I leave Plutarch's office with a scowl. Great, now I have to find Katniss and tell her about the morning meeting. It's past 11, so I head to the room she shares with Joanna. I'm surprised when I turn the corner and find Gale of all people turning into the same hall as me. Its more than a little awkward. And since he's not big on conversation I guess I have to be the one to speak first.
"Looking for Katniss?"
"Yeah. Coin wants to go over the new schedule and discuss possible propo locations for this week. You?"
"Plutarch sent me to tell her there's going to be a meeting of the Star Squad at 0 eight hundred." I replied. And we both nod to each other like this is reasonable and common. But there's still a tension as we both head for her door. We stand there for a second, but then I just reach out and rap my knuckles lightly to knock and announce our presence.
"Come in," Joanna's voice calls from inside and I think both Gale and I brace ourselves.
I open the door and look around the small grey room with two bunks, but find only one girl in sight. And its not the girl we're looking for.
"Hey Loverboy. Hi there Gorgeous." She calls us both by the nicknames she reserves when she wants to make us feel really uncomfortable as she lounges atop her bunk in a tank top and those tiny underwear shorts she's always wearing instead of pants during combat training. And I can feel the tension in my shoulders when I reply with a simple hi. Gale doesn't even go that far, just scans the room and not seeing Katniss asks where she is.
"Oh, where she usually is at this time of night." Joanna answers his question mysteriously, with one eyebrow arched suggestively.
"Which is?" Gale asks with barely contained annoyance.
"Down to the lower levels. The storage section. She always takes off there to work out her frustrations when she can't sleep. I tell her she should just work them out the old fashioned way, but well, you know her. Never one to take good advice when it's given." Joanna says with a positively wicked grin as she eyes the two of us like we're a meal.
"Work out what the old fashioned way?" I ask, brushing off her stare, and not getting her meaning. Gale too seems a little confused by her doublespeak.
"Oh, she's been incredibly tense lately. Tossing and turning at all hours of the night. Waking up sweaty and frustrated." She says carelessly, and I wonder if Katniss's night terrors are getting worse. It certainly sounds like it. But the gleam in Joanna's eye puts me off a bit.
"So I told her the only cure was to pound it out, you know….with one of you. Or both of you." She finally says after a long drawn out moment. And I realize, with absolute embarrassment, what she's talking about. I'm sure my face goes up in flames, probably a brilliant shade of red. I look over at Gale and he looks pissed, but incredibly he looks a little flushed too.
Joanna just laughs at the both of us. And Gale scowls.
"I offered to help, you know, in case things had gotten a little stale in your trio. After all, what are friends for? Besides, I love the quiet, stoic ones. They always know just what to do to make a girl scream." She tells Gale with unbelievable audacity. Like she's offering to pick up his laundry, or trade kitchen duty shifts. It makes my eyes almost bobble out of my head how forward she's being right now.
And he's speechless. Just kind of frozen there in her gaze like a fly caught in the web.
But then she turns her large brown eyes on me, and I feel a shiver run up my spine.
"I wouldn't mind breaking you in either blondie, I've found the nice ones are usually very attentive. I bet you'd remember exactly what girl likes after just one time." She says in a low, soft voice and I feel hot and cold all over.
Not that it's not a nice compliment, I mean it is, but Joanna's kind of nuts, and I don't see her like that. At least I don't want to. I'm trying really hard not to right now but there's this weird brazen energy she's throwing out into the ether that makes it really awkward and uncomfortable for all of us.
And the silence stretches as she smiles up at both of us. I gulp.
"Uhhh thanks, but um, I think I'll just go down to storage and look for Katniss." I finally say, trying to cut the tension. And then I'm turning on my heel and trying to get the hell out of there as fast as I can.
Gale's right on my heels, and I think maybe we just both escaped with our lives we're walking so fast.
We make it to storage without saying one word about what happened, and find Beetee in his laboratory. Gale asks him if he's seen Katniss and surprisingly he nods and offers to walk us to where he says she usually holds up. It's a small out of the way corridor, full of old unused storage rooms. We walk almost to the end of the hall before we hear it.
There's only a slight strumming coming from behind the last door. Betee motions toward the door before turning to move away. Right as Gale is about to knock, she starts to sing. Her voice is whisper-like, but loud enough that we can hear. I can just make out the words.
Wandering soul
Wandering eye
Wondering what's gone wrong with me
Trying not to try
Swayed by the wind
Swayed by desire
Can't reach the moon up above and I
Don't dare touch the fire
The trouble with wanting is I want you
The trouble with wanting is I want you
The trouble with wanting is I want you
And I want you all the time
Her voice is so beautiful. It's rich and velvety on this song, and rings clearly like a bell. But I feel my mouth go dry at these words, at her song. It is not one I've ever heard before. It's not a mountain air or a Capitol sugar pop melody. It feels incredibly private and...intimate. The words that she's singing, they're like secrets that no one should know.
Always on my mind
Always alone
You could be miles and miles away
But somehow you're close
If I can't have my cake
And I can't eat it too
I guess the sound of your voice and the ache
It'll just have to do
Cuz the trouble with wanting is I want you
The trouble with wanting is I want you
The trouble with wanting is I want you
And I want you all the time
I feel entranced, at the back of my mind I know she would probably want to kill both of us for listening to this, but I can't stop. It's like getting a snapshot into her mind. Because somehow, this is her song, she must have made it up after Pollux began teaching her to play. I look over at Gale and he looks back at me. He's not budging. He wants to listen to this too.
If you never come back
If you never call
I'll say I understand
When I don't at all
Cuz the trouble with wanting is I want you
The trouble with wanting is I want you
The trouble with wanting is I want you
And I want you all the time
Her voice drops low, saying each word in a velvety whisper sing song that wraps around my brain. Hearing her longing, her desperation does something to my brain. I feel like I'm in two places at once. I'm certainly in front of the door to the storage room, but I'm also back in my house at 12. I'm back with her, in my room, in my bed, in my kitchen, in my shower. All those places and all those times when she was mine. I can't help the memories running through me. I've been trying to put them out of my mind for so long, I thought it was working. But this, hearing her sing like this, it's like the final crack in the dam. It all comes flooding in.
The trouble with wanting is I want you
The trouble with wanting is I want you
I see you there, and I see that line
And I want you all the time
Oh I want you all the time
I have to physically clamp my teeth down hard in my mouth to keep from throwing the door open. I look over at Gale, and see he is still in a daze. Is he doing the same thing I am? Fantasizing about the girl behind the door? I rub my eyes hard, willing the images to stop assaulting my brain. When I turn back he's staring at me. He's got a strange look in his eyes. Uncertainty. That's it. I don't think I've ever seen him look like that before. I realize with bewilderment that he thinks the song is about me. It stuns me. I mean I want it to be about me. I got caught up in it. But now, with the music and her voice gone I really don't know. It could just as easily be about him. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Of course it's about him.
"Who do you think she was talking about?" He whispers, those uncanny grey eyes of his trying to pierce into my brain through sheer determination.
"I honestly have no idea." I say and I mean it. Who knows what goes on in Katniss's mind? She's too unpredictable.
"So you're probably thinking it's about me, and I'm over here thinking it's about you." He says with a disbelieving shake of his head.
"We could both be wrong. Maybe it's about both of us. Hell, maybe it's about Finnick and we're both idiots." I say with a laugh hoping to cut through the tension.
"I never thought she was capable of saying things like that out loud." His eyes widened a bit, probably from leftover shock.
"Neither did I." I say, but it's not entirely true. At least not at this point. There was a time when I had believed like Gale, that Katniss wasn't capable of being an outwardly passionate person. Except maybe when it came to her family and people she truly cares about. But after we got back from the last victory tour...I had seen a different side of her. She could be passionate, but it was usually with her actions not her words. I had never heard her say anything more than kiss me, or usually just my name, but there was the one time, the first time when she told me to touch her however I wanted. The haze threatens to engulf me in foggy sexcrazed memories. I blink quickly trying to get back to the moment.
We both stare at the door. Behind it is the person who holds the answers to our questions, but as I peer over at Gale and he looks back at me, I see we have the same thought. She has the answers, but she's not likely to give them. He knocks.
"Who is it?" Her voice calls in its usual gruff manner. Gone is the sultry temptress with the velvet voice. I almost laughed. How does she turn it off so fast? Gale opens the door.
There she is in a plain white undershirt and her grey fatigues. She's not wearing any makeup, her braid is messy and she has circles under her eyes. She looks so normal, like she could have been just sitting quietly. But I remember the catch of her breath, the taste of her skin, and for a second it's almost too much. I'm glad that Gale is the one who walked in first and that she doesn't see me immediately. I'm afraid of what she might find if she looked into my eyes. Certainly not her very good friend. He's left the building for tonight. Someone put out an alert, he's gone missing and he's not coming back for a while. So when I walk in behind Gale I don't look at her face, I look at the instrument in her lap. I look at her hands and the way she holds it loosely. I study her fingers and her wrists. Gale tells her about Coin's message, and the morning meeting.
She looks between us when I stay quiet.
"And it took two of you to find me and tell me this?" Her voice is reserved, like she could be talking to two strangers, not the two people who could have a claim on her heart. But then again, maybe no one really has a claim on the girl on fire. At least not if she doesn't want them too. And right now she doesn't want either of us here, that much I can tell. She's scowling, and her shoulders are tense like she's bracing for a fight. But I heard the song, I heard the way she sang it. Longing, passion, an edge of desperation. Where does all that go when someone knocks on her door? Where does she hide it? I wish I could take lessons from her because I am failing miserably at it.
"Uh, Plutarch sent Peeta." Gale answers, filling the silence I have let grow in the room.
"What does he want?" She asks impatiently, her head dips to try to catch my eye as I stare down. When I see her face again I start talking, fast and in a rush to get all the words out so I can leave. I can't be here with her. I can't be in the same room with both of them right now. I need to leave.
"Ok." Is all she says after I explain. I nod, and turn to leave. If Gale wants to stay and try to ask her questions he can. I don't see the point. But then I hear his footsteps behind me, and the door closing.
We walked quietly back to the main hall. When we come to the hallway that branches off to our respective wings, we just go our separate ways. My guess is neither of us is going to be getting much sleep tonight. I get to my room and find Haymitch gone. Visiting Effie probably. Maybe he'll stay the night and I'll have the room to myself. I take out my painting supplies and get to work. I'm tired, exhausted really, but if I don't do something with these feelings they'll keep me awake all night. And then I think maybe that's what she was doing. Just getting them out, giving them a place to go so that they wouldn't rattle around in her head. Well, that would be interesting if that were the case.
I start with a sketch of the guitar in her lap, I draw the outline of her hands and have just finished sketching her pinkie nail when there's a knock on the door. I think maybe it's Haymitch and he forgot his key, but when I open the door it's her. For a moment I think maybe I've finally lost it, I must be seeing things. But then she peers around the room, and seeing no one else she steps inside and closes the door.
I don't say anything, I just stare at her. She doesn't say anything either.
"Were you listening? Outside the door?" She asks, her voice low, angry, and also slightly embarrassed? I study her. Her cheeks have a faint rosy tint, even though she's trying to stare me down. Yes, she's embarrassed. This girl who can eliminate the Capitol created monsters in the space of a heartbeat, who can stand up to presidents and tyrants and can turn a situation around with a word, a look.
But she's shy about her singing. I add it to the list of contradictory and sorely incomplete information I have compiled in my head that pertains to her.
"It wasn't planned. But you started singing and...I guess we both just froze." I say, not really knowing what she's doing here, what she wants me to say. She crosses her hands over her chest.
"It was an accident, ok? I really don't want to fight about this right now, it's late." I say, trying to get her to leave, because in the enclosed space I think I can smell her shampoo. It's not lemons, they don't have anything that frivolous in 13. But it is clean, and underneath the plain soap smell, there's the scent of her hair, her skin, taunting me. I close my eyes to shut her out. I can't do this right now. I can't pretend. If she doesn't leave, I will. I'm just about to make a break for it when I hear her walk over to my bunk and pick up the sketch pad. I sigh. Great. Just Great. I peek an eye open to see her reaction.
She's standing there, holding the drawing in her hands, studying it quietly.
"Do you always draw me?" She asks, her voice soft. Yes, always, I almost say. But then I get angry, because if she doesn't want people listening to her sing in doorways then she shouldn't go around picking up other people's sketchpads.
"Do you always sing about sleeping with one of us?" The question is angry, barely intelligible through my gritted teeth.
Her face snaps up to mine, blood rushes to her cheeks. I feel my breath quicken. Great.
"It wasn't about…" She trails off. More nonanswers. I really can't do this. I open my mouth to tell her to leave, she'll be pissed for days but I'll deal with the consequences later. It's either that or throw myself at her right here, right now.
"Gale's never touched me like that." She breathes the words, so very quietly I think I imagined them. But her eyes are wide and afraid, like she can't believe she said it out loud.
I draw in a ragged breath, the first deep oxygen filling one I've been able to since I heard her song. That song. Her words. She wants me as much as I want her. And I cross the room in two steps.
"Good." Is all I get out before I'm picking her up, my lips crush over hers, and I'm pressing her back to the wall. She moans in my mouth. I get hard the next instant. And then we're rushing, to pull each other's clothes off. She kisses my neck and I tangle my hand in her hair that's almost completely fallen out of its braid by now. She hooks one of her legs over my good one, so that I can grind myself against her. I reach down to pull off her underwear. Shit, the thought rises up through the fog of desire that's burning its way through me. I don't know if she's still taking the medicine her mother made. I've never tried to pull out before, but I've heard it can have mixed results. I have to tell her now before we get any farther. There's a half second of conflict that wars in me. But my brain wins out over my body and I break away from her lips long enough to tell her.
"It's ok, I still take it," She whispers, kissing along my jaw. Thank God. It's the last fully coherent thought I have for a while. The rest is filled with kissing her, putting my hands everywhere I've missed touching her in the past month. Even though it's been a while, I haven't forgotten. The things she likes, what drives her crazy. Because Joanna was right. I am good at paying attention, and the only girl I've ever wanted to pay attention to like this is Katniss.
After she comes against my hand I know she's ready. She's pulling down my boxers before I can and they pool at my feet. I shift my weight so I can kick them away. "Hurry" she pleads in my ear, breathless and sounding really turned on, and then I'm inside her.
It's a relief, being connected with her like this again. She gasps and I feel my entire body relax and muscles I didn't know I was even straining loosen up one by one. And then I'm moving and she's panting. Her feet don't quite reach the floor in this position, just her tiptoes, so I just hook my hands under both her legs and wrap them around the back of my hips. She isn't heavy, and with this new angle I don't think it's going to take long. She's biting down on my shoulder which always means she's close, and I am so grateful because I really don't think I'm going to last much longer. It feels like it's been a million years since we last did this.
She arches her back and I scrape my teeth against the soft skin of her earlobe. She gasps, says my name, and then she's coming again. I give in and follow her, so very grateful for tonight, for the song, for this.
Afterwards, we climbed into my bunk. I'm wrapping her in my plain cotton sheets, thinking about the long lost grey silk ones that must have burned up with my house when we escaped. I reach my arm across her to pull her in closer to me and she sighs. If she likes this so much why has she been fighting it? Why can't we just stay like this and be happy?
I'm about to ask her, but when I look down at her face she's already asleep. So I just kiss her softly, and do the same thing I did when she wandered into my arms on that cold night back in 12. I lay next to her and hope and pray that it doesn't end.