I am once again ruining my wonderful nineties theme but I'm not reaching as far back as the 1940's like I did last time so don't worry. Instead, I'm only going 8 years back to 1982 with a very accurate song, my favourite song in the world, to go with this chapter which I hope (so long I don't change my mind) will be sweeter than the previous one. The song is from the TV show (not the movie but I'm sure it's been used in movies) Ashes To Ashes from the UK. The song is Only You – Yazoo.
Anyway, anyone who cares knows the deal here. I do not own THG, any of its cast or wonderful characters. I also don't own the song that you'll see the lyrics of, or the movies / TV shows they belong to.
Light In The Dark
'Looking from a window above, it's like a story of love, can you hear me? Came back only yesterday, I'm moving further away, want you near me...'
Peeta grumbles as he wakes up to the soft sounds of the radio beside him, leaning over and turning it off before it can wake up the sleeping woman near him.
He had just spent the night on the floor, sleeping on some pillows with a blanket draped over him, still in his trousers and shirt from the night before, his head pounding and he wishes it was from alcohol intake.
Last night had been awful.
Never in his life has he been so scared, having to act calm whilst the woman he's very quickly beginning to fall for, if he's not already there, sobbed and vomited, thinking she was dying and begging him to save her.
In his time as a Doctor, though a short time so far, he's never felt such blinding panic and fear, never felt so helpless even when patients have died on him on a hospital bed. The way he felt the night before was how he felt as a child, petrified and seeing no way out, seeing no light at the end of the tunnel, the fear gripping him like a monster under the bed at night.
It's his fault, which just makes everything one hundred times worse. He was the one who brought her to the party, even though he thought it was just dinner and a few drinks. That dinner and a few drinks never happened, and neither did the party, not really.
Katniss had been shocked when everyone had jumped out to surprise her, but she had seemed to calm down and he thought she'd be okay. Someone had pulled him aside and so he'd left her, and he never should have left her side because the next time he saw her, she was having the worst panic attack he had ever seen someone have in the bathroom, feeling like she was dying and sobbing furiously in his arms.
Madge had managed to keep everyone away but he knew Katniss felt humiliated after. She was exhausted, curled up in his arms and still shaking from her episode, but he had seen the fear of everyone seeing her in her eyes, he had seen her tears after because of embarrassment. So instead of even trying to get her up and try to act normal, he had carried her in his arms back to his car and driven her back to Finnick and Annie's, before carrying her to her room and putting her to bed.
She'd fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, her hand grasping his tightly, and he hadn't the heart to leave her. So, he had built a makeshift bed on the floor and spent the night by her side, waking up every few hours to check on her, and because he couldn't sleep.
It was terrifying for him, to see the woman he cares about so deeply that way. To see her sobbing and telling him she was scared. That's what had really killed him, hearing her tell him she was scared. Katniss, to him and to everyone else, is usually so put together and strong, she shows no emotion and tries to remain vague about her life before moving to Four. She tries to help others if she can, though she doesn't dwell on it if she can't like he does, and though she scowls and pretends not to care, he knows she does.
To have her be scared of something, of a situation, that he had unknowingly put her in. Well, it broke his heart.
As a child, he spent most of his time being afraid. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing, being in the wrong place a the wrong time, having the wrong facial expression, breathing to loudly. He had been terrified to move in his own home for fear of his mother taking out her anger on him. He'd once burnt bread by accident in the bakery and she'd hit him so hard he had bruises for weeks.
Though, for him it was always her words that hurt more than her physically punching him. The older and stronger he got, the less those hits hurt, and the more he could move and move faster made it that much easier. But he could never truly escape the words she would spit at him.
Pathetic.
Disappointment.
Waste of space.
Unlovable.
Those were a very select few she used to love to spew at him, especially when he was at his lowest, say he got a bad grade on a report card or someone at school had upset him or he had fallen over and scraped his knee. She would tell him exactly how awful he was, what pathetic crybaby he was, that he shouldn't be so sensitive, what woman would ever love a man like him?
If his own mother couldn't love him, how could anyone else?
Even thinking about it makes his heart clench, and he pulls his knees to his chest as the words settle on him. She was right, of course, about him. He is sensitive, things hurt him and there is nothing he can do about it, he tried to be harder and to be more like his rough and tumble brothers but he had no chance. They enjoyed football and rugby and contact sports that broke bones, and whilst he was good at wrestling – though he came second to his brother, which his mother loves to point out- in school, he didn't enjoy it that much.
He much prefers his own company, most of the time, though he does enjoy getting to know people and he has friends, he's friendly with people and he has never struggled in the social skills department. But he enjoys being left to his own devices, whether it is to bake or paint, or to just read a book or stare out the window and not do anything at all.
His mother had hated it, hated him.
Glancing back at Katniss, he sighs, the peaceful look on her face doing nothing to quiet his fretting mind. Last night, he felt worse than useless, which he feels he was. Madge found her, managed to get her to calm at least a little bit, and though he may have held her, he doesn't fell like he did anything worthy of mentioning. She did it on her own; she was strong enough to do it on her own. He knew that, she just needed reminding.
She's so much like him, and yet at the same time she's the complete opposite. Her past, though he only knows small doses of it, is eerily similar to his, with different people involved but the premise is the same.
It kills him to think she ever suffered the same torture he did, the hateful words, the beatings, the way he knows she's been forced to do things no person should ever have to do. Though he's never had to do even half of the things she did, he has been hit and verbally assaulted more times than he can count.
At first, at home, when he was a young boy of barely five, his mother wasn't that bad. She would yell at him, call him names, though he doesn't remember it too much and what mother didn't yell at her child? It wasn't until he was older; maybe nine or ten, and he'd seen how the other mothers were when their children were upset that he'd even thought differently.
He'd known Delly Cartwright since they were both in the womb, their parents being friends – rather, their fathers being friends, not their mothers- and he'd seen how her parents were with her.
When she made a mistake, they scolded her but then taught her how to fix it. If she cried, they would console her, find out the root of the problem and make things better. If she acted up, they would reprimand her and tell her to never do it again, but there was no real heat to their words, and her father always had a kind smile for after.
He wishes he could have been given her childhood instead of the one he got, but then that would mean Delly wouldn't have gotten it, and he'd rather be the one suffering if it meant saving someone else from that pain.
It was no surprise; the broken little boy from a broken home wanted something different. He just wanted to be free, to be able to live without the fear of someone getting angry and beating him for doing one wrong move. His father, sure, was kind, and the only happy memories he has from his childhood come from him and his brothers. But, at the same time, he thinks his father must have seen the bruises on his youngest sons body, he must have known what was going on in his own home.
Yet, he never did. At least, that's what Peeta likes to think.
It wasn't until he was fourteen years old that the big event came, the moment that someone finally paid attention and it was only because of where he ended up.
His birthday had just passed, and he had never been allowed to have cakes or any kind of pastries despite the fact he was a literally a child in a cake shop, constantly wanting but never receiving. His mother wouldn't tolerate her youngest son 'getting any fatter than he was' and he daren't go against her.
But a few days after his birthday, he'd seen some young girl curled up on the bench outside, sobbing her heart out, and he had gone to see if she was okay. She had had on a black dress, with a braid going down the left side, and she had told him she had run from her fathers funeral – the pain being too much to bare. She had told him that her mother had shut down on her, and how she hadn't eaten in days.
Something inside of him had snapped, and he'd gone back into the bakery, leaving her outside and in his haze, didn't realise how awful it was to do that. But, he'd snuck loaf of bread into his pocket before bringing it out and giving it to her. The girl had been so thankful, she'd pressed a tentative kiss to his cheek, and though he never learned her name or anything else about her, he'd always remember that kiss.
How could he ever forget his first love?
He had gone home with a big grin on his face, only for his mother to have grab him by the arm roughly and throw him into the nearest wall, berating him and belittling him for 'giving away precious food at the nearest bit of skirt because no one else would want him'. She'd grabbed the nearest thing to her and slashed a large cut along his chest, only for his older brother, Rye, to walk in with his father, and the pair managed to get her away.
Because of the pain, he had blacked out, waking up in hospital hours later, and being left with a permanent scar he still had to this day. Red, raised and still angry to this day, right above his heart.
By the time he had been allowed to go back home, his mother was gone.
Though, it didn't last, not that he expected it too, and despite the fact his father had made her go to many, many therapy sessions, anger management classes, counseling upon counseling sessions and god knows what else, she was still as horrible to him as before. After though, she never hit him, not like before, though her words were just as cruel, and every so often she would give him a light smack- never hard enough to leave a mark but enough for him to know she never changed, she just got better at hiding it.
The second he turned eighteen and finished with school, he had grabbed his things and moved with Rye- who was only twenty at the time- to Four. Their father paid for them to have a small apartment there, and it was so tiny they used to take turns on the couch or the floor, and they never had the ability to cook as there was no space, but it didn't matter because anything was better than being with their mother to him.
He had met Finnick and then it was decided, he would never leave. The pair did everything together, getting through university together and both of them passed all their exams together. They helped one another, studied together, and they had both managed to pass a year earlier than they expected, with them being twenty-five when they finally began to work at the hospital in Four.
Peeta had chosen Pediatrics, whilst Finnick mainly stuck to Emergency Medicine, but his mother had been so berating, so degrading and awful despite the fact he was a qualified doctor, plainly because of his choice, that he'd worked with Finnick within two months of being in Pediatrics.
It was the least he could do to avoid having a nightly phone call with his mother chewing him out, telling him what a disappointment he is.
Then, six months into his work in the Emergency Room, he met Katniss Everdeen. And now, having known her for nearly three months and been a doctor for ten months, he had never been so afraid of something.
He never thought he'd be afraid of someone having a panic attack, as it's not even on the list of the top two hundred worst things he's ever seen, but it's different when it's someone you care about. Someone he might even love one day, though he isn't sure if he'd ever be ready to tell her that.
Katniss Everdeen deserves so much better than a failure of a son, who couldn't find anyone else to love him, who isn't sure what love really feels like if he's honest, and a failure of a man who couldn't even help her during the scariest thing that's happened to her since being in Four. She said he helped, but he doesn't think he did. He could have done so much more; he could have protected her better.
It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that she's safe.
As if on cue, or like she knew he was thinking about her, Katniss lets out a soft mumble of his name, waking up and opening her eyes slowly to greet him. "Peeta?" She whispers, her fuzzy brain trying to make sense as to why he's sat on the floor beside her bed.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he offers her a small smile, and his eyes catch the clock to see the time, knowing he had to get to work soon. "Morning." He greets, his smile widening slightly when she reaches out to grab his hand sleepily, and he presses a kiss to her knuckles.
She mumbles something tiredly, and he catches a faint blush on her cheeks at the kiss, and the look on his face must reflect his confusion as she opens her eyes fully before repeating her words. "I like waking up to you."
"I do too." He admits, though his back is killing him and he's exhausted, the sight of her in the morning smiling made it all worthwhile. "Do you need anything before I have to go to work?"
Katniss shakes her head, but she leans over the side of her bed, moving slowly as if she's terrified of him rejecting her. Peeta felt heat rise from his stomach to his chest as Katniss got closer and his heart decided to clench in that moment, as it had been weeks since they last kissed and he was always so worried about frightening her off.
His whole body tingled, the feel of her frame leaning into his as she presses her lips to his, her free hand bracing on his shoulder to keep her upright, and it's over far too soon for his liking. "Have a good day at work." She whispers quietly, her breath ghosting on his bottom lip, her nose nudging against his.
Cupping her cheek with his free hand, he smiles and pulls her lips to his again, claiming her mouth again, this time slightly hungrier, and the soft moan she lets out makes him more confident, his hand slipping to her waist as a bid to pull her closer. To his delight, she only deepens their kiss, her hands tugging him up by his shirt until he's climbing next to her on the bed to join her, her hands slipping between the buttons of his shirt.
Her lips are warm yet slightly dry from where she hadn't had a drink in hours, but to him it's perfect, and he allows her to move at whatever pace she wishes, which works in his favour, as before long, she's pulling away, and he hates it yet inside is glad. He knows if they carried on, it would be too fast and he would never leave her.
From how hard she's breathing, her chest heaves slightly, and her hand slips out from under his bare chest to rest over her heart. "Have a good day at work." She repeats, a smile playing on her lips.
"I will now."
He never should have told anyone. It may be the worst decision he's ever made in his entire life. But he couldn't help it, their kiss that morning was one of the biggest developments in their budding relationship, if he can even call it that, and he'd been so happy it was bursting out of his pores.
So he made the mistake of telling Finnick at work. "No!" He exclaims, his eyes wide as he gestures for their colleague to join them. "Thresh, come here, something huge happened in our Everlark story!"
"Oh, Everlark news?" Thresh grins wide, carrying over three coffees in a holder from the coffee shop down the street, having popped out to get them all one whilst they got their break together. "I've been so excited to hear about this for weeks, my girlfriend has been keeping it on her calendar of all Everlark based events."
Ah, yes, Everlark. In the recent weeks, Peeta had forgotten about that particular nickname for them, or as Finnick called it 'a ship name'. All good couples had one. Taking her last name and his last name together. Apparently, with their first names, the only thing the others could come up with was Peenis or Kateeta and even finding one for their last names was a struggle – with Thresh suggesting Melladeen at least fifty times before his girlfriend came up with Everlark.
Everyone had to have a 'ship name' according to his two colleagues. Thresh and his girlfriend, Rue, had the name Thrue meanwhile Finnick and Annie had Odesta.
Apparently, Peeta's suggestion of Thrush and Fannie weren't appreciated when it came to naming his friends relationships. He was banned from naming them until Haymitch and Effie got together and Peeta had cleverly suggested Hayffie, and his power to name was since reinstated.
In one conversation, his colleagues and friends had admitted that since Finnick and Annie lived with Katniss, and Finnick worked with Peeta, they had started a group chat with Thresh and Rue, since Thresh and Peeta tend to be on the same shifts and Rue works with Katniss, dedicated to documenting Everlark moments, looks, kisses, words, anything. Their dedication is strong, seeing as the text alert is one of Finnick screaming at the top of his lungs 'EVERLARK!' that they all seem to have.
Katniss was aware of it, according to Rue, but ignored it as she found it childish. If Katniss could ignore it, so could he, and they both know it was only created because their friends care about them and want them to be happy. They can't get mad about that. Though Katniss did try.
No one, upon looking at Thresh, would ever assume he would be interested in something like a group chat dedicated to a couple that hasn't even happened yet, but that would be where they were wrong. Especially since Thresh began that group chat.
Admittedly, when Peeta first met him, he was terrified due to the older man's height. His friend, though a complete teddy bear would wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone another human being, who worked in Pediatrics for a couple of years before moving to Emergency Medicine just like Peeta. Though Peeta isn't particularly tall, a fact he hates, Thresh is the tallest man he's ever met, standing proudly at well over six feet. He has dark skin and very cropped dark hair, and he has the strangest golden brown eyes Peeta has ever seen. The fear was not helped by the fact his friend and colleague also has muscles like an ox.
Now, however, Peeta is more terrified of Effie than Thresh.
"Katniss kissed him this morning." Finnick tells Thresh after he's put their coffees on the table they're all sat around in the break room. Thresh; quite literally, does a mini jump for joy in the air before sitting down. "Peeta kissed back."
"You guys kissed?" His friend grins so wide, Peeta is afraid it hurts, though he seems too delighted to notice. "Well what does this mean? Are you two together now? Will you ask her out? What does all this mean? Can I be your best man at your wedding? I don't know much about weddings but I can tell you, I'm excited!"
"Thresh," Finnick scolds, laying a hand on the taller mans shoulder to calm him down, and for a split second, Peeta thinks Finnick will reprimand him for going too fast. "I am best man, but you can be witness?"
"Deal." They shake on it, making Peeta glare. "Sorry. Tell us the story."
Sighing, Peeta takes one of the to-go mugs of coffee, sipping at it and wincing when the hot liquid scalds his tongue. "I woke up, I sat up, and then she woke up. I kissed her hand and she kissed me. Then, I kissed back."
"Peeta, can we make this sound less like bullet points about a family holiday to Marbella and make it sound more like you kissing the woman you're falling in love with?" Thresh complains, his nose scrunched in disappointment. "Give us details, how did it feel, how did you feel? Did you talk about last night?"
"Was she okay with it? Did she panic?" Finnick continues on with the line of questioning, both of them sounding far, far too interested. "What did she say? What did you say? Did you hold her? Did you go slowly? Don't you dare move too fast and scare her off!" Finnick warns, though he knows his friend never would.
Groaning, he rests his head on the back of the chair, wondering how much he should tell them. They're his friends, and he knows they would never push him to answer, but Katniss should come first and he doesn't want to embarrass her by telling them too much. "It was...amazing. Sweaty palms, thudding heart, butterflies in the stomach amazing. Fan-freaking-tastic. Happy?"
"Somewhat." Finnick deadpans, before waving his hand, wanting Peeta to continue.
"I just...I like her, okay?" Peeta tells them, hating how stereotypical he sounds. He's not normally this way; he's usually so open and happy to tell people about his feelings. But now, thinking about Katniss, he just worries that him telling them is a dishonor to her, like he's sharing more than he should. "I haven't felt this way about anyone since I was fourteen years old. I only knew that girl for minutes but I fell hard and fast. Now, with Katniss, it's like it's happening all over again. But everything is still so new, so raw, and she's going through something."
Finnick holds a hand up to stop him, knowing the inner turmoil his friend must be facing. "Peeta, have you ever considered the fact that every time she needs something, even if it's just someone to speak to, she calls you? She initiated the kiss this morning, she spends evenings in your home, on your couch, drinking wine and cuddling you. Those don't sound like the actions of a woman who doesn't want the same as you."
"Never assume." Thresh reminds, making Finnick nods as he considers it. "But, admittedly, after the starry night admission, it does sound like she wants to be with you as much as you want to be with her. Well, maybe not as much, because you have heart eyes."
Peeta grumbles, slamming his head against the table, and he ignores the pain he feels in favour berating himself in his head. "I never should have kissed her again this morning. I pushed too fast, I mean, she had a panic attack last night and I just go in and kiss her."
"She liked it though, right?" Thresh double checks, sounding concerned.
Lifting his head, Peeta nods slowly, though he truly hopes that's true. Maybe she just smiled to be kind. No, that's not Katniss's style.
"She enjoyed it." Finnick confirms, his phone in his hand and scrolling through texts. "Apparently she pulled Annie aside this morning to tell her all about it, she made you sound like some dreamy heartthrob, I must admit."
"Why?" Peeta asks, before he realises he doesn't want to know. Katniss and Annie had a private conversation, if Katniss wanted him to know what was said, she would tell him. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."
Putting his phone down on the table, Finnick sighs, trying to think of what to tell his friend to make him feel better. "I think you should ask her on a date." He states, sounding surer about that than anything else he's ever said. "Make sure you tell her saying no is an option, you won't hold it against her. Don't make it sound too desperate, you do have that tendency, and don't ramble. Just ask, get an answer, and act accordingly."
"What if she says no?"
"Then, my friend, you need to take your own oh so infamous advice." The blonde in front of him shrugs, his coffee poised half way between the table and his lips. "Buck up. Accept it. Move on."
"That's your advice?" Thresh rolls his eyes, before his eyes find Peeta once more and he decides to make matters into his own hands. "You go to her, you talk to her about the kiss, make sure you get a clear idea of where she's at, you ask her on a date, and if she says no, you act like the nice guy you are and accept it. If the situation allows, you can ask why, it's a fair question, but accept whatever answer she gives, even if it's a crappy one like 'I'm tired' I don't know, I haven't been rejected since I met Rue, but if she says yes, you be the happiest son of a bitch in the world."
"Literally." Finnick interjects, making Thresh nudge him. "Not the time, sorry."
"Anyway," Thresh rolls his eyes again, and if he isn't careful, he's fairly certain they'll roll to the back of his head. "If she says yes, you take her somewhere nice but not too flashy. She's been hurt in the past, if her actions are anything to go by, and the last thing she'll appreciate is someone giving her empty, romantic, financial gestures."
"When did you become a relationship guru?" Peeta asks, a small frown on his face over the fact Thresh is probably right, he can't move too fast or he'll scare her off, and he needs to accept whatever answer Katniss gives him. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard when he feels the way he does. "I'm trying so hard-"
"We know." Finnick interjects, his tone soft, and his eyes are worried with a hint of understanding within them. "Peeta, you're the kindest man I have ever met in my life, we both know you would never pressure her or make her feel bad on purpose. It's just, you of all people know how intense you can be when you want something badly."
"I don't want many things badly."
"My hand said differently when you poked me with a fork last week-" Thresh begins, but the glare Peeta sends him makes his shut up. The pair had reached for the same Tootsie Roll. It got ugly. "Sorry."
Peeta sighs, running a hand down his face tiredly. He barely slept the night before, and though the kiss that morning had set him up for life, he knows he needs more than coffee and stolen kisses in the morning to keep him going for the day.
"Thanks for this...whatever this was." He stands, bringing his coffee with him. He's not sure what the purpose of their conversation was but what he does know if that it's not making him feel any better about admitting what happened that morning to them. Now he just feels like it's his fault if he's pushed her too far and he already had the guilt of the night before weighing on his mind.
He makes his exit, pressing the button to call the elevator down just as Finnick comes up next to him. "Peeta," He starts, a small frown on his face barely hiding the regret he feels over making his friend feel any kind of hurt. "You're a really good guy, okay? Please don't forget that."
Instead of replying, Peeta just nods, knowing that nothing he can say will make Finnick take the words back, even though Peeta certainly doesn't think he is. He still thinks his mother was right this whole time, about him being a disappointment, being pathetic, not a real man because of his emotions, the fact he's too soft. He knows its true, though he's trying his hardest and wishing it wasn't. And it just hits him suddenly that he's not even half the man Katniss Everdeen deserves.
But he wants to be. And that has to count for something. Right?
There is chapter 8 finished, and look at me barely using my songs but loving them anyway. I used it enough to get my point across, and I apologise for how wordy this chapter is, and the lack of too much Everlark interaction but I wanted to show some of Peeta's side for once. Peeta doesn't get enough love in stories!