((A/N Hey guys! Sorry I didn't update yesterday... I meant to, but with the Olympics and all... teehee :) Anyways, SO I'm thinking about writing another fanfic [hold your applause], around the concept of my 'special chapter'. For those of you who didn't know, it's a Gale/Madge thing haha. I wouldn't start it for a week or two, but once it's up, would you guys read it? Just wondering :) Read on and Review!))
Without being dramatic, by the time the interviews end I'm exhausted. Despite the fact that I woke up not four hours ago. And the fact that Peeta's done ninety percent of the talking. And the fact that I've just been curled up on the couch.
Okay, I'll admit it. I'm not exhausted (referring to sleep deprivation), I'm just tired of these Capitol people and their funny accents.
As the last one files out of our house, he ducks to avoid the doorframe even though he's shorter than me. It's his purple hair that adds another foot to his height that he's worried about. I have to smirk as he bends his neck in extraordinary ways to fit into the car that's waiting for him.
"They're an odd bunch." Peeta laughs, running his fingers through his hair as he does when he's relieved.
"Says the boy who painted himself into the ground, to the girl who his literally been a human torch." I give him a slight wink before disappearing into the kitchen. I'm famished, and Haymitch has my last slab of meat plastered to his brand new black eye.
"Well, what would you like?" Peeta comes up behind me as I pick my way through the cabinets, searching for something suitable for consumption.
"Lamb stew." I mutter under my breath, severely missing the delicacy I have found nowhere but in the Capitol. And the arena, but that's not a candidate for my interest at this point in time.
"Lucky you." Peeta breaks into a huge grin, and I can't help but wonder what's going through his mind.
"What?" I ask as he stares at me with a stupid grin.
"I'll be right back." He kisses me on the cheek before literally skipping out the door. Two seconds later his head sticks back in and scans the living room before skipping back inside, wrapping his arm around Haymitch, and skipping back out again. Of course the last 'skip' wasn't really a skip, considering Haymitch is letting Peeta support his deadweight. They look more like a pair scrambling for the door during an exorcism. Flailing limbs and out-of-place bursts of laughter.
I let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. My fingertips drum against the countertop as I await their return, completely confused.
Mid-drum my fingers freeze and eyes widen. Suddenly I find myself scrambling to find a calendar, digging through boxes that haven't been unpacked yet. Moving in with Peeta was a long-term goal that happened within ten minutes of arriving home.
I find a calendar. It's one that the Capitol must have given us, because I know neither Peeta nor I would ever own a male swim-suit model based anything, let alone a calendar. I'll admit that I have an irrational fear of Speedos.
I flip it open and count the days since we arrived home.
Eight.
We were dropped off in District Twelve on April 30th.
Peeta and Haymitch burst through the front door, singing terribly off-key, but in a heartwarming way. In Peeta's hands, he carries some deliciously familiar smelling food, covered in a silver dome. They march into the kitchen, setting the platter on the table, and finish their song facing me. I crack up, opening my arms to both of them.
I'm surrounded by arms that care about me, something I find very rare in my life. And I adore it, the feeling of being truly loved, instead of my Capitol admirers.
My own stomach gets in the way of our embrace, the rumbling making Haymitch laugh. He's suddenly recovered from his hangover, causing me to wonder if it all was an act. But as he pulls a flask from his jacket, I know it wasn't.
"Want some lunch, birthday girl?" he asks gleefully.
"I do." I'm lead to my seat, where Peeta takes the lid off of the platter he'd brought in. The wonderful aroma fills my nose, and my smile grows bigger. Lamb stew.
Peeta and Haymitch try to make a conversation during our meal but I just respond with nods and grunts, my mouth never empty enough to form words.
When I'm finished stuffing my face I lean back in my chair and look down at my bulging stomach. I wonder to myself if this is what it feels like to be pregnant. My mother never told me; at least I'd never heard it from her, because every time she'd mention pregnancy I'd flee from the room. But curiosity floods my mind, and I pat my abdomen.
"I'd better get going. Effie's going to have a fit when she sees what I've done." Haymitch stands up from his seat. I realize he's referring to his face-plant earlier this morning. Every camera was turned on him, so I'd imagine they have a recording of his fall from every angle, and in every clarity possible. The thought brings a smile to my face.
He excuses himself from the table and I'm silent until I hear the door click shut.
"Happy birthday!" Peeta exclaims for the fourth time today.
"I cannot believe you remembered."
"How could I forget, Katniss?" he chuckles, and I realize he'd never forget my birthday, no matter how much ether and venom mixed into his system.
It's the same way with me. I'm pretty good with remembering dates, but Peeta's is etched into my brain. October 12th. He shares a birthday with my father.
I have a reason to remember his, but today for the past nineteen years has been a normal day for all of us. I'd never gotten so pampered on my birthday before.
My mother had once tried to bake, but the cake fell apart in her hands. That day, she was glad she had followed the road to the infirm, instead of the hungry.
After we've cleaned off the table and fixed ourselves up, Peeta asks me what I want to do for my 'special day'. Immediately I know what I want to do.
I order him to grab all of the blankets and food we have, and stuff it into my game bag. He seems confused, but he obeys my orders as I watch with a smile.
"Katniss?" he looks up at me as he bends over to fill the large burlap sack.
"What?" I bat my eyelashes innocently.
Peeta raises an eyebrow at me, and snorts. "Never mind."
I smile smugly as he stuffs blankets into the bag, making it bulge with contents.
When it's full to the top with various cloths and foods, he throws it over his shoulder and asks, "So… now what?"
"Follow me." I march out the door, allowing myself to whistle simple tunes to show my happiness.
Peeta follows without question as I stroll through the District, making my way to the nearest gate.
After the Capitol was overthrown and the rebels had won, every person was allowed to travel to any District of their choice. But the fences around each District were kept up, as a defense mechanism against wild animals. However, gates were incorporated into the fences, so that going out into the woods was no longer a challenge that included scurrying under barbed wire or climbing extremely tall trees. Now, the most difficult part of exiting the District was lifting the latch on the gate.
Peeta doesn't ask questions as we trudge through the forest, but it might be because he's winded. The bag on his back looks pretty heavy.
"Give me that." I say about two miles into the woods. I begin to tug the bag off his back.
"No, I got it." Peeta refuses my offer to help. His grip tightens on the sack.
"Peeta." I don't loosen my grip any more than he does. I know I'll lose in a game of tug-of-war against him, but I'm not going down without a fight.
"Katniss." He mocks me with a playful poke to my ribs. I refuse to smile, although my anger is fake. I'm sure he knows this.
"For my birthday, I want to carry the bag." I have to grit my teeth to keep from breaking my composure.
"That's the worst present ever." He chuckles. "How about this. You can carry the bag, if I can carry you!" he drops the load off his back and swoops me over his shoulder in one quick movement. I pound my fists against his back as he holds me over his shoulder, and my kicks that are meant to unbalance him don't even make him stumble.
Eventually he lets me stand back on my own two feet, and I see that his face is bright red with laughter. I cross my arms, staring at him in fake annoyance. Then my cover breaks and I'm laughing with him. It's like I can't not smile around this boy.
"So we're agreed?" he says, his eyes sparkling.
I nod once, and even though we haven't spoken it aloud, we have come to a silent agreement. We will both carry the bag.
It's things like this, things that shouldn't make me so happy yet still manage to do so, that keep me smiling the entire way to our destination. Although the journey takes twice as long because Peeta isn't surefooted in the least, it seems like it's only a few minutes later when we get there.
I stop at the end of the trail, which causes Peeta to bump into me.
"Whoops, sorry Kat…." He trails off, and I can tell he's in awe.
He has the same reaction I had when I first came here. I think it's impossible not to be amazed.
The water level seems higher than usual, making everything around it a vivid green. Reflecting the clear dusk sky, the water is rippling with colors from bright blue to the orange of the sunset.
"Where…? What…? Who…?" Peeta stutters. His awe-stricken reaction brings yet another smile to my face.
My cheeks are starting to hurt.