A/N: I don't want to delay this chapter anymore than I already have with a long author's note, so I'll make it short: I'm so sorry for the wait. Thank you so immensely much for sticking with me. Thank you for waiting, reading, enjoying, reviewing...thank you. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.
A week passes by, and then another, and life is blissfully normal. Johanna has made herself at home here in 12. She still plans on returning to 7 at some point but is in no real rush. Peeta, Haymitch, and I aren't in any rush for her to leave, either. I think one of the strangest but most enjoyable changes since the end of the war is just the ability to have time. We never really had time before in our lives, just to live and enjoy ourselves and be around the people that we love. There was always some pressing concern, of having to move quickly enough to get food on the table or avoid punishment. Now, though, we can just be as we are, and be happy together in whatever way feels natural.
For Johanna, being here in 12 seems to feel very natural. She's adapted well to being here, and frankly I don't think I've ever seen her more carefree. She pokes fun at everyone and everything in the same way that she always has, but there is a new level of ease to her being that I hadn't seen before. I don't think I'd even fully realized the amount of tension that she managed to keep well hidden under an exterior of brazenness and sarcasm, but now that her anxiety is absent, or at least reduced, the difference is palpable. I don't think it will ever be possible for any of us to be truly absent of our fears or our pain; even if we think we could potentially rid ourselves of the past during the day, it will always come back to haunt us at night, in one way or another. But in a strange way, every step we can take to distance ourselves and regain some form of agency is empowering, even while we are fully aware that we will never be "complete", never entirely free of the burdens of the past. Giving up on any ill-conceived aspirations of perfection or totally healing frees us in its own way and allows us to more fully enjoy the everyday things that make life worth living. We don't need to be perfect. We just need to be.
Today, though, I don't possess this same sense of relaxation in ease as I often have recently, because today I have a mission in mind. I have a task I want to complete, and one I'd like to get as damn near perfect as I possibly can, too. At the moment, Peeta, Haymitch, Johanna, and I are all eating a late breakfast together at our house. The environment is light and fun, but I am focussed on making sure I am able to get done what I need. As we finish our food and Peeta moves to start clearing the table, I spring up quickly from my seat.
"I can do it, don't worry," I say, stacking all of our plates up and bringing them to the sink. Looking back at my companions while I scrub the plates, I see Peeta and Johanna looking at me with expressions of amused surprise, while Haymitch looks vaguely suspicious. Figures. If any of them were to pick up on the fact that I'm up to something, it would be him.
"Since when are you so eager to clean?" Johanna asks, smiling and shaking her head in a way that implies that she's finding me ridiculous. Normally I would just scowl at her and ignore her, but right now I just need to get this done.
"It's not that deep, Johanna," I say, rolling my eyes. "Peeta does it so much of the time, I just figured I should help." Peeta comes up to me and wraps his arms around me from behind.
"I love you," he murmurs, planting a kiss on my cheek.
"I love you too," I say, still washing as we talk. "Are you headed to the bakery now?"
"Yeah, that's the plan," he says, and I look down at the plates in an effort not to smile. "But I can hang around if you need help." No.
"No, don't worry, I'm good," I say, trying to make my voice sound as casual as possible. I look up at Peeta's face and see a hint of some sort of recognition there, a sort of skepticism or an understanding that I'm being weird. Whatever it is, though, it fades quickly into a smile. He kisses my lips and I kiss him back. I mentally berate myself a little for how easy it is for his lips to break my focus, but I'd never actually want it to be any other way.
"Alright then, I'm off," he says once we part, giving me one more quick peck for good measure.
"Have a good day," I say to him. He says a quick goodbye to Haymitch and Johanna, and then disappears out the door. I immediately let the dish I'm washing clatter to a rest in the sink.
"Why are you being so fucking weird?" Haymitch asks. Johanna snorts in agreement.
"I needed to talk to you two, and I needed Peeta gone," I say, sitting back down at the table. I actually see a flash of concern cross Johanna's face.
"Is something wrong?" she asks. I feel both touched and slightly amused by this, because it is genuinely sweet that she's worried, but I'm also aware that I'm about to take this conversation in a very different direction than it seems like the two of them are expecting.
"No, everything's totally fine," I say, trying my best to give a reassuring smile. "But I need both of you to help me. You're without a doubt the best conspirators I know." I find myself smiling more genuinely now at the confusion on both of their faces. I'm enjoying holding this sort of power over them right now.
"What are you talking about?" Haymitch asks. I decide to take pity on them and just let them in on it without dragging it out any longer.
"Peeta's birthday is tomorrow," I say with a grin. "You two are helping me plan a surprise for him." Haymitch rolls his eyes as if this is the stupidest thing he's ever heard, but I see him relax into his chair and know that he is relieved nothing more serious is going on. Johanna is just annoyed. She throws her spoon at me, and I dodge it easily.
"Oh my God," she says. "I fucking hate you, Brainless. Why did you let us think something was wrong?!" I find myself laughing and her eyes shoot daggers at me.
"Come on, you've got to admit it was kind of funny," I say, and she just crosses her arms and glares at me.
"So what do you need from us?" Haymitch chimes in, bringing Johanna and I back to the actual topic at hand.
"I need advice on what to do, and then hopefully your help making it happen," I say, and it's true. Ever since the beautiful effort Peeta put into my birthday last year, I have been determined to pay him back, even though I know he doesn't even consider it a debt. It doesn't help my feeling of guilt though that I was still in a bad enough place then that I couldn't fully enjoy what he did for me. I've been set upon doing something big for him, something special and creative and fun and worthy of just how much good Peeta puts into the world for me. When planning this big aspiration, however, I failed to realize just how shitty I am at this sort of thing. I am not very creative, not particularly fun or good at coming up with a good sort of party spirit. I have no idea what the right sort of thing to do would be, or how to plan it. All I know is I desperately want to do something, and that Johanna and Haymitch should be able to help me. None of us are particularly cheery people, but I know the two of them have more capability to scheme than anyone else I've ever met. I think that should transfer to creativity in planning well enough.
"How can we help?" Johanna asks, her voice skeptical as she stares at me. "We're two of the most pessimistic, self-loathing fuckers on the planet. Why would we be helpful planning a birthday party?" Haymitch laughs at this.
"She's right, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do whatever you want, but I don't really know how much we can help you." Now it's my turn to be annoyed.
"Shut up," I say, rolling my eyes. "You're both stupid, and you're diminishing yourselves. We know Peeta better than anyone else, we should be able to come up with something good together." Haymitch still looks unconvinced, but Johanna looks smug, as if she's figured something out.
"Oh, I know what you want," she says, leaning back in her chair.
"And what do you think that is?" I ask, playing along.
"You want advice," she says. I look blankly at her.
"Well, yeah," I say. "I mean, I told you that. I thought that was obvious."
"No, I mean you want advice," she says, emphasizing the word this time. When I still don't react, she rolls her eyes before speaking again. "You're looking for advice on how to spice things up and give Lover Boy a little birthday treat." Haymitch chokes on his coffee and coughs uncontrollably. I gape at Johanna. I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting her to say, but I know it definitely wasn't that.
"How the hell did you get there?!" I ask as Haymitch continues his sputtering. "What did I say that made you think that was what I meant?" Johanna shrugs.
"I don't know," she says. "What you were saying was stupid, so I figured you were trying to beat around the bush or something." I shake my head and put my face in my palms, trying to cover my bright crimson cheeks and regain my composure.
"Oh my God, no, that is not what I was asking!" I murmur into my hands. Johanna laughs, whether at my embarrassment or Haymitch's choking I'm not sure.
"For the love of God please change the subject," Haymitch says once he's recovered. I manage to lift my head.
"I do actually want your help," I say to them. "Peeta does so much for me. I know it's stupid, but I really really want to make this perfect for him. He knows I love him, but sometimes I feel guilty for not being able to show it as openly as he can for me." My voice gets quieter as my words grow more vulnerable, and I find myself looking down at my hands again. "I just...I just want to do something so he knows. So there can't be any doubt left, even in the corners of his brain still tainted by the hijacking. I know he'd say he doesn't need any big display of love to believe it, and that's probably true. But it isn't just about what he needs. He deserves it, and I want to give it to him."
I look across the table at Haymitch and Johanna as I finish speaking and find their expressions surprisingly unreadable for two people I know so well. They make brief eye contact with each other, though, and I can see recognition pass between them. They are on the same page.
"Goddamnit," Johanna says, rolling her eyes.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"She's annoyed, sweetheart," Haymitch says. "Because you're way more convincing than either of us wanted you to be. But we're in. We'll help."
A smile forms on my face, and I don't think that it leaves for a very long time as we brainstorm together. I was right in my suspicion that Haymitch and Johanna would be good at this, despite whatever they may have thought to the contrary. Haymitch especially has a knack for planning the surprise element of it all. Frankly, it's extremely ridiculous, almost comical even, to think about someone who not all that long ago was helping plan a rebellion and orchestrate rescue missions now working to organize a birthday party. The whole thing borders on absurd, but it also manages to fill me with a level of warmth I would never have thought possible.
After about an hour of talking, we have a plan in place, and a damn good one if I do say so myself. We each take on tasks to make it go more smoothly and divide up some of the work. I take it as a huge testament to Johanna's love for Petea that she actually agrees to communicate with Delly for us, someone she has sworn repeatedly she can't stand. Albie should be on closing duty in the bakery today, so when Peeta gets home Haymitch will go over there to fill the younger boy in. We all agree to make it clear to everyone involved that this is supposed to be kept entirely under wraps until it actually happens, so Peeta will be in complete surprise. I can't be sure, but I think it's actually going to work.
Haymitch and Johanna get up to leave soon after we finish our planning, and though Haymitch hurries out, Johanna lingers in the doorway.
"What's up?" I ask her. The corner of her mouth lifts up and I see a slightly devious grin begin to form across her face.
"You do want my help. With the other thing," she states, referencing her previous theory. There is no question in her voice, it's a fully formed statement.
"I really don't," I say, shaking my head. She laughs.
"Yeah, you really do," she says lightly, turning to open the door. "Don't worry," she says as she heads out. "I'll bring some things by." She closes the door and I'm left shaking my head, entirely unsure of what she means and not even sure I want to know.
Shaking my head at Johanna's antics, I turn my focus back to the task at hand. Quickly I throw on my hunting jacket and grab my bow before heading out to the woods. I don't think I can actually catch what I'm looking for here, I've never seen it naturally in 12, but I know Rooba should have some if I bring her something good to trade. It's sort of fun in a way to be out in the woods with a specific goal in mind. It all feels extremely natural to me. I move swiftly through the trees, shooting a couple of squirrels quickly and without issue. I then turn my attention to trying to catch some birds, knowing they will be better bargaining chips for trade than the squirrels.
Within the hour, I've managed to bag some geese and a pheasant. I decide to gather some flowers and weeds for good measure, taking note of the resilient buds that are beginning to bloom as the winter frost begins to lessen. I think I spy a dandelion or two. Feeling extremely pleased with myself, I start the walk back into town, heading towards the market. Rooba is more than happy to trade with me; she's particularly eager to get her hands on the pheasant. I end up leaving the market with more than enough chicken than I could possibly need for what I'm planning, which, frankly, is a good thing, because the chance that I'll screw it up and need to start over at one point or another is much higher than I'd care to admit.
I head back to Victor's Village and tuck the meat away in the fridge. Peeta will probably see it sometime when he's cooking, but I doubt it'll strike him as odd, since it's a pretty normal thing to keep in the house. I don't know why he'd ever suspect what I have in mind. I'm about to flop down onto the couch and rest for a bit, satisfied with the process I've made today, when there's a knock on the door. I go to answer it, and am somewhat surprised to see Johanna again, standing on my porch holding a small black bag in her hands. The most concerning thing about it all, though, is the look on her face. She's grinning like a mad woman.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"I brought options," she says, pushing her way inside without elaborating. I follow her in, still confused.
"What do you mean?" I ask. She holds the bag out to me in answer and I take it somewhat warily. When I open it and see its contents, I realize I was entirely right to worry. Johanna has managed to fill the small bag with an inordinate amount of lingerie. I don't look long enough to fully process what's in front of me, but I know I can identify at least three distinct colors. I look at Johanna, half in embarrassment and shock, and half in some form of horror.
"I - why?!" is all I can get out. She cackles at me.
"I told you I'd bring stuff by, you shouldn't be this surprised!" she counters, still laughing.
"I cannot imagine putting a single one of those things on my body!" I shriek. She rolls her eyes. "Where did you even get those?"
"Oh please, it's easy," she says, and I can tell my face registers surprise. Johanna shakes her head. "Wow, you're naive, Brainless. This is completely tame compared to what they sell in the Capitol."
"I am perfectly fine with remaining blissfully unaware about all of that," I say, reaching out to hand the bag back to her. "I don't need this, you can take it back."
"Nah, keep it," she says. "You can do whatever you want with it, but it's yours now."
"Johanna, I -" I'm about to argue back, but I cut off my speech and hide the bag behind my back immediately when Peeta walks in the room.
"Hi love," he says, and then looks up and seems to fully process that Johanna is here too. "Oh, hey Jo, what's up?"
"Not much, Lover Boy," she says smoothly, the conversation from mere moments ago nowhere discernable on her. It's good that she's able to keep cool, because I can tell my cheeks are bright pink. "Just decided to come annoy your girl over here." Peeta chuckles before coming over and kissing me lovingly. I feel myself relax, until I realize I'm still holding the bag behind me.
"Yeah, she is annoying me," I say jokingly, trying my best to keep it all humorous. "You deal with her for a minute, will you? I'll be right back." I don't really wait to see what happens next, I just bound up the stairs and into my bedroom. I shove the bag into one of my drawers, and once I'm satisfied that it's covered up enough I just take a moment to breathe. I swear I'm going to kill Johanna.
When I come back downstairs, I am relieved to see that my strange behavior doesn't seem to have been noticed, at least not by Peeta. All is normal; Peeta is cooking, Johanna is lying upside down on the couch with her feet up rattling off some story about the people in 7. I sit down next to her, still annoyed but trying not to look it.
"You'll thank me later," she whispers, so quiet I can barely hear it even from right next to her. I roll my eyes.
"I highly doubt that," I mutter back. "Did you at least talk to Delly like you were supposed to?"
"Yes, don't worry. Blondie is all in. She's even bringing food." I smile at that despite myself. Even with all of Johanna's distraction and disruption, the plan is in motion, and that's what matters.
The rest of the evening unfolds blissfully normally. Peeta cooks, and Johanna stays over for dinner. We all just end up spending the evening watching Plutarch's singing show and making fun of it ruthlessly. By the end of the night, Peeta and I are happily curled up together in bed. I've just showered, and he seems to be enjoying wrapping my wet hair around his finger in a repeated circular motion. My head is on his chest, and I find myself smiling at the easy, relaxed beat of his heart.
"I love you," I say quietly. I look up at his face and see him smiling. Even after all this time, he still gets this little surprised, happy look when I tell him I love him unprompted, with no real motivating factor other than my feelings. It makes me happy to see his joy, but also slightly sad that there is still something ingrained in him that makes him surprised when someone reminds him he is deserving of love.
"I love you too," he says back, planting a kiss atop my head. "Is everything ok? You seemed...I don't know. Off, today, I guess." I feel guilty creeping into me. The last thing I wanted from all of this was to make him worry about me, or to think that I'm mad at him for some reason.
"I'm totally fine, Peeta, don't worry," I say, trying to make my voice as convincing as possible because I genuinely mean it. "Really. I've had a lot on my mind, but not in a particularly bad way for once. I think I'm just not used to that, so it makes me act a little weird." He chuckles at this. "But I'm good. I'm happy." He smiles and pulls me closer to him.
"Good," he says. "I like you happy." I kiss his chest and wrap my leg over his before closing my eyes and settling in to sleep.
When I wake the next morning, I can tell by the quality of light that it's early. Peeta is still asleep beside me. It's a Saturday, and after a lot of cajoling from both me and Albie, Peeta finally agreed to let the younger boy deal with opening duties on weekends, giving himself a little more time off. This is good, because it should give Albie some time to work on what we need him to without Peeta noticing.
I unwind myself from Peeta's embrace and pad down the stairs as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake him. My goal is to make this morning feel special enough that he'll go to work happy, assuming that was his celebration. When I reach the kitchen, I find the flowers that I picked yesterday and put them in a vase with water, setting them at the center of the counter. I begin working on making pancakes when I suddenly become aware of someone's presence behind me.
"Whatcha doing?" Peeta whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around my waist. Having been lost inside my head I wasn't expecting him, and I shriek at the surprise. He laughs.
"No fair!" I say, turning around so I'm facing him and pouting. "You were supposed to sleep in today! I wanted to have this all ready before you got up."
"Sorry, my body's on the bakery schedule, even when I'm not," he says lightly. I sling my arms over his shoulders.
"You should be," I say jokingly, before bringing my mouth to his in a long, tender kiss. "Happy birthday," I murmur against his mouth.
"Thank you," he says as we pull apart, a broad smile forming. "I appreciate so much that you wanted to get something together for me."
"Of course, Peeta," I say. "Today is your day, I want to do everything to make it perfect."
"Would you let me take over the cooking, then?" he asks, pointing to the pan. "Because I think that's burning." I turn to see my pancake charred so dark it's remarkable it didn't catch fire.
"Shit!" I cry, and he just laughs and takes the spatula out of my hand, moving me aside gently. Slightly annoyed at myself, though pleased with the happy expression on his face as he works, I hop up onto the counter to keep him company.
"So, you have to tell me what you want to do today," I say, hoping that it will seem like I don't have much planned, when in reality I'm just trying to get a clearer sense of his schedule so I know how much time I have.
"Well I'll head to work in about an hour," Peeta says, sending a pancake soaring above the pan and back down with an easy flick of his wrist. "I close tonight, so I'll probably be home around 5. Then, I really don't care what we do, as long as I'm with you." I roll my eyes playfully.
"You're too easy," I tease. "And did you really give yourself closing duty on your birthday?" Peeta laughs at my exasperation.
"Albie closed last night and opened this morning. I felt bad! Besides, working there does make me happy, even if part of closing is cleaning." I shake my head in mock disapproval, but I'm actually happy with how this will work out. As long as he can take what we need with him without Peeta noticing, it's good for Albie to leave first, so he can get here to help set it up.
Peeta sets the platter of pancakes down on the table and I make us both mugs of hot chocolate.
"Ooh, very celebratory," he says when I hand his to him.
"Well it's only fair," I say. "It's not everyday you turn 20."
"God, that's weird," Peeta says, shaking his head. "Twenty." He has a funny little look on his face as he tries to process the age, and I can't help but laugh.
"Don't make fun of me on my birthday!" he calls, faking affront. This only makes me laugh harder. He shakes his head at me. "My my, Katniss Everdeen. What would dear old Effie Trinket ever say if she saw you show such disrespect?"
"Probably that I'm the same as I've always been," I retort, and Peeta laughs. We eat our pancakes and enjoy each other's company for as long as possible until he has to leave for the bakery.
"I love you," I say, kissing him quickly as he puts on his coat. "Come home right when you're done, okay? I don't want to miss out on too much of your birthday."
"Sounds good," he says, kissing me one more time. "I love you too." As soon as he's left I run upstairs, throwing on clothes as quickly as possible, before scooting out the door and banging on Haymitch's. It's still on the early side, or at least by standards, so it takes several minutes of me pounding before the door opens and reveals a very sleepy looking Haymitch on the other side.
"What?" he says irritatedly, rubbing his eyes.
"I didn't get a chance to confirm with you yesterday," I say. "Is Albie in?" Haymitch rolls his eyes.
"Of course that boy is in," he says. "Kid idolizes Peeta more than I've ever seen directed at anyone. You think he'd pass up the opportunity to do something like this for him? When I was trying to leave the bakery yesterday, he kept me there for 20 extra fucking minutes rambling on about design and asking if I had any thoughts on what frosting he should use." I snort. That sounds a lot like Albie.
"Okay, good," I say. "You should be at my house a little before 5 tonight. Can you tell Johanna too, and make sure Delly knows?"
"Fine, fine," he says, waving me away. "Just get off my porch." I acquiesce, knowing Haymitch will do what I asked him to, if for no other reason than not wanting to deal with my anger if he doesn't. I head back to my place and clean the kitchen up from breakfast quickly before taking a deep breath and assessing the task in front of me.
It seems excessive to start cooking dinner this early in the morning, but I've never in my life cooked something as complicated as what I'm attempting today, and I really want to get it right. Taking one of Peeta's aprons out of the drawer and putting it on, I pull out the family recipe book he recreated and begin working. I realized almost immediately that I am out of my depth, but do my best to follow every last detail of the instructions, tasting along the way to make sure I haven't accidentally created anything inedible. I have to start the stock over once, but when I get it right I think it's actually not bad.
After several hours and not nearly as many failed attempts as I had feared might be necessary, I have a complete dish that I'm actually pretty proud of. When I taste it, I know it isn't the same caliber as the version of it that Peeta made for Haymitch and I almost a year ago now, but it's pretty solid, and I think he'll like that I made it, like to see me carrying on a family recipe. I think he'll like to see a reminder that my family is his and his family is mine, however decimated and broken and lost. That we are each other's family.
While cooking didn't take quite as long as I worried it might have, I'm glad I left myself time, because the kitchen is a mess. I had more success in my venture than I predicted but I am not a neat cook on a good day, and in attempting this recipe I have essentially created a disaster zone in our kitchen. I clean it all up and then decide to clean myself up too, since the apron wasn't much protection against my flurry.
I change into jeans and a sweater in Peeta's favorite color that he has complimented me on before, as well as rebraiding my hair. By the time I've done everything it's later in the day than I thought, and I only have an hour or two to kill before people should start coming over. I let myself rest for a bit, and it's only now that I start to feel nervous, that maybe this was a stupid idea. I scold myself for it pretty quickly, though, because I know that even if tonight were to go horribly for some reason, Peeta wouldn't care. He'd be touched and grateful that I even bothered to try. I know this and I have complete faith in it, but that isn't always enough to entirely eliminate the insecurities and doubts ruminating in the crevices of my mind. It's frustrating, in a way, that even now I still can't fully escape the worst in me sometimes. But I also know that I shouldn't get stuck in an all or nothing mentality; there will always be progress, and there will always be setbacks. That's just the way this goes.
I'm stirred from my thoughts when the door opens and slams shut. Just based on the energy, I'm almost certain it's Johanna. I head downstairs and find myself proven right.
"Hey," I say as I walk down the last few stairs. Johanna has already made herself at home, flopping down on the couch unceremoniously. "It's rare that you're the earliest person," I tease. She snorts.
"Fair point," she concedes. "But you don't get to give me shit. I'm here, and I've talked to Blondie twice in the past two days. That's way too many times." I laugh and sit down next to her.
"Well, you'll have to play nice with her tonight, but then you'll have a break," I say. She groans. "And I appreciate everything you've done to help. Really, I have." This, at least, gets a smile out of her.
"No problem, Brainless," she says. "We help each other out, even when the task is stupid as hell." The door opens again and Haymitch makes his way in, nodding at us and sitting down in his usual armchair without a word.
"Wow, if it's unusual to see me be on time it's even weirder seeing you do it," Johanna says to Haymitch. "Your girlfriend must be rubbing off on you." Haymitch flips her off and Johanna and I both laugh.
"How many other people are we waiting for?" he asks, ignoring Johanna's antics.
"Just three," I say. "Albie, Delly, and Maxwell. I thought we'd just keep it small. Albie is bringing a cake if he can sneak it past Peeta, and apparently Delly is bringing some sort of food too, but I don't know what." Almost as if on cue, there is a knock on the door. I get up to open it and see Albie waiting on the porch, panting slightly, and holding a large, covered cake tin.
"I hope I'm not late!" he says, walking inside with me. "Peeta's still cleaning up in the bakery, he'll probably be another half hour or so. I broke a tray on purpose in the front of shop so I could sneak out the back with this while he swept up. I felt awful and even asked if I should stay to clean it, even though I knew that was besides the whole point, but he told me it was fine and that he would handle it. Hopefully he'll understand once he gets here." I chuckle at this. Albie is so eager to help it's almost comical, but certainly very endearing.
"That was good thinking, Albie," I tell him. "It'll be fine, don't worry." The boy smiles.
"Thanks," he says. "You can take a look at the cake, if you'd like. I really hope it looks alright. I tried really hard, but I know it's not as good as something Peeta would make. I struggled a bit with the royal icing, but I think it turned out pretty well..." He keeps on rambling about bakery terms that mean next to nothing to me. I see Johanna and Haymitch exchange a look and almost laugh; it is abundantly clear on both of their faces that this boy is simply too much for either of them.
Lifting up the lid that covers the cake, I see immediately that Albie had no reason to worry. The cake is frosted smoothly in a creamy off white, and Albie has decorated it all over with additional layers of icing applied so that they look like strokes of paint on one of Peeta's canvases. Yellows, oranges, and greens of all shades fill the cake, and it really looks beautiful.
"This is perfect," I say, and Albie beams. "Really, Albie. He's going to love it." Albie looks simply over the moon at this as he goes to take a seat in the armchair across from Haymitch. He starts up a conversation with him, and I'm not sure if he thinks that since Haymitch was the one who came to ask him about the cake yesterday he will be the easiest to talk to, but if he does he is certainly wrong. I almost feel as if I should intervene and just talk to Albie so he doesn't feel uncomfortable when Delly and Maxwell arrive. This is perfect, because these too warm, bubbly individuals will be able to make him feel welcome and engaged more than I ever could.
"Katniss!" Delly squeals, wrapping me in a hug. "Thank you for including us in this, I'm so excited!" Slightly overwhelmed but still warmed by her enthusiasm, I give her the best smile I can manage.
"Thanks for coming," I say. Maxwell and Delly both beam.
"Here," he says, setting down a tray of greens on the counter. "Delly gets all the credit, she cooked them, I just carried them." Delly smiles at her husband.
"I didn't want to show up empty handed!" she says. "But Johanna told me you were cooking something, so I thought I'd just add a simple side of some sort."
"It's perfect Delly," I say. "Thank you for bringing it." The pair moves to join everyone else in the living room, and I busy myself setting up everything on the counter, organizing the stew, greens, cake, and bouquet of wildflowers so they all look neat. Unsure of exactly what to do with myself now that everything seems to be done, I just take a seat on the couch between Johanna and Delly.
"So now we wait," Johanna says, and I nod. I feel a slight bit of nervousness creeping in, so I just sit back and listen to everyone talk around me. Delly and Maxwell, who's sitting on the arm of the couch with his arm around her, are talking with Albie about pregnancy cravings. Delly is hardly showing at all yet, still being in her first trimester, but there is a sort of radiant glow about her. Everyone always talks about that, but I'd never really noticed it in any of the pregnant women I'd been around before; every expecting mother in 12 was just struggling to get enough food to feed herself and her baby, there was no ability to bask in the light of impending motherhood. It's different, what I'm seeing in Delly, but it's nice. She and Maxwell both look almost indecently happy.
Haymitch is the first person to spy Peeta making his way up towards the house through the window. The energy in the room shifts quickly, as we realize we never actually agreed upon how we wanted to reveal the surprise.
"Everyone just gather around the counter," Johanna says. "Katniss can go outside to get him and make up some excuse that she needs to greet him to show him something, and then we'll all be here when he comes." Everyone seems to agree with that, so they all get up and I walk out the door. Peeta's still a bit away when I make my way down the porch, but his face lights up when he sees me and he starts walking faster.
"Hey," he says, kissing me on the cheek when he reaches me. "You didn't have to come out and get me."
"I, uh, I needed to show you something," I say, hoping my ineptitude with acting doesn't make everything too obvious. Peeta looks confused.
"What?" Realizing I didn't think that far ahead, I panic.
"I...I broke something in the kitchen," I say quickly, unsure of entirely where that came from. "I wanted to warn you before you went inside. It's kind of a mess in there." Peeta chuckles at this.
"It's ok Katniss, I forgive you," he says teasingly. "Let's go in. I can help get everything fixed up." We walk back up the porch together and my heart is pounding unnecessarily hard in my chest. I open the door, and quickly we are met with a chorus of "Happy Birthday!", Delly's voice sticking out loudest among them all. I turn to Peeta and see genuine surprise on his face, which turns to happiness very quickly.
"Oh my God, you did not do all this!" he says, looking at me in overjoyed astonishment. I blush a little bit and nod.
"I just thought...you deserved something special for today," I say, feeling slightly embarrassed for no discernable reason. Peeta, though, is not embarrassed, and leans down to kiss me fully and deeply, leaning us both down so that one of my legs lifts off the ground in the dip. We only pull apart when Johanna wolf whistles and interrupts us. Peeta is smiling and laughing as he pulls me into a hug.
"You're amazing," he whispers into my ear. "I love you so much." I smile as we make our way over to everyone else. Peeta hugs everyone in turn, telling them all how happy he is and how much he appreciates them being here. When he turns his attention to the food and realizes that I've attempted the chicken stew his family made for special occasions, he's kissing me all over again, to the point where I'm a giggling mess and entirely out of breath. He sings Albie's praises over the design of the cake, and I'm not sure I've ever seen someone look so happy as the younger boy does right now.
When we all sit down to eat together, the evening is filled with humor, love, and uproarious laughter. The mood is light the entire night, with everyone just happy to be exactly where we are, celebrating this man who is so important in each and every one of our lives. Both my food and Delly's are delicious, if I do say so myself, and Peeta showers me with compliments over the stew, even though I know he could have done it even better. Haymitch, it turns out, brought over a couple bottles of wine, and everyone but Delly partakes, leaving the environment even warmer and more cheery. Silliness pervades the whole evening, with Johanna tossing green beans at Albie when he isn't looking, and a hormonal Delly tearing up over the deliciousness of the cake. It is damn good, though, so I honestly can't blame her.
Both Annie and Effie call at different points throughout the night to give Peeta their love. The joy continues on for hours, culminating with a round of that gambling game, which ends with Haymitch barking out a victory cry which causes Delly, who had fallen asleep with her head on Maxwell's shoulder, to jolt awake with a yelp, making everyone else collapse into laughter again.
As the night ends, Peeta hugs everyone again and again, saying repeatedly how grateful he is and how wonderful of a time he had. When everyone has headed home, he and I collapse on the couch together, exhausted and stuffed but entirely happy. He wraps me in his arms and pulls me into him as he lies back.
"You are incredible," he says, kissing the top of my head. "Just incredible. Words can't describe how much I love you. I can't believe you did all of this for me, Katniss. Just...thank you, so much." I realize he's a little choked up, and I turn so I can look him in the eyes, seeing that his are slightly glassy.
"You deserve all of this and more," I say, and I meant it. "Really, Peeta. You do so much for me, every single day. You put so much love into the world, and I just wanted to help show some of it back to you. You deserve all of this." Our lips meet in a tender and loving kiss, relishing the feel and the taste of each other.
"God," he breathes when we pull apart. "I don't think there's anything that could make this night better." An idea sparks in the back of my mind, and although part of me hates myself for it, I can't help the other part of me that just wants to see the look on his face.
"Wanna bet?" I ask. He raises his eyebrows at me, looking up in a slight expression of confusion. I unwrap myself from him and stand.
"I'll be right back," I tell him. "Stay here, it'll just be five minutes." Peeta looks confused but doesn't argue. I run up the stairs and into my room, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement as I open my drawer where I hid the bag from Johanna yesterday. I open it cautiously and see that my instinct yesterday had been right; there are three different outfits in here. I have no idea if that's even the right word to use in this case, my entire knowledge of lingerie coming from my unpleasant experiences with structured undergarments that were required with some of my gowns on the Victory Tour. Johanna has included three different sets of lacy somethings, and I find it disproportionately intimidating to think about putting one of these on my body, and yet for some reason I know I want to.
The first is a fluorescent pink bra and panty set, which I discard on principle, objecting to the intensity of the color for no real reason. I'm left looking at a red lacy one piece and an unlined black lace dress with a matching thong underneath. The word "dress" is really an overstatement, since I don't even think the thing will entirely cover my ass. Still, I feel more comfortable with the slightly more coverage this one should offer, so I decide to try slipping it on. After a minute or two or wrestling with one of the ties, I have it all on.
Looking in the mirror is a strange experience. I think I look...good? I'm not sure if I look like me, though, but I don't necessarily dislike it. I unbraid my hair and let it fall down around my shoulders, brushing it through slightly with my fingers. I move to put the bag away when I notice a pair of stockings made of sheer black mesh, which finish with a lace cuff at the top which matches the lace on the outfit exactly. Unsure whether I should be thanking Johanna or cursing her name, I slip them on, finding that the lace hits my mid thigh and still leaves several inches exposed between the top of the tights and the hem of the dress. Psyching myself up a bit, I take a deep breath before heading downstairs.
It is entirely strange to me that I am nervous right now. It's stupid, really. Peeta sees me completely naked on a regular basis, there is no good reason why him seeing me in more clothes than usual in this context should be intimidating. Something about the revealing nature of it all, though, about the attempt at sensuality makes me slightly apprehensive. It's weird, though, because despite the nervousness, I can't say I don't want to do it. I pad down the stairs quietly, seeing that Peeta is sitting up on the couch now, relaxed and leaning back into the cushions. My steps are quiet, especially with my feet covered by the stockings, and he doesn't notice me yet.
"Peeta," I call, my voice a little quieter than I meant it to be. He looks up at me, and I see his eyes grow wide and dark. I smirk a little, my confidence bolstered by the look on his face.
"Oh..." he breathes as I walk over to him. "...my God. Where...how...?" He's speechless, unable to string together a coherent sentence as his eyes rove over me.
"Johanna," I say in answer as I sit down in his lap, straddling his hips. I can feel him against me. He's already hard.
"You're stunning," he whispers, bringing his mouth down to my neck and sucking. "Stunning, sexy, beautiful, breathtaking..." he mutters into my skin. I feel a fire burning and spreading through me from the inside out. "No word is enough."
His arms wrap around me and cup my ass, and when he squeezes lightly I am suddenly energized and overwhelmed by my desire to have him. I start kissing him, intensely and passionately and breathlessly. I can tell he is initially slightly surprised by my frenzied pace, but he starts returning in vigor almost immediately. I tug at his sweater until he lifts his arms up so I can remove it, then scratch my fingers down his bare back as I kiss him and press my chest into his. The tiny separation between our skin from the lace somehow feels both like an unbearable wall and a remarkable tease. I feel my nipples grow hard, and I think he must feel it against him too, because he groans.
"Fuck, Katniss," he breathes. "You undo me." I smile at that as I take his earlobe in between my teeth briefly.
"Good," I say. "I want to." Feeling the need to be in control tonight, I grind my hips against his, revelling in the friction of my core against his still clothed erection. He curses again and I smile wickedly. I repeat my motions, circling my hips against him again and again, until I slide off of his lap and down to the floor. He has a tortured look on his face, as if he can't bear the separation, but it fades pretty quickly as I start undoing his belt buckle and removing him of his pants. His underwear is entirely tented as his excitement struggles against the constraint. I slide his boxers down his legs and discard them on the floor, allowing his cock to spring free, throbbing and hard, with the slightest bit of fluid already glistening at the tip.
"Mmm," I hum in approval. Wetness and heat pool between my legs and I can tell I am unbelievably aroused just at the sight of him. Positioning myself on my knees, I spread his legs apart so I can be in between them. Peeta, still sitting on the couch, stares down at me with a look of awe in his eyes. I like that look. I want to make sure it does not leave his face.
Lowering my head, I lick slowly along the underside of his cock, drawing a lazy path with my tongue from the base to the tip. He hisses and my eyes glance up at him. He meets my gaze and I see an overwhelming look of lust, his eyes a deep and dark shade of blue. Without breaking his gaze, I push my lips past his tip and take his cock into my mouth. I bob my head up and down, allowing my mouth to slip off of him and them back on again, using the wetness both of my mouth and his pre-cum to smooth my movements and allow for speed. It's messy, and I can tell we both like it that way. Peeta is groaning and murmuring my name like a prayer on his lips, and the sounds only spur me on. His hands end up in my hair, and in a way that feels almost unconscious he ends up somewhat directing the movement of my head. I let him, wanting to make this as perfect for him as possible.
"Fuck, you have to stop," he says after a while. I look up at him and see his eyes squeezed shut. "You're too fucking good at this, and I will not have this night end without me being inside you." Feeling immensely pleased with myself, I remove him from my mouth with a slight 'pop'. I lick my lips and he moans.
"C'mere," he says, and I oblige, straddling him once more. His hands find their way to my ass again, and before he has the chance to do it I pull off the slip dress, leaving me in just the thong and tights. Peeta makes a low sound that is almost like a growl and brings his mouth down to one of my breasts, taking it into his mouth. I whimper slightly at the blissful contact but refuse to let him entirely take the upper hand, rubbing my barely clothed pussy against his cock in a way that I'm sure, given his current state of arousal, is torturously slow. I can feel the heat coming off of him between my legs, and I'm sure he can feel the same from me. He swirls his tongue around my nipple and brings his hand in between us, moving the fabric of my panties aside and sliding a finger through my folds, which are slick and sopping with want.
"You're so wet for me, Katniss," he mutters. He slips one finger up inside me and then another, and I latch my lips onto the side of his neck, kissing and nipping and sucking as he curls his fingers and hits me just right.
"Oh, fuck, Peeta..." I moan, starting to move against him so that I am riding his hand. My desire for control takes a backseat momentarily to the feeling of unbelievable pleasure he is bringing me.
"Mmm, that's right," he whispers into my ear. "That's my girl." I'm not fully sure where this side of him is coming from but I am enthralled by it. I'm not sure if I have ever wanted him inside me more than I do at this very moment.
"Peeta," I breathe, lifting my hips so I slide off his fingers. He brings them to his mouth and sucks my arousal off of them, which only serves to make me wild. "Fuck me, Peeta. Now." Before he is even able to respond, I position my hips right on top of his own and sink down onto his cock. We both hiss and moan at the sensation. It is unbelievably good, more intense than I could even begin to fathom. We are both already so close that I start to ride him with abandon, moving my hips at a fast pace as we both chase something we are close to approaching.
"Fuck, Katniss," he moans, cupping my ass with his hands as I place my own on his shoulders to give me more leverage. "You're crazy. I love you so much."
"Oh," I whimper as I feel the beginning of my orgasm start to build. "Peeta, fuck fuck fuck..." I crash down on top of him and feel him release into me. We come, hard and together, and I'm unsure if I've ever felt more thoroughly sated. He thrusts into me with the aftershocks of his orgasm and I feel myself convulsing around him, each small movement of his cock sending another jolt of pleasure through me. When I finally pull myself off of him, neither of us have the ability to walk, so we lay on the couch together, Peeta's fingers lazily playing with the lace at the top of my stockings.
"Well," he breathes. "As usual, you were right, I was wrong."
"Hmm?" I ask, exhaustion creeping over me and pleasure clouding my mind.
"You were able to make this night even better after all."