My 90s theme of music is still going strong here, except I don't know if this one counts. This one is not in a film as far as I can remember but I may be wrong. Anyway, this one is She's In Love With The Boy – Trisha Yearwood. Enjoy!
Oh wait, I have to add that I, unfortunately, 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 they belong to.
Light In The Dark
'But Katie's young and man she just don't care, she'd follow Tommy anywhere, she's in love with the boy...'
Scraping the burnt eggs out of the pan, Katniss frowns, her nose wrinkling, as she knows she's ruined yet another breakfast, ignoring the radio beside her. Despite this, she knows nothing is going to spoil her happy mood. Not recently, at least. She hasn't been able to tear the smile off of her face for weeks now, never having felt happier then she does now.
It's been six weeks since she began dating Peeta, six amazing, love filled- on her part at least- and exciting weeks that have left her stunned by him every time.
Almost like a switch has been flipped on her life, once so dull and bleak, so horrifying to even consider her future, she's now full of life and smiles and just pure, unadulterated happiness.
She's in love.
Truthfully, she isn't sure if she's ever really been in love before. Not like this, at least. With Gale, it had been kinship and his understanding that had made her like him, but after a year of liking him, it was fear that propelled their relationship, and she doesn't think she can ever say she truly loved him.
With Peeta it's completely different. She knows there will be no switch being flipped on her again, he's not the type, he would never do something like that, and the man can't lie to her to save his life, so she knows he could never do that. He has no fire, no rage, no annoyances, and everything he does it done gently and well thought out.
Peeta Mellark can't even buy a chocolate bar in candy store a unless he knows it's fairtrade and will benefit others. He can't walk into a party without buying a drink for at least the first five people he speaks to, and he always pays for dinner or movies despite her arguing. She appreciates it, she does, but she wants to pay sometimes.
No, Peeta isn't the type to change. He won't even change phone companies because he's afraid of upsetting someone down the phone. He once tried to quit the gym his mother signed him up for 'in good faith' but the person on the phone had managed to convince him to extend his membership. Ever since, Peeta has gone to the gym.
He claims he enjoys it, but Katniss knows him better. She knows he would much rather go for a run with her when she does, in the rare occasions that happens, or bake in the morning to his hearts content. Peeta hates the fact he's strong from the fact he lifted bags of flour right over his head when he worked in his families bakery, claiming he thinks it makes him look too threatening.
Admittedly, she likes his arms the way they are, and the rest of him, though she's too much of a prude to ever admit it to him or even look for too long if he has his shirt off in front of her. His arms are bulky and large, muscled in the perfect way, and she loves how they feel when he pulls her in for a cuddle on cold nights out in his garden, how warm and safe he feels as a whole. He doesn't have abs as some women claim is 'oh so attractive' but he's slim with strong muscles there too, and if she's honest she much prefers that he doesn't have the 'desired' abs.
To her, he's perfect, and she knows he feels the same about her even though she'll never understand why.
Though they haven't taken the step to consummate their budding relationship, they have spent most of their time together, almost every day in fact. Whether it's a quick coffee at work where they hold hands or he wraps his arm around her, or them kissing on his couch like randy teenagers, never going further than allowing their hands to wander but never go under the clothes yet. He knows she isn't ready, she isn't sure if she ever will be and she worries that might be the case, though he doesn't know everything that happened to her before she met him.
That's the other sore spot in their relationship that she just can't shake. Her past. Peeta knows some things about it, he knows part of what Gale did, he knows the name Gale and knows that Katniss is married and pending a divorce, but he doesn't know much else. He has tried to talk to her about her getting back into contact with her family, though she always refuses, claiming she still isn't ready.
She has been in town for nearly five months now, and felt safe for the six weeks they have been together- but only when with him- but she still doesn't think it's time to speak to her sister and mother. She's not ready; she doesn't think she'll ever be ready, even though she feels the loss of them so keenly it's killing her.
Sighing to herself, Katniss turns to face the counter in front of her where Annie has left her laptop open when she went to the bathroom. Some social media blog is open with Annie's name on it, one Katniss knows her little sister uses, and she takes a step toward the laptop slowly.
Checking that no one can see her, with Finnick sat watching TV in the room near her and Annie in the bathroom, Katniss sits down on the stool her friend vacated with her hands typing before she can even stop them.
Primrose Everdeen.
A few searches come up, and it takes a couple of seconds of searching before she sees her little sisters profile come up, making her take a sharp inhale of breath. "Prim." She whispers, clicking on the profile.
Her sister's page, once full of happy memories and praise, photos of herself making achievements or whatever else comes to mind, is now full of photos of her and Katniss taken over the years. Prim's profile photo is one of the last photos they ever took, on the night Katniss got injured and Gale ran before anyone could find out. It's her, Prim and their mother sat around the table; their arms wrapped around one another with big smiles, and Katniss wishes her smile back then hadn't been faked.
In the photo, she's wearing some green dress that the details of don't matter, but her chest is on display, with no marks in sight, both of her arms are the same. She looks normal. She looks like any other twenty-four year old woman, happy with her family, beautiful even.
Blinking her tears back, Katniss scrolls down, seeing some of the hundreds of posts that Prim has posted, every single one of them photos of the pair growing up, of their mother and Katniss, of Katniss on her own when she was younger, them with their father. Any photo Prim has, she seems to have put out into the world, all with captions praying for Katniss to come home.
They aren't religious people, not by a long shot, but her sister seems to have been praying to a deity neither of them believe in just so she can get her sister back. It makes her heart ache. Physically ache from the pain and the loss of her family, the family she loves so dearly but is too ashamed to face.
Katniss is no longer that young girl, strong and beautiful, unscarred and feeling worthy of something. She's broken and lost, hurt and afraid, only just now beginning to build herself back together after it being nearly a year since she got scalded by the burning kettle water, finally taken out of that house.
She isn't free.
Every night of her life, she's dreamt of being back in that house. Every night she wakes up screaming, the only nights she doesn't are the night she has spent in Peeta's arms when they fall asleep on his couch together, with a soft blanket covering them and the fire burning itself out.
Hearing footsteps beginning to come in her direction in the kitchen, she quickly exits out of the page and wipes her eyes before standing and continuing the scrape at the pan she was before.
"Urg, another failed attempt?" Annie wrinkles her nose, coming up behind Katniss and peering at the pan. "We have no more eggs. Why don't you just get Peeta to cook?"
"Because," Katniss scrapes the last of the egg away from the pan, pretending she had been doing it the whole time and it was hard word, shaking out her wrist like it aches. It does, a bit, but it's nothing compared to her heart. "Peeta always cooks. I invited him to breakfast on our day off and I said I would cook. So I am cooking."
Raising a brow, Annie nods, before she heads to the fridge and pulls out two bottles of fresh water, passing one to Katniss before she speaks again. "Well, you're certainly burning. I don't think we can pass anything off as cooking yet."
Sending a scowl her friend's way, Katniss takes a big gulp of water. "Okay," She mumbles after she's swallowed. "Maybe I can use that just add water pancake mix. Surely I can cook something so easy."
"Worth a try."
It turns out she can't cook something 'so easy'. She really can't. Somehow, the mess she makes is worse, the pancakes are both undercooked and burnt, and when she tried to flip one the way she's seen people do in movies, the handle had come off of the pan and made it go flying into a cupboard. It splattered pancake mix everywhere, on the floor and walls and some of it is even in her hair.
"Wow, you really can't cook something so easy, can you?" Finnick comments as he enters his kitchen to find a highly amused Annie and unimpressed, frustrated, Katniss Everdeen. "Want me to make something you can pass off as your own?"
Cleaning up the last of the pancake mix, Katniss stands, throwing it in the garage can along with the now broken pan. "You're a good man, Finnick Odair."
"Don't forget it." He smirks, grabbing her by the shoulders gently and pushing her lightly towards the stairs, and she doesn't flinch, which she counts as personal growth on her part. "Go shower, you have pancake mix in your hair."
Sighing, she picks some of the half cooked mixture from her long tresses. "Why are you helping? Isn't it funnier to watch?"
"Peeta is my friend." Finnick shrugs, like it's no big deal, but she can hear something in his voice that tells her it is. "As are you. And I want Everlark to sail better than the Titanic."
Laughing, she nods, before giving him two, big, thumbs up and rushing up the stairs so she can do as he says, her mind whirling as she thinks of the bond she's managed to build with Finnick and Annie over the last few weeks- especially Finnick, who is like the big brother she never had but always wanted.
After her shower, she quickly pulls on a jumper that covers her fully and jeans, not bothering on doing anything special with her hair besides shoving it in it's usual, messy, braid off to the left side of her head. She knows for a fact Peeta is already there, if the voice she had heard earlier and door opening was an indicator.
"Early like clockwork." She comments, seeing the time is still twenty minutes before he should be there, only nine am, but she doesn't mind. If anything, she much prefers it, being able to see him more.
When she goes down, she only hears the radio at first, with the song from earlier playing again. Katniss tamps down her annoyance that she usually has when she hears Panem Radio replaying the same song over and over again, but only because she spots Peeta sat on a stool drinking a cup of coffee with his back turned to her.
'She's in love with the boy, and even if they have to run away, she's gonna marry that boy someday...'
Coming up behind him, she wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her nose into the crook on his neck. "Morning." She greets with a grin, only loosening her grip so he can stand and pull her in for a gentle kiss.
His lips are soft and warm, and she can taste a mix of the coffee he was drinking along with some of his mint toothpaste, which usually she would hate but on him it tastes like lazy Sunday mornings with the man she's head over heels with. When he deepens their kiss, she can't help her soft moan of pleasure, letting him turn them so her back is to the counter he was sat by.
"Woah! I said I want this ship to sail not hump on my kitchen counter." Finnick tugs them apart, ignoring the matching glares he receives for it. "I will not be looked at like that," Katniss crosses her arms, poking her tongue to her top lip, clearly unimpressed. "I am not having an Everlark baby conceived where I eat my food."
Shrugging, she drops her irritated act so she can move to sit down next to Peeta when he takes back his chair, her hand dropping to rest on his right knee closest to her. For some reason, he always makes sure to sit with his right side to her, his left leg always pushed out like he's uncomfortable or stiff there. She never comments on it, never asking, and she just accepts that she has never sat on the left side. "Sorry, Finnick." She chimes, not feeling sorry at all.
With a chuckle, Peeta takes the hand on his knee in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles like the gentleman he is, and he keeps her hand in his over the counter even when Finnick goes into a story about people and why they should never have sex on surfaces that make food.
"Like you and Annie have never gotten frisky on a kitchen counter." Peeta comments, his eyes trained on Finnick like he knows something, making the other man go silent. "In fact, the one we're leaning on." He quickly moves away from it slightly, his nose wrinkling.
"What?" Her eyes widen, her hand dragging his to rest on her lap, feeling his thumb brush over her knuckles gently. "I make food on this counter."
"Well, you try." Finnick teases, holding up a full plate of pancakes in his hand, placing them in front of the pair. "Katniss tried to make pancakes, scrambled eggs, a full English breakfast and toast. All of which somehow failed. If you hadn't of been early, we were going to pretend my pancakes were hers."
Peeta glances over at her, a smile on his face, which shocks her because she was expecting him to be mad at her. Why? She isn't sure. But she's so used to someone being mad at her that it's become second nature to assume someone is. "Thank you for trying." He leans over to brush a feather light kiss to her forehead. "I appreciate it."
Katniss pulls their hands apart and grabs a plate when Finnick offers it, her nose scrunching in disappointment when he leaves the room to give them some privacy. "I hardly did a good job." She shrugs. "I burnt everything. Guess Gale was right about that-"
"Hey," Peeta starts, a wrinkle in his brow, his hand reaching and takings hers once more, and tugs their entwined fingers to his lap unconsciously. "He was right about nothing." He assures her, something in his eyes she can't place and she isn't sure she wants to.
"He was right that I couldn't cook. I still can't." She points out, her tone deflated, and she feels awful that she can't even master one of the simplest of tasks that someone should know how to do, especially the girlfriend of a baker turned small town doctor. Isn't she supposed to know how to cook, clean, sew, bake and look effortlessly gorgeous at the same time? Every other woman knows how.
"Anyone can cook." He shrugs.
"You did not just quote Ratatouille at me." She smirks, shaking her head at him when he nods.
They watched that film a week ago when he realised she hadn't seen it and insisted she needed to, especially since one of his brothers was coming to town soon with his children and the eldest boy loves the movie and will expect her to as well. Ever since, Peeta keeps quoting it at her. Maybe he's the one obsessed, not his nephew.
"You can bet I did." He chuckles, pressing a kiss to her hand, and she leans in closer so he can press a short, but well meaning and loving, kiss to her lips. His nose nudges against hers as he continues. "You must be imaginative, strong-hearted. You must try things that may not work, and you must not let anyone define your limits because of where you come from."
Her eyes soften, knowing he's still quoting but the words are beautiful and relevant enough to make her swoon.
"Your only limit is your soul." He smiles, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, like he can't get over doing it and he doesn't want to. "What I say is true – anyone can cook…but only the fearless can be great."
Staring at him for a long moment, she can't help her heart flutter in the way it always does with him, filled with love she can't yet express, dying to tell him but too afraid he won't feel the same, desperate to keep him as hers. "I think I am way far past being defined because of where I come from." She comments instead of the millions of things in her head. "If that were true, I wouldn't be here now."
He wiggles his brows. "With a dashing and handsome Doctor who can mend a broken femur as well as bake you pretty cakes and pictures?" Peeta questions, his tone teasing, and she loves how they can slip from being completely serious one minute to joking the next. "I can also make a mean pavlova."
Patting his cheek gently, Katniss presses another kiss to his lips before pulling away so she can load her plate up with the pancakes Finnick made. She won't waste food or let it go cold. Where she grew up, if you didn't eat fast, you didn't eat. "Don't sell your cheese buns short, I love those."
"I know you love my buns." He grins, following her lead so he can grab some pancakes. "If you want I can make you some and put them in the oven so they're ready for later?"
"You want to put your buns in my oven?" Katniss raises an eyebrow at him, making him smirk, as he fully well knew what he was saying. He truly is the only person in her life who could ever get away with such jokes, and she's happy to say she would certainly let him do it. Put the cheese buns in her literal oven, not the other thing.
"Maybe just one. I wouldn't want to make you cook too much." He smirks, using a knife and fork to dig into his portion of pancakes, completely different to how Katniss eats them with her hands. She doesn't use any syrup of lemon juice or sugar, so it's easier to rip them apart and eat them like that, and she won't change how she eats for him. She's done changing things for someone else. "Then a couple of years later we could try another one."
Grinning, Katniss punches his shoulder gently. "Shut up." She shakes her head, not wanting to think about buns in her oven besides the ones in the literal oven near them that she hasn't touched in ages. "You can put the cheese buns in the literal stove."
"Shame. I was hoping you'd be open to both." He teases, taking a gulp of his coffee so he can ignore the playful scowl she's sending him. They both know it's all in jest, and he's glad she took it so well even though he knows she would. They have yet to have their first fight, and he certainly doesn't want it to be over him making a baking pun. That wouldn't be as funny as it sounds.
"Make me those cheese buns and we'll talk."
It turns out; their first fight isn't that far away, as two weeks after their morning together, they actually have one. A fight small but big enough to make them both irritated, and big enough to have her storm out of his home to the garden just so she can avoid him, her eyes filled with tears she hasn't shed yet.
He wants her to meet his family.
It's stupid, how quickly his question had led to a fully fledged argument, with her throwing her hands around and panicking and him trying to calm her down, but the moment he had taken a step toward her to calm her, she had a less than favourable reaction.
"Katniss," Peeta had started, their eyes trained on the TV in front of them as it played a movie from the nineties that had come on, where Hugh Grant plays a man who falls in love with a woman played by Andie MacDowell over the course of four weddings and a funeral. "I have something to ask."
She glanced up at him from where her head was resting on his chest, their legs entwined under the blanket with his arms wrapped around her. "You better not ask to go to the bathroom again, you know you don't have to ask that, right? This is your house." She joked, but saw the look in his eyes as being too nervous to joke back so she had shut up and quickly sat up straight.
He followed her, swinging his legs over the side of the couch, and she didn't miss the way one leg goes out straight like it hurts him, but she didn't comment. "My family is coming to town next week. Well, my family only being my brother and his wife and children. My mother said she wasn't coming but is likely to change her mind. Which means most likely all of my family. So both brothers will be here, my parents-"
"Peeta." She scowled, her eyes narrowing. "You know I usually enjoy watching you squirm, but you're worrying me now. Please just spit it out."
"Uhm," He coughed once, staring at the floor like he wanted a giant hole to open up and swallow him whole. "They'll be staying here. Well, one of my brothers and his family and my parents. My other brother lives here."
She knew that. He has two older brothers, though if anyone were to look at them, they would consider all three to be twins. There is Bannock, who is thirty-two and moved to the town of One, the CEO of a large pharmaceutical company that has taken over what seems like everywhere. The town he lives in is huge, their main export being luxury items, but he decided he wanted to live there because of the grandeur and easy access to the Capitol and other towns. He met a woman there and had a big family that only keeps growing. He is their mother's favourite, the only one she is proud of, according to Peeta.
Then, there is Rye who Peeta moved to Four with and whom Peeta is much closer to. Rye has some kind of relationship with Delly Cartwright that the woman had never so much as mentioned to Katniss, but then again, she was far too interested in Katniss and Peeta to talk about her own life. He's nearly twenty-nine now, only being two years older than Peeta, and is a Detective- making him second in his mother's favourites list. To Peeta, even the family dog was better than him. She hated it.
Rye is more easy-going apparently, and they would get along well. Peeta once told her he would have named his son Rye if it weren't for the fact Rye had such a big ego and would never let him let it down. Bannock, however, is more serious and only cares about what he could buy or sell. According to Peeta, if dandruff had a going rate, Bannock would scalp you for it.
"It's a big house, that's understandable." Katniss shrugged, unsure of what his question would be. Did he want her to avoid them whilst they're here? Had he not mentioned her? She isn't sure.
"W-I-" Peeta struggled, trying to figure out the correct way to phrase whatever his question is, before he seemed to just spit it out however it came. "Would you like to meet them?"
Katniss stared at him for a long moment. She blinked. Twice. "I-What?" Her eyes widened when he repeated his question, but she still didn't reply. He wanted her to meet his family, the people he grew up and were raised by, the most important people in his life, most likely. "W-Why would you want me to meet them?" She asked instead of any of the hundreds of questions in her brain.
"Well," He smiled nervously for a moment, his eyes glancing up at her, but only for a split second as the moment he saw the look on her face he looked away again. "We're together, we're dating, and I'm-We're in a relationship. Right?" He double-checked, and at her nod he breathed a sigh of relief. "Why wouldn't I want you to meet my family?"
"It's a big step." She stated, shrugging her shoulders. "We've only been dating eight weeks."
"Two months is long enough to know that I would like you to meet them." He bit down on his bottom lip, knowing he had to tread carefully, with them entering a dangerous territory. "It's fine if not." He stood, grabbing their empty wine glasses and bringing them to the kitchen so he could refill them, like it's important right then and there to do it, but she knows it was just so he could avoid her eyes.
Following him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not saying I don't want to." She defended, her tone low, almost irritated. "I just haven't met parents in a long time. Doing so makes it seem very serious-"
"I always thought we were serious." He finally looked up at her, the look in his eyes hurt and she hated herself for putting that look there. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"No, Peeta, I'm not saying we weren't serious- aren't serious." She quickly corrected herself, stumbling over her words, but the fact she even had to correct herself made him frown. "You should ask. We're in a relationship."
Peeta looked away, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of white wine so he could ignore her gaze and how he felt. "Katniss, really, forget I even mentioned it. It's too soon for you-"
"No!" She exclaimed, her arms dropping and her foot nearly stomping on the wooden floors from how much his answer upset her. "Don't you dare try make it seem like it's all me!"
"I'm not saying that." He whipped around, placing the bottle of wine down calmly on the island counter near him even though he felt anything but serene and at ease. "I was just saying that if you aren't ready, it's okay. You know I would never make something seem like it's your fault-"
"But it is my fault!" She scowled, her eyes angry and unfocused. "In your eyes. I can see how much it hurt you, and now I'm the asshole of this story. I didn't mean to make it sound like we aren't serious but for gods sakes it's only been eight weeks!" She stopped immediately, regretting the words the moment they leave her mouth.
"Exactly!" He blurted out, shrugging his shoulders, and the action only irritated her further. "It's why I said not to worry. You don't have to meet them, I'll tell them you're busy and can't-"
"No, because then I'm the bitch of a girlfriend who can't even be bothered to get a day off for her boyfriends family who have travelled all this way to see their son and brother." She waved her arms around like she's in some kind of crappy soap opera. "I'm sorry I said that, okay, I didn't mean that eight weeks isn't long or-"
"You made your stance perfectly clear."
"No!" Katniss glared, trying to be calm but she just felt this burning rage building up inside of her, and even she's not sure as to why. Maybe it's from all the times she couldn't fight back, too broken or afraid or upset, too willing to put her emotions aside to make someone else's life easier. And now, in a silly disagreement, she's making things worse by projecting them onto him. "I didn't mean it like that. Why do you always have to take things to heart? It only hurts you and makes you emotional. I just wish you didn't-"
The look on his face was enough to make her pause and back away, realising what she had said. His soft nature, forgiving yet so very fragile in its own way, is one of the things Peeta had been berated for his whole life for by his mother. She doesn't know a lot about his past, even though he is far more willing to admit things about it than she is, but she knows enough to know he was tormented by her for being 'weak, pathetic and overly emotional'.
Peeta can't help it; he takes things to heart and gives everything his all. It's one of the many things she adores about him, the way he will always understand and always think of how she's feeling, his constant gentle concern and how sweet he is with her. But she knows it something he worries about daily, something he's insecure about and hates about himself.
He would never bring up something like that, something she despises about herself and was hurt for, both mentally and physically, he would never even think of wanting her to be a slight bit different. Yet, she just did that to him. She just threw it in his face point blank like ripping off a band aid, making it seem like something terrible when in reality it's part of him right to the core and something she loves so, so much.
Disgusted with herself, she had moved back, further away from him, not calming at all, if anything only more irritated but more at herself. "I didn't mean that."
Peeta's jaw had clenched, a sign he was either angry or about to burst into tears, and the only way she could tell the difference was the fact his eyes were shining like glass, full of unshed tears. "Yes you did." He muttered.
"No I didn't." She shook her head quickly, her eyes wide. "Peeta, I swear, I didn't-"
A frown on his face, he looked over at her once more. "You did." He nearly growled out, and she could tell he was making himself sound angry so that he wouldn't cry, and she hated that tone on him more than she can ever express. "You said something honest, stand by it. It's worse when you take it back."
Katniss shook her head, her nose scrunching as she tried to think of something, anything, to say to make it better. "Peeta, I swear, it just came out. You know I would never even dream of making a comment like that. You know that's not how I really feel, it just came out, and I was angry so-"
"Angry words are bitter truths people won't admit to."
His words rang true, and she hated every single one that comes out of his mouth because she knows it's true. But not in that moment, her angry words are just that. Words she said because she just wanted him to stop taking her other words to heart. But it failed, and if anything he's only more upset. And now she is too.
"Peeta, you know that isn't how I feel-"
"No I don't!" He exclaimed finally, turning to face her fully and his whole demeanor was so far away from the friendly, kind, warm man she's fallen so fast and hard in love with. "I don't know how you feel because I don't want to know about the things I have that annoy you, I don't want to know that me being emotional and god forbid, caring about you irritates you."
"That isn't how I feel!" She argued back, her upset turning into anger once more.
"Then why did you wish for me to be different?" He asked loudly, his eyes shining with those tears once again, and she hated herself even more – if that's even possible. "You didn't finish but that's what you were doing to say. So finish it now."
"NO!" She nearly screamed, her arms flying up like she can't believe how dense he could be, fuelled by upset, and if anything, he proved her stupid point. She'd never been so angry to be correct. "Because I didn't mean it! Haven't you ever said something you didn't mean in anger before?"
"Shockingly enough, no." He stated simply, shrugging his shoulders.
It's not a shock; she doubts Peeta gets angry often. Even now, he's not angry, more hurt and upset and acting angry so he can save face. Peeta never gets angry because he knows what it's like to be yelled at for everything you say, every move you make, being yelled at for things he can't even help. He thought he was safe with her, that his feelings were safe, but she knows she had just torn him apart.
"Well," She scoffed, jutting out her hip in a cliché manner that all women supposedly do in the books when they're angry. She doesn't think she'd ever done it in her life before then. "How fucking brilliant to be you. Oh, the wonderful Peeta Mellark who never gets angry and is so damn perfect!"
"Hardly perfect." He looked away, his eyes still hurt, but getting angrier, and she hates how she was the one who has put that look there. All it makes her think of is some old quote from Robert Jordan that 'Men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget' and for a terrifying moment she truly thinks he will never forgive her for throwing one of his insecurities at him. "Anything but perfect-"
"It doesn't even matter." She cut him off, her eyes still as angry as before despite her hatred of herself. "All that matters is that I didn't mean what I said!"
"Then why say it at all?" He exclaims, leaning on the counter and staring at the bottle of wine in front of him like it'll answer all of his questions.
"Because I'm an idiot who just let her mouth run without thinking!" She yelled right back, nearly seething out the words from how angry she is, from how irritated and frustrated she is. "I was just saying that I didn't mean to make it sound like we aren't serious or that eight weeks isn't a long time! You know I have never been happier than I have been since being with you!"
"And all I was saying it that it's fine that you don't want to meet my family!"
"But I DO!" She screamed back, watching his expression immediately shift from pretend anger-real hurt- into confusion, uncertainty in her and her words. "I want to meet your fucking family! I'm no good at this! I'm scared, okay?" She glared, not expecting an answer. "I am terrified of your family hating me or thinking I'm not good enough for you because, spoiler alert, I'm not good enough! Not for you. And I am terrified you're going to finally realise that and leave me!"
Her words seemed to have made the desired impact, but the moment he reaches out for her, his hand raised to pull her into a gentle embrace to try help soothe her, and he takes a step forward, she does the worst thing possible in that situation.
She flinched.
"Don't!" She yelled, backing away and hitting her back off a cupboard door in her haste, her eyes squeezing shut like she's expecting an impact. "Please, don't, I'm sorry-," She sobbed out, before she realised where she was and what was happening.
Peeta was stood in shock, not having moved an inch from his reaching out, and his eyes were broken, hurt and afraid and he looked like he was about to vomit, going completely pale. His skin has gone pallid, drained of any colour and his eyes are darkened.
"I-" He paused, still unsure, and his body drops, before he stared at the fear and growing worry on her face.
She had flinched; she had backed away, screamed out for him to stop, for him to leave her along. She had begged for him not to hit her. She thought, in that moment, he would hurt her. She thought he would hit her.
The thought alone made bile rise in his throat, and he backed away, holding up one finger in the air until he had raced out of the room, running to the bathroom to be sick- nauseas in way he will never be able to explain.
Katniss, however, was still stood in shock, watching him go before her fight or flight instinct kicked in. She chose flight, darting out of the kitchen to his garden in only a thin long sleeved shirt and pajama pants, having intended on sleeping there that night like she so often did. She hadn't intended on going outside at all, and the cold air had hit her like a ton of bricks, making her realise what she had done.
Now, she was sat on the front porch swing, tears staining her face, her eyes dull, terrified of what she had done. Alone. She was freezing cold, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth, but she can barely feel the chill as she worries.
What has she done? She flinched away from him when he was trying to comfort her. He was only reaching out to hug her, embrace her, whatever it was. Peeta would never hurt her. Not in a million years. She knows that. And yet she'd screamed out and braced herself to be hit. She had really thought the kindest, gentlest; man she's ever known would hit her. How?
For the rest of her life, she doesn't think she will ever, ever, forget the look on his face. Pure fear laced with disgust and horror, with shock and confusion within, his whole body collapsed as he felt as panicked as she did. He was horrified with what she thought, horrified at himself for ever making her think that, and she knows he's only blaming himself.
The draping of a blanket over her legs makes her turn like lightning towards who did it, her eyes lighting up when she sees Peeta back away to go back inside like he knew she wasn't paying attention and all he wanted was to make sure she wouldn't freeze. He was scared and petrified for her and yet concerned because of something as mundane as the weather, and she's struck by how stupid she is for even considering the possibility he would harm her.
Turning her head to face him fully, she calls out. "Peeta?" She swallows when he pauses mid-step, headed back into the house. "Don't leave. Please?" She whispers, a tear falling down her face.
Her expression makes him immediately rush to her side, and when she opens her arms, he tugs her onto his lap. His warmth hits her and she huddles into him, pressing her face into his chest as he pulls up the blanket so her shoulders are covered.
No words are spoken for a long, long, time. The only sounds are of his littering kisses to her hairline and her soft breathing as they cuddle up together, both of them calming and trying to take stock of their thoughts and feelings.
She's the first one to speak up; her hand resting over his heart and feeling it thud comfortingly against her palm. "I'm sorry." She whispers, shushing him when he even attempts to say it isn't her fault. "I really overreacted, and I am so, so, so sorry I flinched. I know you would never hurt me, I know you wouldn't, I just had-"
"I know." He cuts her off, not sounding mad, just understanding. He always understands what she's trying to say, even when she isn't sure she has any real clue herself. "You just had a gut reaction. I know."
She nods, burying herself into him tightly, her legs pushing his slightly so she can be more comfortable. When she does, she notices the fact one leg, his left she thinks, is harder to move, and she can hear a slight click but she doesn't say anything. "I swear it wasn't you or...it was just a gut thing. Please don't you ever think you did anything wrong."
Peeta presses a kiss to her temple, his hands running up her back and then moving down again slowly, tracing over each vertebrae in her spine. "I am sorry I pushed you. That isn't your fault, and this argument was not all your fault either. We both just...are stubborn." He trails off.
Knowing she shouldn't be, Katniss is shocked at his admission. She knows that it was her fault, not seeing anything he did wrong in that situation, and she's so used to being blamed for every fight or bad word said in her life. Peeta willing to take responsibility for an argument he was the victim in was hardly what she expected, but she won't go against him as she knows to never try make herself sound like the bad person when he doesn't feel the same. Peeta will never blame her; she doesn't think he even knows how.
They lapse into a comfortable silence again, neither of them saying a word out loud but saying them in their heads and their embrace, and the other understands all of it. They say 'I'm sorry' with the brush of her fingers over his heart and his hands rubbing her back, and then they say 'I forgive you' with his lips kissing her forehead and her lips against his chest above his shirt. No words are needed, not really.
But she needs to say one thing before it's lost and forgotten, or she leaves it too late and then is too nervous to say it. Before he thinks she's only saying it because she feels guilty or before she lets too much time pass and makes it seem like she is only saying it because she had no other option.
"I want to meet your family when they come." She whispers, lifting her head so she can look up at him, and he brushes the hair out of her eyes, making her smile softly. "Can I?" She asks, sounding nervous even though she knows the answer already. "I promise I really do want to meet them."
He nods. "Then you will." Like it's final, and her head goes back to lie on his chest, not a word being said between them for the rest of the night. They've said all that needed to be said.
When she sleeps beside him that night, on the right side like always, his left leg as straight as an arrow and she doesn't understand but won't say a word, she dreams of finally meeting the people who raised this perfect man she loves with everything in her. She dreams of how kind they must be, besides his mother, because she doesn't think she's ever loved a man the way she loves Peeta Mellark, and that goodness had to come from somewhere. The goodness that has made her fall in love with him so fast and hard for him in only five months.
If only she could tell him.
There it is. The longest chapter I had ever written for this fic to date! Woohoo. So I actually thought this would be a lot happier than it would be. But alas, I'm good (I hope) at angst so it crept up on me once more. This is just showing you that even though she's astronomically happy, it does not mean she is automatically cured and feels safe. She's still broken and it'll take time for her to be fixed.