections that were easy to lift out. However, there are some parts that would definitely have been better if I'd had the space to flesh it out more.
But, I'm guessing you didn't click on this chapter to read my opening ramblings so I won't ramble any further. Hope the read is worth the wait!
I wake the next morning and don't immediately realize that something is out of the ordinary. My nose fills with the smell of freshly baked bread and scrambled eggs and I only open my eyes a little bit, letting my body slowly come out of slumber. Then I become aware that my neck is in an uncomfortable position and it dawns on me that I never awake to the smell of breakfast being made. I open my eyes fully with a frown, momentarily confused as to why I'm in the guest bedroom downstairs. As I sit up I feel a wryneck on my left side and I groan, rubbing the aching muscles. Peeta is gone though the smell of breakfast would have to be the product of someone's efforts so that makes sense. I can't quite make up my mind if it annoys me that he got out of bed without waking me.
The door pushes open and Peeta comes walking in with a tray. He's got eggs, teacakes, a glass of orange juice and tea ready for me. Not quite sure what to do or say I scoot further up on the bed to make room for the tray, which is of the kind that my mother used to use for patients who stayed overnight here, the kind that has legs that can be folded out allowing it to serve as a tiny table of sorts. Peeta sets the tray across my lap. He then leans in and gives me a soft kiss right on the corner of my mouth.
"Good morning. I hope you don't mind I made you some breakfast in bed."
Mind? I had no idea this was a concept that could be implemented for people not in a sickbed and it's a very pleasant surprise. The only thing I'm not so sure about is that there's only food for one here. Did he already eat? Are we eating separately? Is Haymitch here? Johanna too?
"It looks great" I offer. "Smells even better. What about you? Did you eat already?"
"No" is all he offers in response, sitting down on the edge of the bed. No inclination as to whether he plans on joining me here or in the kitchen.
"How come?" I ask.
"I wanted to finish making breakfast for you before you woke up." He smiles, one of those smiles that sends pleasant shivers down my spine, and his eyes are so blue in the morning light that it's almost ridiculous. "I'm just going to run out and get the paper if that's okay by you."
"Then are you going to eat? I feel stupid eating alone when you're the one who made everything."
His smile grows a touch wider.
"Clearly you haven't been pampered enough in your day" he says, getting up from where he's sitting. "I'm going to have to remedy that. Be back in a flash!"
He leaves the room and through the slightly open door I can see him throwing on his right shoe with little ease and struggling a bit with getting the left one on the prosthetic. He leans forward and quickly ties the shoes, double-knotting the laces. I feel the slightest breeze of fresh morning air as he opens the front door and a second later I hear it close behind him. Careful not to knock the tray, or anything on it, over I reach behind me and arrange two pillows behind my back so that I can sit more comfortably. Then I lean back and sigh with contentment, smiling to myself as I enjoy the moment. Waking up with Peeta in the house. Would have preferred waking up with Peeta in bed beside me but I can live with this arrangement too. I allow myself the luxury of a daydream, picturing this becoming a habit, having Peeta bring me breakfast in bed. It's hard to silence the longing inside to thank him with a kiss, a real on-the-lips kiss, when he comes back but I know this is not the time. There will be no such kissing until it serves to seal our decision to build a life together.
I think back on our long talk last night. Difficult as it was, not to mention emotionally exhausting, I feel rather good about it. It feels like it was something that needed to happen, a threshold we needed to cross, and now we can progress. I suppose Peeta was right – I did need to hear some of what he had to say about his thoughts and feelings about his ex-fiancée and I needed to tell him about all the things that have hurt. It wasn't fun while it was taking place but now in the aftermath I feel liberated.
I'm drawn from my thoughts when the front door opens and closes again. Quickly I take a bite from the teacake, moaning slightly at the rich flavour, the melted butter and the orange marmalade Peeta has put on it. I can hear him rustling about in the kitchen for a few minutes and then he comes back with another tray, this one for himself. Tucked under his arm is the newspaper. I rarely read it in the morning but I know he likes to. I scoot closer to the wall, lifting the tray to bring it with me, and make room for him. We smile at each other as he sits and I arrange a pillow for behind his back while he gets the tray in position.
"I almost forgot" he says, picking up a small flower from his tray and placing it on mine. "The lady should have a flower. This was the only kind I could find, though."
Speechless I take the stem of the flower between my thumb and index finger and hold it up closer to my face. A dandelion from my yard. I let them grow wherever they want around the house, not caring in the slightest that they're technically a weed. My fingers gently graze the yellow petals and a strange surge goes through me. I look at Peeta, wondering if he knows the significance of this flower, but while he gives me a pleased smile he doesn't seem to connect anything in particular to the flower itself. He opens the paper and holds it with one hand, digging in to his scrambled eggs with the other. My eyes return to the flower and reverently I set it back on the tray. He gives me a sideways glance and then in a slow and hesitant fashion, allowing me for ample opportunity to tell him to stop, wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer until I find myself comfortably cocooned against him. We then eat our breakfasts in silence but my heart is full with warmth and hope and I allow myself a few more moments of pretending this is our normal morning routine.
Peeta stays until lunch, inviting me to come over for dinner before he leaves. I spend the afternoon watching television with Buttercup, not feeling like going outside since it's still kind of cold. As the hours go by I process the events of the previous night, going over every little detail as far as I can remember them. Our conversation late in the evening was difficult and it needs to be dissected in my mind again and again before I can put it aside. For the most part though I feel good about it. Even the difficult parts eventually did lead to something good and I know that there's no way we can ever get to where we want to be without facing the things that hurt.
Truth be told I am a little glad that Johanna will most likely be there for dinner. As I change into a warmer shirt and put my shoes on I decide it's kind of nice to know we'll just be having a normal dinner and evening and the subject of Peeta and I – Us – won't be a factor. We can just spend time together.
It's windy out and despite the short distance to Peeta's house I'm freezing a little when I open the door and hurry inside. I can smell food cooking and I hear Johanna's voice talking with Peeta only answering with a word or two here or there. Kicking off my shoes and casting a glance at myself in the mirror I call out a greeting and receive one in return from Peeta. Johanna seems too busy talking to him to send a word in my direction.
I walk into the kitchen and immediately freeze. Johanna looks the same as always but Peeta does not. The Peeta I woke up with this morning had ashen locks that, yes, might have grown a bit too long. This Peeta does not sport those locks. In fact he barely has hair at all. When he sees my reaction he makes a face that's a cross between a cringe and a crooked smile.
"Yeah I know. I told her not to cut it quite that short."
"Well what's the point of cutting the damn hair if you're only going to chop off a millimetre?" questions Johanna. "You were the one who whined that it was too long anyway."
"When you said you would cut my hair for me I didn't realize you planned on balding me."
"Oh boo-hoo, you're not bald" snorts Johanna and tends to something in a pot on the stove. "I left a good half a centimetre."
"It looks terrible" I blurt out, earning me an offended look from Johanna.
"Cry me a river, it will grow back" she snorts.
Peeta rolls his eyes at her and walks over to me, nodding in the direction of the sitting room. We head there together and he stops in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist but I'm too preoccupied with his new look to enjoy the closeness. With a deep scowl I reach up and run my hand over his head, disliking the new feel and really missing the curls my fingers ought to be tangling in.
"You hate it" he states in a low voice, trying to keep Johanna from overhearing.
"It's… I mean… You're supposed to have curly hair."
"It's the last time I trust her with something like this" he mutters. "I wore it this short when I was in the Capitol after the war but that was different… Johanna's been in a weird mood all day, though."
"How long until it grows back?" I complain.
"Too long" he sighs.
"Hey Peeta!" comes Johanna's voice from the kitchen. "I thought you said you had milk at home!"
"No, I said I'm out of milk" Peeta answers her in an annoyed tone.
"Well I need some damn milk!"
Peeta makes a face and looks at me.
"You wouldn't happen to have milk at home?"
"No, sorry."
"You're going to have to do without, Johanna."
She appears in the doorway, leaning against the doorpost with a scowl as she taps a large wooden spoon against her arm.
"You'd better be kidding me, blondie! I'm making dinner for you and Katniss and you can't even go buy some milk?"
"You do realize it will take me more than half an hour to get the milk and come back here?"
"Then you'd better leave right away."
With a sigh Peeta caves and takes his arms off me, sending me an apologetic look before he heads for the door. Johanna berates him for not having milk at home when he's a baker but he ignores her as he laces his shoes and grabs his jacket. He gives me one more look before heading out and the second the door closes behind him Johanna turns to me, tosses the spoon on the kitchen table and ushers me back into the sitting room.
"I don't actually need any milk" she reveals. "Just wanted to get rid of him for a while. We're long overdue for a girl talk, you and I."
Oh boy. There's no way this is going to be fun. I find myself feeling quite annoyed, angry in fact, realizing I won't be getting dinner in a long while yet. With a scowl and my arms crossed over my chest I demonstratively plop down in an armchair and make no effort to seem the slightest bit accessible.
Johanna could of course care less.
"Peeta doesn't say much about the status of your current… relationship" she says, giving me a pointed look on the last word as she sits down on the couch. "He's all 'blah, blah, blah, it's private, I'm not going to discuss with you the things Katniss and I talk about'. He so clearly doesn't grasp the concept of sharing the dirt with your friends. You, on the other hand, have no such qualms so I figured I'd get the skinny from you."
"Excuse me?" I say.
"That friend of yours from last night sure seems to be in the know" she says, giving me a pointed look.
"Max talked to you about Peeta and me?" I ask, a strong feeling of discomfort developing in the pit of my stomach. I hadn't pegged him for someone who would talk to others about the private things I discuss with him. Besides, he doesn't really know all that much.
"Not per se. I definitely got the feeling though that he knows more than I do." She makes a face. "You know, he's quite the asshole."
"For knowing more about my feelings for Peeta than you do?"
"No, for being an asshole."
My irritation turns to confusion. I suppose I figured Johanna and Max would get along splendidly. They are similar in several ways and Max seemed appreciative of her last night when she first showed up with Peeta. I almost wonder if Johanna is being sarcastic and I'm just slow on the uptake, as per usual.
"Why?" I ask. "What's wrong with Max?"
"He has vocal chords, for starters" snorts Johanna. "Which he uses to showcase his less-than-stellar attitude. You should have heard the way he talked about Peeta, for one."
"That's just Max" I say, rolling my eyes slightly as some of his more colourful comments come to mind. "He doesn't mean anything by it. He likes getting a reaction out of people and he-"
"And he's an asshole." She gives me a displeased look. "I don't know how you stomach listening to him."
"Because I know he doesn't mean it" I say. "And, because I don't want to give him the pleasure of knowing he's gotten a reaction out of me."
"Well he got a reaction out of me" snorts Johanna. "I clogged him."
"You did what?" I ask, my jaw dropping.
She smirks, not even trying to hide how pleased she is with herself.
"He deserved it. I doubt he'll be making any further comments about the guy I was tortured alongside with, at least not while I'm around." Then she looks less pleased. "Although once I hit him his dad, who clearly has no sense of humour or justice, kicked me out."
"Yeah I should think so!" The thought of it makes me groan. "Johanna those people are my employers."
"Whatever" she shrugs, a slightly distant look on her face. "Though I admit it would have been nice to stick around for a while longer. Why aren't you friends with Mr. Asshole's brother instead? Much nicer, much less talkative…"
I touch the three middle fingers of my hand to my brow, shaking my head slightly, wondering if this is all a joke. Johanna punched Max but apparently took a liking to Milo? I had no idea leaving her among other people would be so dramatic. What are Max's parents going to say about the friend I introduced to them? And what exactly did Max say? I find most of his comments to be harmless, no real venom behind the words. Either she misread him completely or he must have said something that he's never said to me.
"Anyway…" says Johanna, slowly snapping out of the slightly dreamy look on her face and turning her eyes to me. "I noticed Peeta didn't come home last night. He wouldn't say anything about it when he showed up today but he didn't look like a guy who spent the night having wild sex so I'm guessing you two indulged in that tired old brand of platonic bed-sharing you practically patented back in the day?"
"Johanna what's it to you?" I ask with a sigh. "You weren't there when Peeta returned to Twelve and told me he no longer loved me. You weren't there when he had a pre-toasting party. You weren't there in the aftermath when it all turned into chaos."
"Yeah, neither one of you updated me on the status of his feelings for you when he came back to this dump, I was a little bit busy undergoing therapy for a rather crippling phobia of water on the week when he dumped his bride-to-be and I was recuperating back in Seven in the days that followed. I'm here now and it's plain to see that both of you are woe-ing over the messy status of your love affair. I'm guessing you haven't had that many people to talk it over with other than drunk old Haymitch and Mr. Asshole so from the goodness of my heart I thought I might lend an ear." She sees me rolling my eyes and her eyes narrow. "Maybe you've listened too much to that guy and become more callous than you used to be."
"Max has not made me more or less callous than I already was" I reply. "You don't know him. You don't know how much he's helped me. Yes he's crude and uncouth and has quite the mouth on him but have you ever heard yourself talk? I don't want to talk about Max and I'm not too sure I want to talk to you about Peeta."
"Do you talk to Peeta about Peeta?"
"Okay I don't even know what that means."
"You spent last night talking, right? I mean, that's pretty much as close to action as the pair of you ever get, yes?" Without waiting for me to give a snarling reply she continues, her hand waving as if to tell me to be quiet. "Did you start off by opening up to him about everything he does, and did, that's pissed you off?"
"No" I grumble.
"Shocker" she says dryly.
"None of what was said between us is any of your business" I snarl. "I don't find it easy to just spell out my every inner emotion and stuff that's been bottled up for months and years doesn't unravel easily for me. I'm not like Peeta."
"And is Peeta like?"
"He didn't seem to have any problem letting me know all that's been bugging him" I mutter, turning my face away.
To my surprise Johanna guffaws.
"I'll bet blondie just got tired of waiting for you to dish out the stuff you've been holding back and decided to provoke you." She leaves me no time to wonder if there's any truth to that before prattling on. "Look, you and Peeta need to stop being so damn polite around each other because that's always been what keeps keeping you from getting to the fun parts. One of you needs to get a spine and start charging ahead after what you want, whether it is to bang the other person into oblivion or simply give an 'I love you but you suck for all the following reasons"-speech. What are you both so afraid of anyway? By now you know Peeta wants you and he knows you want him."
I groan inwardly, frustrated by all the thoughts and emotions that fight for dominance inside of me. Right now I need some space to think and feel after what we talked about last night and the last thing I want is a load of advice I never asked for.
"That means a lot coming from someone in a loving, stable relationship" I say icily, feeling a little bit bad when I see in her eyes that my words hurt. "I've told you already I don't want to talk about this. If you want to have a girl talk why don't you give Delly Cartwright a call? Hell, if anyone knows what goes on in the heart and mind of Peeta Mellark it will be her." I get up from my seat and take a few steps towards the kitchen, stopping to give her a look. "And don't hit my friends."
"Don't associate with assholes and I won't have to." Her rebuttal is quick but half-hearted, her eyes still seeming hurt from my previous comment. "Just sit down and shut up if you're not going to talk about anything worthwhile. I'll finish dinner."
I do as instructed and take a seat by the kitchen table, counting the seconds until Peeta comes back. Johanna opens the oven and checks on the chicken then gets to work with the vegetables. She doesn't say much else, her irritation clearly not going anywhere anytime soon. I hear her curse under her breath when she cuts her fingertip on a knife but I figure she won't allow me to help her wash off the blood and put on a band-aid so I don't offer.
Finally the front door opens and Peeta comes back. I resist the urge to fly to my feet and greet him. Johanna doesn't react at all. He walks into the kitchen and looks from one of us to the other, puzzled by the unpleasant atmosphere. He hands Johanna a bottle of milk and she doesn't bother looking at it.
"Don't need it after all. Put it away."
Somehow he manages not to look incredibly annoyed at this and obediently puts the milk in the fridge. He casts another glance at her, seems to determine that she's not worth bothering at the moment, and walks over to me instead.
"The weather's real nice out there" he says. "Want to join me on the porch while Johanna finishes dinner?"
I know the weather is anything but nice but staying in the kitchen with Johanna isn't much nicer so I nod and follow him out the front door, taking a seat beside him on the porch steps. It's still as windy as before but the house shelters us to some degree so at least I don't feel as cold as I did walking over. I wrap my arms around my knees and look at Peeta, trying to get used to the absence of his locks.
"Looks to be a bad summer" I comment.
"Yeah I guess…" He gives me a look and a crooked smile. "So I kind of have an ulterior motive asking you to step outside for a moment. Besides getting out of Johanna's sight. Did you two fight or something?"
"She's meddling" I say sullenly.
"I guess she doesn't have a lot going on in her own life…" he says in a tone that makes me almost feel bad for her, especially considering my jab at her lack of a boyfriend. "Do you want to talk about whatever you two got into?"
"No."
"I'll talk then, if that's okay. I was out of line last night."
"No, Peeta, it's fine" I sigh, not wanting to talk more about this.
"It's not fine" he argues gently. "There were some things I really needed… I mean I… I guess I just needed for you to hear me, you know? And you did. You heard me. I could have handled it much better, I'm afraid. You didn't deserve everything I said to you. Some of it was about my issues and insecurities and I took it out on you."
"And I did the same towards you."
"Yeah but it's not the same…" His hand comes to rest on my shoulder and he brushes his brow to mine for a brief second. "All in all I've had it easier than you in these past years. I needed for you to hear some things but I shouldn't have said it like that. So I'm sorry. I want you to know I have no intention on dwelling on whatever you may or may not have done towards me in the past and I was way out of line making any sort of comments about you and Gale or Max. Who am I to judge whatever you might have done with or felt for them?"
I say nothing because on a rational level I know he's right. He has no right to judge, no right to feel jealous. He was with someone else for a long time and then he left, telling me I was free to see anyone I wanted to. I cannot deny though that I want him to care about that. I really want him to wish I hadn't kissed anybody else or ever been interested in anyone else. I want it to bother him the way it bothered me seeing him with Lace, knowing of him and Lace as an item.
"Anyway…" he says, sighing and turning his eyes to the sky. "I hope that-"
"You two useless faux-lovebirds going to come inside and eat or what?"
We both startle at the sound of Johanna's voice, accompanied by the door banging against the wall as she throws it open. Quickly I'm on my feet, not really in the mood to challenge her temper at the moment, but Peeta hesitates. He seems a little annoyed at the interruption and doesn't back down at her challenging glare. I say his name and nod in the direction of the kitchen and he gets up, one hand on the bannister steadying him.
"Are you okay? Are you going to be nice for the rest of the evening?" he asks Johanna as he passes by her on his way inside.
"I'm not going to punch the devil on Katniss' shoulder again" she answers. "Well, most likely not. Consider that my set level of niceness for this particular evening."
"Wait, who did you punch?"
"I don't want to hear that whole tirade again" I say, grabbing Peeta by the hand and dragging him with me into the kitchen. "Let's just eat."
We spend most of the meal in silence, Johanna and I shooting grumpy glances at one another and Peeta knowing better than to get in the middle of it. It's not until the end of the meal that I think of something to say that I hope might turn the mood brighter, though I'm led in by a remark of Peeta's.
"Don't think I've had a meal this silent since the last time I ate alone" he remarks, scraping up the last of the gravy with his knife.
"I bet even Milo Matson talks more than this at the table" I comment, trying to sound as casual as possible. As I had hoped there's a glint in Johanna's eyes. A part of me almost wants to smirk at her for having such a quick reaction to the mention of a person she only met for a few hours the night before but it occurs to me that she might just be that lonely and even though she's gotten on my nerves tonight I don't want that for her.
"Bet he never gets a word in edgewise with that blabbermouth of a brother" she says but the jab against Max lacks edge. The grumpy look has gone from her face and she's got a sly smirk on her face as she gets up from her seat. "I cooked for you losers so you guys can do the dishes. I think I'm gonna head out and see if… I think I'm going to go for a walk." Obviously she's got something else in mind and I wonder if that something is going to find Milo. It seems outrageous but then again this is Johanna Mason we're talking about. She heads for the kitchen door and stops on the threshold, sending us a smirk. "Bye blondie, bye brainless. Go ahead and not behave yourselves while I'm gone. I think a good, hot romp on the couch would do you both a world of good."
Cheerfully she slams the door shut behind her, leaving Peeta and I startled at the quick shift from grump to upbeat. I almost want to ask Peeta if he thinks she's going to pursue a guy she only met yesterday and barely knows but his expression is a mix between confused and concerned.
"Seriously, what was that all about? What's gotten into her?"
"You know what? I don't really care tonight" I decide, reaching out and placing my hand on top of his. "Let's just enjoy the fact that we're alone right now."
We clean up after dinner. Peeta prepares the dough for tomorrow morning's bread. We then end up lying together on the bed in the downstairs guestroom, the one I used to sleep in after a nightmare. We lie side by side facing one another, close enough that he rests his arm around my waist but not so close that our faces touch. They could though, if we wanted to close that gap. I like having the option, no matter how sure I am that it's not going to happen tonight. I don't mind waiting a little longer for that and Peeta seems fine with it too.
"I hope we have no more interruptions tonight" he says.
"Maybe we should have locked the doors. It would deter Haymitch, though I assume Johanna would just axe her way in."
He chuckles.
"Like she axed my hair off?"
"Seriously, never let that woman cut your hair again." I let my hand run over his scalp, scowling at the unfamiliar feel. "I like the curls. I don't like this look on you."
"The thanks I get from her for giving her food and shelter" he sighs in a feigned dramatic voice. "But let's not waste more time talking about her tonight."
"What do you want to talk about instead?"
"You."
I smile at the warm feeling that flows through me but I know there's actually something else I would rather talk about. Well, there's someone else I feel we ought to talk about. I don't exactly want to but I'd rather get as much of the unpleasantness out of the way as soon as possible so we can focus on the rest later.
"Actually…" I say, my hand leaving Peeta's head and together with my eyes travelling to the collar of his shirt. "I want to know… I still don't know everything that went on between you and Lace those last days before you left, or… now that you've been back."
"I didn't think you wanted to hear about that."
"Honestly I would mind never even hearing about the fabric lace again. But you said you want to stay friends with her and I want to know… well, how things are progressing in that department, I suppose."
"They aren't. Not yet anyway. Once Lace gets back to the district I'm going to go talk to her."
"Gets back?" I echo. Where has she gone, when did she leave and how does Peeta know about it? Has he wanted to spend time with her? Has he been in contact with her?
"Yeah she left for Eight with her brother the day after I came back. Don't care to speculate as to whether or not that was a coincidence. We really need to talk, though."
"I know" I nod, not liking the prospect of the two of them alone together, talking things out. He said he wants to salvage his friendship with her. What else might happen when the two of them are alone?
"Katniss?" Two of his fingers land on my chin and tilt my face up to meet his eyes. "I don't know what thoughts are passing through that head of yours right now but let me be clear about this. I have to speak with her to get closure for us both, and for you I suspect. I want to know that she is doing okay and I think I deserve to be on the receiving end of whatever anger she wants to dish out on me. Maybe after that we could be friends again… but you don't feel comfortable with that, do you?"
"That's not up to me" I protest sullenly. "Don't put it on me if you can't be best buddies with her after all of this."
"I didn't mean it like that" he says gently. "I just meant that… that as much as I would like to be friends with her I want more for you to feel comfortable and secure."
"Well then you can't want to be friends with her anymore" I say bluntly. "I don't want you wanting that. I don't want you wanting anything more to do with her."
"Okay" he says, the hint of a tremble in his voice.
"Oh… okay?"
"I suppose that's what would be best for all of us anyway. She probably wouldn't want to be friends with me for that matter."
"No, you screwed her over good."
I almost regret saying that at the dejected look on his face but then he manages a sad smile and his hand moves briefly from my waist down to my hip and then back up again, distracting me.
"I'm glad you're here with me tonight" he says. "After everything."
"Johanna thinks we should stop walking on eggshells around one another and just… dive into the deep end."
"I know" he nods. She's probably been pestering him with this too. "It's very Johanna-like to think of it that way."
"Max…" For a moment I hesitate, wondering if it's unwise or unsuitable to bring him into a conversation like this. But since I've already said his name I might as well say the rest. "Max thinks we should take things slow. I'm not sure which one of them is right."
"That would probably be Max" says Peeta with no hesitation. "Johanna's suggestion is more passionate, I'll grant her that, but erring on the side of caution can't hurt."
"Aren't you tired of waiting?" I have to ask. "We've lost so much time already… I mean, I don't want to rush into anything but at the same time I'm so damn tired of the things I want always being in the future. That I have to be so damn patient."
"I know."
"Is there no part of you that wants to do as Johanna suggests? Forget all about caution and taking our time and just… going for it?"
I'm not fully buying into Johanna's ideas on this subject, knowing that my heart needs more time and that we have to grow back together step by step, but all the same something about what she said resonates with me. How wonderful it would be to end all this waiting right here and now and kiss him, give in to the longing and the hunger. How bad could the consequences be? Can we not grow together while being together? Most importantly, is Peeta taking this slow because he thinks it is the right thing to do or because deep down he still isn't sure? I know he might never recover from the hijacking and for all I know that might mean that a part of him will always doubt me.
"I want to be with you, very much so" he says and there's no hesitation in his voice and the look in his eyes is steady. "I just don't want it to... I want to deserve you."
"It's up to me to decide whether or not you do" I point out.
"I know from personal experience that when you want something very much you want to grab on to it with both hands if you get the opportunity but later on you might realize you shouldn't have been so hasty. It is up to you to decide what's best for you but if you'll allow me one more selfish moment it's up to me to decide what's best for me. What's best for me is the chance to be with you with no foreseeable end. I believe that in order to achieve that we need to take things slow and I've still got some amends to make." He gives me one of those looks that make my heart beat faster. "Katniss I want you to choose to be with me and to never look back at that decision and regret it. I'm petrified that if we get together too hastily you'll wake one day when the haze of new love has faded and you'll wonder to yourself why you're with this nutcase who isn't the same person you knew before the war. I'm terrified that you'd feel stuck with me, that you can't walk away from me because we're Katniss and Peeta and because I've got so many issues and-"
I cover his mouth with my hand to stop him.
"Just so you know…" I say. "Being tortured and brainwashed does not make you unworthy or undeserving. Mistakes you made after that don't either. We both have issues and I understand if you need more time to work on yours. Once I have you I will not let you go. I've longed for you for far too long to do that."
His smile resonates in my heart and his face moves closer to mine. When he rubs his nose against mine I do not know where I find the willpower not to kiss him. He then rolls over on his back and pulls me close and instinctively I rest my head over his heart, feeling its reassuring thuds through the fabric of his shirt. I close my eyes and enjoy this moment, hope and reassurance filling my mind and heart as I begin to drift off to sleep.
The warm weather finally arrives, though thankfully not as scorching hot as it can be some years. My woods are at the height of life and I find myself more and more often spending time there without doing any actual hunting. It seems wasteful to kill when our stomachs are full; I only lay down prey when our supply of meat or fish has run low. I gather a lot though, various berries and plants that are nutritious and good to eat. I kind of like it, being more of a gatherer this year than a huntress. A more peaceful me.
Johanna ends up staying another eight days after the party, much to Max's dismay. The fact that she seems to be getting along splendidly with Milo doesn't brighten his spirits either. I'm spared most of the drama since unlike the Matson family I don't have much work to do right after school has ended for the summer and consequently I don't spend much time with any of them. Instead I spend time with Peeta. We do normal, everyday things like prepare our meals, go for walks, play card games and watch television on cloudy nights. Peeta gets his hands on an old radio that plays music from the Capitol and sometimes we just sit around listening to the mix of familiar and unfamiliar songs.
Some of the time we talk. It's a slow process to tread through everything that's happened and it takes time to really get into the depth of everything. Aside from my one outburst that night after the party I have trouble expressing my feelings so Peeta spends a lot of time carefully, gently coaxing things out of me at a pace I can be comfortable with. It feels good to be able to open up to him. I'm beginning to feel like I have my best friend back and I know that's got to be the foundation for us to build anything else on.
In July Lace returns to the district and Peeta goes to see her. He doesn't come to see me afterward and when I go over to his place that evening he's sad and emotional. I make the offer to talk about it but he says he isn't ready yet and I suppose I have to respect that. All he will say is that he hopes they can be cordial to each other if they run into one another on the street but beyond that they're not likely to be in contact much. I don't show it openly but I find it to be a relief. The less she wants to do with him the better.
As the summer weeks go by I begin to grow a little restless. We're growing back together, yes, but I'm definitely getting to the point where that isn't enough. I understand why Peeta wants for us to take our time but how much longer should we wait? It hasn't been all that long in the grand scheme of things but I'm so tired of waiting. I keep wondering if I should mention it to him. At this point I could almost worry he's reverted back to only wanting to be friends with me, he so rarely talks about how we feel about each other now and what lies ahead for us, but then he will give me one of those looks or touch my hand in just the right way and that spark will ignite and make me almost lose my breath.
One evening in late July we decide to go out for a walk together after an early dinner. Haymitch declines to go with us, longing to be back home with his bottles I suppose, so it's just Peeta and me. Buttercup actually tags along, trotting beside us for the first couple of hundred yards before he sets off down one of his hunting paths. Peeta's hand is in mine and his voice is filling my ears, telling me stories he read while in the Capitol when he had access to libraries. The air is just the right temperature, just the right touch of humid, and the scent of flowers adds to the ambiance. The sun hasn't really begun to set yet but aside from that detail I would say it's the perfect evening walk.
"Do you want to continue?" asks Peeta when the town comes into view in the distance. "Or go back home?"
"Let's go back" I suggest, stopping and turning my head in the direction we came from. "We can listen to the radio. Play some cards. Maybe just talk."
He nods. We turn and go back to the Victors' Village hand in hand, though I begin to wonder to myself if we are two friends out for an enjoyable evening walk or if we are a couple enjoying the romance of a night like tonight. I decide not to raise the question and I follow Peeta inside his house once we arrive back, kicking off my shoes and taking a seat on the armchair while he turns the radio on and then heads to the kitchen to prepare tea and some sandwiches for us. The sun has begun to set outside the window and the colours could take your breath away. I'm beginning to understand why sunset orange is Peeta's favourite colour. I wonder if he's ever been able to recreate a sunset on paper or canvas.
Peeta comes walking in with the tea and bread on a tray, humming along to a familiar song on the radio. He puts the tray down and follows my gaze out the window, smiling at the sight. He walks over to get a closer look and takes a deep breath through his nose.
"I love sunsets."
"I know you do" I say.
He turns to me and smiles, a glint in his eyes that I didn't see a minute ago. Slowly he walks over to me, his humming stopping as the song on the radio ends and another, unfamiliar one begins. He extends his hand to me and sends me one of those smiles that touches something deep in my heart.
"Dance with me?"
Smiling shyly I take his hand and let him pull me in for a dance. We haven't done this together since the Victory Tour and at the back of my mind I wonder if Peeta still remembers how to dance the way we were taught, but he seems to have no trouble with how to hold me and falls into rhythm as easily as taking a breath. It's odd for the first few seconds, memories of previous dances flashing through my mind, but then it all seems to just fall into place and feel natural. My cheek finds his shoulder. His hand is splayed on my back and it presses me just a touch closer, close enough that we're not just acquaintances dancing but not so close that it feels too intimate.
Together we sway to the music, Peeta leading and me following. I remember having a bit of trouble learning that part, wanting to be the one to take the lead, much to Effie's chagrin. Now it feels good to let Peeta have that control, to not have to think about it and just follow his movements. I close my eyes, enjoying his warmth and his scent. When the music comes to an end we pull apart and our eyes meet. I wonder if it's going to be awkward but Peeta is looking at me with warmth and contentment.
"Thank you for the dance" he says and leans in to place a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth.
My lips part on their own accord even though the kiss is not full on my mouth. His kiss lingers a second longer than necessary and it feels warm and gentle and full of Peeta's steadiness. I feel myself tremble pleasantly.
In the first week of August the chilliness returns. Gone are the warm sunny days and in their place is a series of rainy, windy days with temperatures more like what we're used to see in October. In spite of the weather life continues on much as before and as per usual I head over to Peeta's house to have dinner with him and Haymitch three to four days a week.
One such evening I wrap my arms around myself in an effort to warm up a bit in the cold wind while I wait for Peeta to answer the door. When he does I'm not sure what warms me up more – the heat from inside his house or the smile on his face. He steps aside and lets me in.
"Is Haymitch here yet?" I ask, feeling hungry.
"He's not joining us" says Peeta, closing the door. There's a slightly bashful look on his face that wakens my curiosity. "I, uh… was actually thinking it could be just the two of us. Like a date."
"A date?" I echo, pleasantly surprised.
"We've never been on one. I would much like for us to have one, if it's alright by you."
"Sure" I say with a smile, already wondering which restaurant he has in mind and envisioning the two of us at a candlelit table together, his right foot nudging my feet underneath the table. "I'll keep my jacket on, then."
"No go ahead and take it off" says Peeta.
"But…" I say with a scowl.
"I wasn't thinking a restaurant" he says. "I did that with, well, you know who I did that with…" He takes my jacket as I somewhat reluctantly shrug out of it. "I want to do that with you, too. Just not for our first date. I wanted to do something different, something more… well, more us."
So just another dinner at his house, only this time without Haymitch? Even if Peeta does all the cooking, and I notice there's no smell of food in the house, it will still be much like our ordinary dinners together. In fact we've had dinner together just the two of us before. How would tonight be any different? I try to hide my disappointment as Peeta takes me by the hand.
"Come" he says, a smile on his face that seems both excited and nervous at the same time. I try to make my own smile seem genuine but when he leads me to his sitting room the smile is gone and my chin drops with surprise. "I hope you like it. I hope you think it's okay."
I can't bring myself to answer at first. Peeta has transformed his sitting room for the occasion, pushing back the armchairs and the coffee table to make room for a large blanket and a collection of candles in candlesticks which together with the cackling fire in the fireplace serve as the only source of light in the room besides whatever daylight comes through the clouds. On the blanket he has set out wine glasses and a bottle but also a pitcher of ice water and large glasses to go with that. He's brought out the silverware that belonged to his parents which is not very fancy compared to what the Capitol provides us with but it was special to his mother and father and they kept it at his place for safe keeping. What it lacks for in financial value it makes up for in sentimental. There is also a large picnic basket beside the blanket and the radio is on a low volume, just enough to add some ambiance. It is all lovely and the thought of how long it must have taken him to arrange this more than makes up for the fact that he's not taking me to a restaurant.
"What will you do if Haymitch comes walking over in the hopes of scoring dinner?" I hear myself blurting out.
"Ask him to come back at another time, I guess" he chuckles, running a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Although actually I would probably yell at him, seeing as how he knows about this. I needed a bit of help moving some of the furniture."
"Oh" I say with a little chuckle.
"Yeah, he, uh…" Peeta makes a cringing face. "He also gave me some fairly lewd advice. Followed by some more fatherly advice. He doesn't really seem to be able to make up his mind on the issue. It was weird. In fact, let's not even talk about it."
"You're the only one who is" I tease.
He laughs a little and takes me by the hand, leading me over to the blanket. We sit down together and his hand caresses my cheek, moving up in a circular motion behind my ear, as if tucking an invisible strand of hair back into place.
"You're very beautiful tonight" he says in a tone that sends a thrill through me. I blush, however, glancing down at my casual attire.
"You didn't give me any warning" I say. "I would have worn something prettier. Something more special."
"No, you're perfect the way you are right now" he smiles. "I like the real, everyday Katniss the best, although you do look awfully pretty in a fancy get-up as well."
I notice he hasn't dressed up much for the occasion either. A nicer pair of pants and a shirt he knows I like. It's not something he just threw on without thinking but he also didn't overdress and make me feel too common for the evening. The shirt hikes up a little and reveals a patch of his skin as he shows me what is in the basket – a delicious salad, various cold-cuts, some freshly baked bread and freshly picked strawberries. He's also made some mini-cupcakes with my favourite frosting and when he sees the grin on my face at the sight of them he laughs and asks if I want to start with those. I do.
Despite the fact that I've been engaged and fake-pregnant I've never been on a date before and I'm not entirely sure what to expect on one. Peeta seems to have a better idea and holds the reins which I am very comfortable with. There's a slightly bashful look that keeps appearing on his face every now and then, one that seems to have a direct line to tug on my heartstrings, and I think it's that detail that I like the best. He seems to have put a lot of thought and work into tonight and he's in his most charming mood. Without that bashful look that tells me he's nervous on the inside it might all seem too neat and perfect. I like the crack in the veneer, that tell-tale sign that when it comes down to it he's still just a young man on a date with a girl he likes, nervous that he might mess up or that she might not like what he's put so much effort into.
Once we have eaten we sit close together, side by side but facing one another, our hips touching and our upper bodies aligned to each other. Our brows are touching lightly, Peeta's hands have found their way down my side and into my hair and my own rest on his shoulders. We speak in low voices as if the words we say should only be heard by us even though no one else is here. The sun has set outside, the room is only illuminated by the candles and the fireplace. I realize the music has stopped playing at some point. When did that happen?
"So this is a date, huh?" I mumble with a smile. "It's nice."
"It's a first date, anyway" he mumbles back, mirroring my smile. "Let's try to make each one better than the last."
"Mmm. Quite the sights your setting." I let my hand run through his hair, some length having returned to it but not enough for it to properly curl. He sighs contently at the touch. "This is all lovely, Peeta."
"You deserve the best."
"I like to think we both do."
He gives me another one of those smiles but this time there's something more underneath. His eyes are more serious and I can tell that he hesitates for a second, as if wondering to himself if this is the right time to say whatever it is that's on his mind. I'm just about to encourage him to do so, wanting him to feel comfortable enough to tell me anything on our date, when he begins to speak on his own accord.
"I wish I had half your strength" he says softly, his hand reaching up to caress my cheek. "You are so brave. For a long time I've struggled with my own insecurities and that voice inside my head that tells me no one can love me. That irrational voice that won't seem to shut up no matter how well I know that what it says is bullshit. It's made me… blind to seeing things through your eyes. It's been nagging at the back of my mind, suggesting that because you didn't try to win my heart your feelings may not have been strong enough. I've never faulted you for it because that voice keeps saying that I'm not capable of evoking strong enough love in another person." The hint of a crooked smile flashes across his face but the look in his eyes is dead serious. "Anyway, the point is not woe is me… The point is I was blind to your bravery and I couldn't see that if anything your actions spoke more strongly of love than if you had told me how you felt over and over and over. I cannot imagine what it took for you to put on a mask of platonic friendship and be happy for me. I cannot believe that someone could love me enough to do that for me. And all the while I just kept hurting you, adding weight to your burden. I don't know if I will ever be able to make it up to you but I want you to know that I'm starting to see now. That I recognize what you have done for me and that it makes my heart…" While he's been speaking his arms have slowly moved to wrap around my waist and pull me closer, brows and noses brushing, looking deep into each other's eyes. "I don't actually know how to properly express it. Just know that I love you and admire you for it and that… that I might not be able to full grasp what that must have been like but you amaze me."
I cannot seem to find any words at first so I nuzzle my face against his neck, breathing deeply to fill my nose with the scent of him, feeling his arms wrap tighter around me and cocoon me. After a moment I pull back and look into his eyes.
"You haven't exactly had it easy either" I say in a low voice. "You know what it's like to… when you love someone who…"
"That was different" he says softly, his hand brushing through my hair a few times in a comforting motion. "And I didn't handle it with the selflessness that you did."
"I don't know about that" I say, remembering how he watched over Gale after the whipping.
"I do." He smiles at me and I smile back. "I've made a lot of mistakes. A lot of them. Loving you was never one, though."
I laugh slightly, surprised that I feel relieved to hear him say it. I hadn't thought about it before but it's comforting to know he doesn't regret his feelings for me despite the difficulties it has put him through over the years.
I long to kiss him. We look at each other and it feels like electricity sparks between us. Like we're waiting for something to happen. His hands find their way to my cheeks and I move a hand to rest behind his neck. Our noses brush. Then our brows. He's not in any rush though. He closes his eyes for a second and sighs contently.
"Katniss…"
Just do it already. What is he waiting for? His eyes open again and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, sending a jolt through my body all the way to my core. My heart is beating like crazy. His eyes go to my lips and then back up to my eyes. I feel about ready to burst.
Finally, finally he moves his mouth towards mine. Just as our lips are about to touch something comes over me and I find myself pulling back. I'm not even sure why at first. In the back of my head I hear Max's voice warning me not to move too fast and I have an instinctive feeling that this is not the right moment. I'm not ready, now that the opportunity actually presents itself. I want to wait. For what, I'm not sure. Maybe it's knowing that when our mouths do meet there will be no turning back. I'm definitely ready to kiss, I realize, but I'm not sure I'm ready for everything that comes with it.
When I pull back confusion and pain at the rejection flashes in Peeta's eyes. He smiles though, trying to reassure me that it's okay.
"Not yet" I breathe against his cheek.
"You're going to be the death of me" he says, groaning then chuckling. "I guess I deserve it. I can wait."
"Can you?" I challenge.
"Yeah. I don't really want to" he laughs. "But for you I can wait. You're worth it. And I want it to feel right. I want you to feel ready for it. We've had far too many kisses for all the wrong reasons."
I can't help but wonder if it's a mistake placing so much significance into one kiss. Perhaps we're on the wrong track here. Perhaps we could indulge in kissing and let forever be something that happens later. Hanging it all up on our new first kiss might just be creating an expectation we can't live up to.
Peeta has pulled back a little however and seems disappointed but not discouraged. There's another part of me that thinks waiting might be good. If he can wait to kiss me again then surely he can also wait to one day take our relationship to the nudity stage. Because he might be experienced but I am not and I know I will have to take that particular part slow. Although at the same time I cannot deny that some primal part of me is excited and curious and can't wait for the day when we're touching each other in the most intimate of ways.
Our date continue for a little while longer and we spend most of that time lying together on the blanket, our arms wrapped around each other. Then I decide it's time to call it a night before that thing I can only interpret as sexual tension rises further between us and overshadows everything else. We get up on our feet, Peeta rejects my offers to help him clean up and we walk to the door. We stand there for a while, the door open and me halfway out of it but unwilling to leave. Again our faces are so very close, noses almost brushing, and by now my heart has been beating heavily in my chest for so long I almost worry about health effects. Our voices are still low as we thank each other for the evening we're shared and bid each other a good night. Peeta kisses my brow, his lips pressing against my skin for a long time, and that is as close as we get to a goodnight kiss.
Reluctantly I pull away and walk back to my own house, feeling warm and happy and excited while also pleasantly exhausted and ready for bed. I turn around right before I open my door and as I expected I see Peeta still standing on his front porch, waiting for me to go inside my house before he goes back inside of his. I smile but I know he probably can't see it in the darkness. Then I go inside and close the door.
A short while later, when I am in bed, I relive all my favourite moments from my first date. My hands begin to move over my body on their own accord and for a while I try to imagine that my small, dainty fingers are actually Peeta's stronger, thicker ones caressing my skin. My hand ends up reaching inside my panties and I gasp at the sensation, gently biting down on my lower lip. Blushing even though I know nobody saw me I pull my hand back and try to settle in for the night but it's difficult to relax and I don't really want to let go of this wonderful feeling. I fall asleep with a smile on my face. I don't know when that happened last.
I can't recall if Katniss ever mentions breakfast in bed at any point of the book... I choose to believe she doesn't ;) Not sure if Johanna will return or if I'll do anything with her/Milo, I had plans to but there wasn't room for it. Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope I'll have the next chapter up soon.