Real or Not Real
A few one shots of Katniss' and Peeta's life after the hunger games, this chapter is about their first kiss and ... since the games ended. Hope you enjoy!
The cold air swirled around me, making my breath visible in front of my face. It was the second winter since the Hunger Games have ended, and still my nights are plagued with visions of the dead. I wonder if my nights will ever be mine again, if the nightmares will ever end. I doubted it.
The forest was mostly unchanged, though it was a lot quieter since only I came here now. If I closed my eyes, I could picture him in front of me. 14 year old Gale looking back at me over his shoulder, a small smile on his face as the summer sun danced through his dark hair. But, opening my eyes I'm only greeted with harsh bare trees, they look as lonely as I feel.
My big house in the Victor Village stood strong after the bombs, so I still lived there. It was too big for me though, without my mother and without… Prim. Even after all this time, it still hurts to think of her. Haymitch still lived next door, and Peeta was still in the house next to him. He's done a lot of work on his home, it looked beautiful. Last spring he painted the whole house a pale shade of blue and added white window shutters. He built a large wrap around porch, it took him all summer to do it. I offered to help him finish it, but he declined. He told me it was because he wanted to do it himself, that it was a distraction for him, but I think it's because I'd only have messed it up somehow.
When he finished, he invited myself and Haymitch over for a cup of tea one warm evening and we sat on some chairs from the dining room and watched the sun go down. Sometime around 9pm Haymitch staggered home after adding plenty of alcohol to his tea, but we stayed there together till early hours of the morning. Barely talking, just enjoying the peace together.
The Primroses that Peeta planted outside grew beautiful during the spring, only a few more weeks of this harsh winter left before I got to see them again. I told Peeta as the primroses began dying earlier in the year, that I hated seeing them die off, that seeing them blooming outside always made me feel a bit better. He came over one day holding a large canvas that was covered with an old sheet so I couldn't see the painting. He banned me from the living room as he hung it up above the fireplace. When he finally revealed the painting to me, I almost started crying.
It was Prim, though I couldn't see her face, I knew it was her. Her blonde hair running down her back in ringlets. Her small frame was sitting facing away from me in a large field of primroses. She was wearing a light green dress, my favourite colour. Her hand cupped the flowers as her face stared away from me into the beautiful sunset ahead of her. It brought a tear to my eye, to see how beautiful he captured the scene. I wished I had seen Prim like this in real life.
"It must have taken you ages to do this." I said to him, tearing my eyes from the painting to look at him. He smiled down at me, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"Not that long. I'd do anything to make you smile, Katniss, even if it's just for a little while." He said it so softly, like he was almost embarrassed to admit it. I remembered something Haymitch said to me a long time ago, "You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him," and even now it still stands. Peeta, even after the games and the torture, is still the best of us.
I remember that was the first time I had wanted to kiss him since returning home. I wanted to kiss him for me, not for anyone else. Not for any cameras or to play a part in someone's games, but because I wanted to. I didn't kiss him though. If I ever kissed Peeta Mellark again I had to make sure it was something I truly wanted, not just a fleeting feeling. He deserved that.
A low rumble breaks out in the sky, followed by a flash of light that broke me from my day dream. Thunder and lightning, I hadn't been caught out in a thunderstorm for a long time. I sit there on the damp log as the rain starts pouring down on me so hard that it makes me wince. But I don't shy away from it, instead I look up and let it beat against my face. Thunder roars around me, but I don't move. It reminds me that I am alive.
I watch as the animals scurry away, returning to their dens. I let them, I've already caught enough meat for today. Greasy Sae will be happy when I take the half dozen squirrels and wild turkey to her recently built shack. It was a small place, there were a couple of tables and chairs there to sit and eat, but mainly it was a place for miners to grab a quick hot meal before returning back to work.
"You're mad sitting out here in this." I turned and found Peeta staring down at me, water running through his hair, down his face and falling to the floor. He looks slightly out of breath, like he had been running.
I give him a small shrug and stay where I am seated. "I like it, it's actually quite refreshing." I pause. "Why are you out here?" Another flash of light illuminates the darkening sky from the clouds and Peeta joins me on the log as the thunder rumbles through the trees.
"I got worried about you when i saw the thunderstorm, thought it might be a trigger to the bombs." He gave me a small smile. "I'm glad it isn't." He turns away from me, his head facing up to the sky letting the rain hit his face. I want to hug him, thank him for always thinking of me, for always worrying about me. But I don't. Instead we just sit and watch as the storm grows closer, the rain getting heavier. Suddenly, Peeta is on his feet, pulling me up with him.
"What are you doing?" I ask and can't help but giggle as he draws me close, entwining our hands while wrapping his other arm around me.
"This is something i've always wanted to do," He pauses and begins moving us in a slow circle, "Dance in the rain."
I laugh but I entertain him, moving in slow circles as the heavens continue to pour down on us. "I think you're the mad one." I say and smile up at him.
Two years ago when we toured the districts after winning the first hunger games, I remember we would get any opportunity we could to steal kisses and try and run away together, anything to make it appear we were madly in love. Now, staring up at him, I found it hard to remember why I had to force it at all. As we spun around, the world seemed to fade away. All worries, all memories and nightmares that plagued me during the day seemed so small now in his arms. I leaned in, resting my head against his wet chest. But I didn't care how wet we were, all I cared about at that moment was him.
He suddenly pulls us to a stop and pushes me away slightly, frowning down at me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he shakes his head slightly and steps away from me. "Let's go, we will get hyperthermia if we stay out in this." Then he heads off in the direction of the Victor's Village. I follow close behind, unsure on what to say.
What had crossed his mind? What was he thinking about?
The weather continued to get worse so we both began a quick jog home, trying to be careful not to slip in the muddy puddles that had started to form in the meadow. But, Peeta wasn't as observant as I was and slid in one, hurting his good ankle in the process. I knelt beside him, "How bad is it?" I ask, pulling up his trouser leg to examine the damage. No protruding bones, that's a good sign, but still doesn't mean there wasn't a broken bone inside. It was hard to see while the rain continued to pour and he was also covered in mud.
"It's fine, I'll be okay." Peeta said and got to his feet relatively easily for a man with a bad ankle and one metal leg. But it was obvious as he tried to put weight on it that it was anything but fine. I ducked my head under his arm, letting him put his weight on me. I could tell he tried to fight the pain and not put too much weight on me, which annoyed me slightly, he was stubborn when he wanted to be.
"Lean on me Peeta, I can handle it." I said and he did with a grimace, I was trying to remember what my mother had done, how to assess if a bone is broken or not. Swelling, bruising and tenderness? Those were the three main symptoms, right?
It takes us almost triple the time to get home as it normally would. With Peeta's ankle and the rain, everything was against us. Finally getting home, I got Peeta back to his house and sat down in one of the dining chairs that still sat on his front porch. He was shivering and trying to hold back the pain on his face, "Stay here, I'll get a towel." I say, but I was fairly positive he wouldn't be moving any time soon.
The inside of Peeta's house looked very similar to mine, blank, bare. It didn't represent the wonderful things he's done to the outside at all. I got a bunch of towels and began to make my way back to Peeta when I noticed one of the bedroom doors was slightly ajar, and a flicker of colour caught my eye as I walked past. I step inside and stare in wonder at his paintings.
Some paintings were just colours, a canvas mixed with all different shades of green, one with a mixture of green and orange all swirling together. But it was clear to see that I was everywhere, my hair in its usual braid as I walked through the colourful meadow towards the woods, my hunting gear over my shoulder. Me sat on his front porch steps, watching the world around me with a cup of tea in my hands, the steam rising up from it. There was one of me in the arena, holding out the nightlock berries to him, my eyes pleading for him to take them. A cold shiver runs through me as I turn and close the door behind me.
I decide to brew a cup of hot tea and take that outside to Peeta as well as the towels. I hand him the tea, "Drink, it'll help warm you up." I say as I begin to towel dry his hair. His shivering slows and eases with each sip of tea, really he needs to take his wet clothes off and get dry ones on but i feel myself blushing at the thought.
"What?" He says, his eyes on me.
"Hmm?" I say, resting the towel on his shoulders now.
"You're blushing." He points out and gently touches my cheek where now I'm sure they are the colour of tomatoes. I quickly look away from him and down to his ankle.
"Oh, ugh, nothing. Can I have a look at your ankle?" I begin to undo his boots laces before he has time to protest. I'm sure he wanted to press me until he got an answer. But he didn't.
Examining his ankle, I couldn't see any clear signs of a break. There was tenderness there of course, but no bruising I could see or swelling yet. I dragged the other chair to him and sat down and lifted his foot up to rest on my leg. "You want to keep it elevated, make sure the swelling stays down. But I can't see any signs of it being broken yet, not without an x-ray anyway."
"Okay, thank you." He says and gives me a little smile. I found myself rubbing his ankle without thinking about it, as we both stared out at the rain. The thunder and lightning was easing off now, the dark clouds brightening as the storm passed away. After some time had passed and the rain was now stopping, I helped him inside and up the stairs to get changed, but I quickly stepped out to let him do that alone.
I'm back inside his art room before I realise what I'm doing, staring down at myself as I hand him the nightlock berries on the canvas. They looked so bright and colourful in my pale hands, not like they would kill you instantly. It's crazy to me that this act was what really started the uprising.
"What do you think?" He asks as he steps inside, his clothes still wet. "You're still my muse, even after all this time." He says, and I think back to the train ride where I saw all his art before, even then almost every painting was of me.
"Well, I don't hate all of these ones." I say and smile at him. He comes up behind me, and pulls the hair tie from my braid, running his fingers through the wet hair letting it come free.
"Why, what's different about these ones?" He asks, his hand still running through my wet hair, untangling it.
"The ones before were just me in the games," I say and the walk to the one of me sat on his porch staring out at the world. "On this one, I look content, happy, almost…" I pause, looking hard at myself trying to find the right word.
"Beautiful?" He finishes.
I shake my head, "No, not beautiful…" Not with my scared face and burnt arms, not with my eyes and heart that had seen and been through too much.
"But you are beautiful." He says and makes me look at him, "I wish you could see what I see."
"What? Burns and scars?" I say and shake my head at him.
"You don't see it do you?" He pauses and brushes some of my hair over my shoulder, "You really are the most beautiful woman i have ever seen." He says it so softly that I barely hear him. I find my breath getting stuck in my throat as I stare up at him, his eyes so full of love and yearning. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me like that, like I was everything.
Slowly, I reach up, tangling my hand in his hair, bringing him to me. I kiss him gently at first, letting my lips mould to him. His lips felt just like I remember, soft and gentle. Shock seems to fade and slowly he kisses me back. He deepens the kiss and he tastes just like I remember. His hair was still damp, I found myself gripping him tighter, pulling him close to me. My backs pushed against the wall, I heard something crashing to the floor next to me but neither of us cares. Both of our breath gets tangled up in a warm mess as his whole body pushes into me, slightly curing that ache I feel to have him all around me. I feel him everywhere, his hand in my hair, caressing my cheek. I try to hold back the moan that escapes my lips as he pushes his hips into mine. Why haven't we ever kissed like this before?
I grip his wet top, pulling it over his head and run my hands along his chest. My fingers linger on each scare or burn they pass, sometimes I forget that he is just as damaged, if not more damaged than I am. I unzip my jacket, my lips never leaving his. His hands make quick work on my blouse and pull it off my shoulders, letting it hit the floor. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me out of the room, kissing my neck which makes tingles run down my spine and legs.
He drops me into the softness of his bed and begins to pull off my boots. "Your ankle seems to be doing a lot better." I say and sit up once my boots are off, then I slowly start to undo his trousers.
He gives me a little laugh and leans forward, kissing me again before moving down my body, spending extra time kissing my neck and breasts, kissing each scar he passes and finally reaching my trousers. I shimmy them off and am fascinated that I don't feel embarrassed at all as we lie here completely naked together.
We kiss and touch each other for a long time, exploring each other like we never had before. As he leans over me, he suddenly pulls back and looks down at me. There was still a bit of daylight left outside, enough for me to make out the seriousness in his face as he asks me. "You love me, real or not real?"
And as I look up at him, I caress his cheek before pulling him to me. "Real." I say against his lips and let myself get lost.