Chapter Forty-Six: When Tomorrow Comes
"And I'm learning, so I'm leaving And even though I'm grieving I'm trying to find the meaning Let loss reveal it"
—'St. Jude' Florence + The Machine
I finish cleaning myself up once the tears subside, then move to the sink to wash my face and rebraid my hair. It's kind of a pointless endeavor, seeing as how it's going right back under a cap when we leave, but it provides more time for the red patches to fade from my cheeks and the puffiness to leave my eyes. I don't want Peeta to know I'd been crying; I don't want him to think it had anything to do with what we just did. Of all the things I've done in my life, giving my virginity to him is one thing I'll never regret.
As I look in the mirror, I find it sort of strange how my reflection is both the same as it's always been, yet entirely different. I used to look at myself and see someone who was terrified, a girl who had no hope for the future and was merely surviving to keep others alive. I'm still worried about what the future holds, but now I see a woman who has hope and everything to live for.
I never would have predicted that an exhausting summer trek to sell blackberries to Mr. Mellark could've led to where I am now. It makes me wonder where I'd be had I not decided to go that day. Everything has changed so much in such a short amount of time, and it's about to change even more. I've lived in this town my entire life, and I've never been out of the state.
I have no idea at all what to expect after I leave here. How will it feel to be in a place I don't know, living under someone else's roof and rules? How will Prim adjust to it all? She's never known a real parent, let alone grandparents. I know it can't be worse than what we came from, but the uncertainty of the situation makes me anxious.
I grip the edge of the sink, close my eyes, and take a few deep breaths to collect myself. After a minute or two, I finally open the door and make my way to the bedroom again.
Peeta's already fully dressed, his back towards me as he places the finishing touches on making the bed. He must have heard me come into the room, because he begins talking as soon as I enter.
"I texted Dad to see how everything was going. Apparently, Prim is putting him to shame at some game-" He stops mid-sentence, the grin on his face faltering as he turns to look at me. I'm guessing I didn't do a good enough job at hiding that I'd been crying, because in one quick stride his arms are around me. I thought the tears were gone, but more immediately begin to well in my eyes.
"Did I hurt you?" he asks quietly, pulling back to look at me. I shake my head, but I don't trust my voice enough to speak.
He runs a thumb over my cheek to remove a tear, and I promptly wipe my face with both hands to dry it completely. Crying isn't going to solve anything, and I definitely don't want to spend what little time I have left with him grieving over things that can't be changed.
His eyes are still fixed on me in concern, so I take a deep breath and answer as evenly as I can. "It... it has nothing to do with that, okay? I'm fine. I'm just..." My voice catches in my throat, but I manage to choke out, "Everything's just changing too fast."
I move past him to sit down on the bed, and he follows, taking my hands in his.
"I'm washing the sheets, so if you want to talk about it, we have plenty of time," he says, rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles.
I close my eyes and give a short, cynical laugh. "I wish we had 'plenty of time'."
"Well, we have time for now. And sooner than you think, we'll have all the time in the world. Sure, it'll take some time to get there, but when we do, it's going to be worth it. Things will be better. We'll have a brand new life together, a fresh start - a happy one."
"It's just going to be a little scary... moving off to a place I don't know, with people who are basically strangers. And you. What if something happens while I'm gone? I'll never forgive myself—"
He cuts me off by placing a hand on my shoulder and shaking his head.
"Nothing is going to happen to me. And even if by some chance it did, it wouldn't be your fault."
"It would be my fault," I counter. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be in the middle of any of this. You'd be living a normal life, going to school and running the bakery as usual."
He furrows his brow and frowns, giving me a look that says he disagrees with me. I know I'm right, regardless of what he thinks, though. If we hadn't began dating, he wouldn't be in this mess; he wouldn't know anything about it. With the exception of his mother, his life would be completely conflict-free. There's no turning things back now, and I'd never change what we've found together… but I can't help feeling guilty for complicating everything.
"Katniss, I'm in 'the middle of this' because it's where I belong. We're in this together, for better or for worse," he replies, bringing an arm around my shoulder. I lean my head against him as he continues. "I remember a few years ago, we had this really big storm. It left so much wreckage; there were trees and branches all in the road and the power was out for half the town for a couple days—"
"I think I remember that," I whisper, recalling a powerful storm that hit our town a few summers ago. Prim and I had huddled together beneath the trailer, afraid that the wind would rip the roof off or blow it over onto its side. I can't help wondering why in the world he's suddenly talking about an old storm. However, he's speaking in such an assured tone that I know he has some sort of point, so I keep listening.
"Then I'm sure you remember how scary it was," he says, his hand caressing my upper arm. "The sky was dark as night in the middle of the day. But... after the storm passed and the sun finally peeked out through the clouds, everything was brighter than I'd ever seen it before. And there was this double rainbow. I remember wondering how a thing so beautiful could come from something so horrific. I took a picture, hoping to paint it later - and I tried to, dozens of times, but I could never get it quite right. There was just something about seeing it in person - I couldn't capture the emotion of it with simple paint."
He kisses my forehead and threads his fingers with mine.
"Just like that storm, I think that once all this finally blows over, after we pick up the pieces left in the aftermath, life will be brighter and more beautiful than we can even imagine."
"I hope you're right," I reply. "I hope everything turns out that way. I just can't help worrying that something bad will happen like it always does. I don't know what to expect from here on out, and it's scary."
He places a kiss to the top of my head, then rests his cheek upon it. "I wish I could give you all the answers. All I can say is, keep hoping... because I have a feeling this will all turn out okay. My dad wouldn't have let you go without a fight if he thought your grandparents would mistreat you in any way. As for me - I'll be fine, and I'll be with you at the first opportunity."
"It'll still be months," I say quietly. "We'll be apart longer than we've been dating. We haven't been together very long, yet it feels like forever. How will it feel when we're away from each other?"
"Oh, I'm sure it'll feel like an eternity. But can you imagine what it'll be like when we finally see each other again? When we know things are definite and we'll never have to be apart again? It'll be amazing. Plus, like I told you before, it's not as if we won't keep in contact. I'll probably be pretty annoying with how much I'll be calling and texting you. And I should also warn you, you'll be completely overrun with baked goods," Peeta says with a quiet chuckle.
His voice then softens to a near whisper as he continues, "I'm glad we had tonight, Katniss. It was perfect in every way. It'll be one of the things that keeps me going until I'm finally with you. And then we can experience it all over again, again and again, as much as we want, whenever we want."
His words send a shiver through me. What would it be like to have that sort of freedom, to give each other pleasure anytime we felt like it? How will it feel to get to that point, when being intimate with Peeta is an ordinary, regular occurrence? It seems almost too surreal to imagine.
"Well, we will have months to make up for," I remark shakily.
"Ah. Sounds like we won't be leaving the bed for at least a week then," he states, his lips curving into a grin. A snort escapes me as I lean back to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Okay. Maybe a couple of days?" he shrugs, giving a small laugh.
I don't even know how to reply to that, so I simply lean up and bring my lips to his. He groans against my mouth, and soon we're lost in each other again. I find myself lying back on the bed, with Peeta half beside me, half on top of me, his hands caressing my thighs, hips, stomach, and finally my breasts.
"We'd better stop," he murmurs breathlessly, his lips only an inch from mine. "If we don't, I'll have to wash these sheets, too. It'd be totally worth it, don't get me wrong, but Dad might get a little worried if we're out till daybreak, and it's already late as it is."
I nod, giving him one last peck on the mouth, before getting up to put the rest of my clothes on.
We continue to talk about our hopes for the future, of getting through everything and finally being together, until the sheets are washed and dried. We then replace and dispose of all the things we brought to our picnic on the roof earlier, lock up the bakery, and begin driving back to the apartment.
Although my eyes are full of tears, I can't help but smile as I stare up at the roof from the backseat of the car. Unexpected and beautiful, tonight will be something I'll cherish forever. Whatever happens from here on out, at least no one can ever take it from us.
As we walk into the apartment, I notice everything is dark besides the flickering of the TV. No sooner do I take the cap from my head and remove my jacket, when Mr. Mellark stands up from the couch and walks over to us with an exasperated look on his face, looking as if we've just woken him up.
"Do you have any idea how late it is?" he whispers sternly.
My eyes widen as I glance at the clock on the wall; it's a little after 2 in the morning. The night had gone by so quickly, I had no idea it was so late. Slightly panicked, I look over at Peeta to answer his dad. It was his idea to go out, after all.
I'm surprised that he doesn't looked fazed at all. He simply answers, "It's one of the last nights we'll have together, so of course we were out a little late. Sorry if I made you worry, but I did text and we are home now, so..."
Mr. Mellark gives Peeta a disapproving look before rubbing his eyes and releasing a loud breath. "I was hesitant to let you go at all. Having her out for so long was completely irresponsible. Especially since I know you went into town, instead of a movie like you said you were going to."
"We didn't—" Peeta begins to object.
"You did," his dad cuts him off, raising his eyebrows knowingly. "I installed motion detecting cameras in the bakery. They alert my phone whenever they're activated. I saw you pull up, go in-"
"Why didn't you say that when you texted?" Peeta asks indignantly, and then his eyes widen as he has the same horrid thought as I do. If he put one in the bedroom, I'll probably die of embarrassment. "Wait. I thought you only put cameras on the outside of the bakery? Where the hell else did you put them?"
I drop my gaze to the floor, my face heating up. If Mr. Mellark didn't already know what we'd been up to tonight, from the defensiveness in Peeta's voice, I'm sure he has some idea now.
"I knew you were safe, so I thought I'd let you enjoy your time. However, I didn't think you'd take advantage of my generosity," Mr. Mellark answers quietly, an edge to his tone. "As for the cameras, I put two inside - one in the front room and the other in the back room, pointed at the doors. I don't know what you were doing there so late, but I have a pretty good idea."
"All we did was have a picnic on the roof," Peeta asserts, crossing his arms. "We just wanted to be alone and talk for a while."
"Mmhmm," Mr. Mellark deadpans, not sounding convinced at all. "Look, it's late. I can barely keep my eyes open right now, and Prim fell asleep about an hour ago worrying about you guys. It's been a long evening, so I'm not going to say anything more about it. Just... go to bed, okay? We all have a lot to prepare for tomorrow."
Peeta and I say nothing more as we hastily make our way to his bedroom. Once inside, I sit on his bed as he opens a drawer to retrieve his pajamas.
"Well, that was embarrassing," I mumble.
"At least he didn't ask about it or try to give us a lecture."
"I'm pretty sure he knows what we did, though. And we were on his bed..." I groan and cover my face with my hands.
"So? I washed the sheets. And it's not like I'm ashamed of it. Besides, we're engaged now. If people don't know by that alone, they're going to figure it out when we're married, you know," Peeta replies with a short chuckle, closing his drawer and turning to me.
My stomach twists at the sudden realization of this. Sex is a normal part of being a couple, and of course when it comes to marriage, so I'm aware people are going to eventually know, without a doubt, that we're having it.
This sort of intimacy is completely new to me, though, and right now it's like a naughty little secret between the two of us. How will I get used to the fact that, eventually, it'll be public knowledge?
It's not something I have to deal with right now, I quickly remind myself. Besides, compared to everything else, it's not that important. And it's not like we're going to stop anyway.
"I'm not ashamed of what we did either, and I know people will know about it eventually. It doesn't mean I want your dad to know. It's... awkward," I reply, frowning.
"Katniss, it really doesn't matter if he knows. Need I remind you that he thought he got my mom pregnant when he was my age and married her because of it? He wasn't a saint when he was younger, so he has no right to judge. At least we were safe about it and we love each other. In any case, I doubt he's at all surprised," Peeta states, then adds, "But if it makes you feel any better, you won't have to deal with it after tomorrow."
I narrow my eyes at him, feeling indignant that he'd so carelessly throw that out there.
"Of course that doesn't make me feel better! Given the choice, I'd tell him every detail of what we did rather than have to leave you."
Chagrined, Peeta quickly closes the distance between us and brings his hands to the sides of my face. He then leans down to place a kiss upon the top of my head.
"I shouldn't have said that," he says. "I'm sorry."
"It's... fine," I dismiss quietly. It's not like I'm looking for an argument, after all, and I know Peeta didn't mean for his words to hurt me. With a tired sigh, I stand up. "Anyways, I'm going to say goodnight to Prim and let you change."
He nods before leaning in and pressing his lips gently to mine.
Prim is still sound asleep on the couch, tucked comfortably under a blanket. Mr. Mellark must have turned the TV off and gone to bed shortly after we went to Peeta's bedroom, because every light has been turned off and the apartment is completely silent.
I sit down on the edge of the couch beside Prim and flip a lamp on. As soon as I do, Prim's eyes flutter open in confusion, then widen once she notices me.
"You're back," she croaks drowsily. "What took you so long? I was really worried..."
"Sorry," I reply. "We lost track of time, I guess. Had a lot to talk about. I just wanted to wake you to say goodnight and that we're fine. Mr. Mellark said you were worrying about us earlier."
"What did you guys talk about for so long?"
I shrug, combing my fingers through her hair. "A lot of things. I'll tell you when you're more awake, okay?"
She looks at me as if she wants to know everything now, but reluctantly nods. I lean down to kiss her forehead, and tell her goodnight. However, as I brush her cheek with my hand and lean back up, she turns her head abruptly and pulls back as if I'd burned her. I'm about to ask what's wrong when she takes my hand in hers, turns it around, and looks up at me with wide, curious eyes. My heart quickens as I await for her to say something.
"You're wearing Mom's wedding ring," Prim states, but it's more of a question. I nod, and she quickly sits up, studying my face. "Where's Dad's...?"
"On Peeta's finger," I answer with a sheepish smile. "We're, um... we're kind of engaged now?"
Her mouth drops open for a moment, and before I have time to react, her arms wrap around my neck in a bear hug. I embrace her in return with a quiet laugh.
"Oh my god! I'm so happy for you!" she gushes, pulling back with a huge grin on her face. "You and Peeta are so perfect for each other! I knew it from the start. How did it happen? How did he ask you? What did he say when you gave him the ring? You have to tell me everything now! I can't wait until tomorrow to hear it all."
I gaze down at the ring, smiling faintly as I touch it with a fingertip. I can hardly register all that happened tonight, let alone imagine a peaceful future with Peeta as my husband. Only a couple months ago, getting married, let alone dating, wasn't something I ever considered a possibility. I can't help feeling as if something will prevent it from becoming reality. Still, just the idea of it, the wishful intention, is something worth hoping for.
"I asked him, actually," I say with a shrug of my shoulder. "I, uh, guess what you said earlier stuck with me. And I'm sure you know what his answer was."
I look at her and see that she has tears in her eyes. After all the crying she'd done earlier in the day, it's a welcome sight to see tears coming from happiness rather than fear.
"Wow, Katniss. I never thought you would..." she trails off, giving a stunned laugh. She quickly hugs me again, trembling in my arms. "I'm glad you did something for yourself. You deserve to be happy. And Peeta does, too."
"We all do," I reply. "Hopefully someday we will be. Once we get through all this."
She sits back on the couch and stares up at the ceiling, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she bites her lip. I can tell it just hit her again that we're leaving the day after tomorrow, as half the excitement seems to have zapped out of her in an instant.
"So... are you moving back here," she inquires, "or is Peeta coming to stay with you?"
"He'll be coming to stay with me, as soon as he's able," I answer. "It might take a few months, but hopefully not long."
She nods, her face relaxing a bit. From the way her brow is furrowed I know she's concerned about something else, though.
"But... what about the bakery?" she asks slowly.
I sigh and rub my eyes, feeling guilt tearing at my insides again. "Peeta said he'll talk to his dad about it, but his plan is to move away and maybe start a new one where we're going. I asked him if that's what he really wanted, to give up the bakery and his life here, and he said that it was. I hate that it has to come to that, but..." I shrug and heave another sigh.
Prim reaches over and places her hand upon mine.
"If he said that's what he wanted, then I'm sure it is. It sucks about the bakery, but at least he'll be getting away from here. And it says a lot about how much he loves you, to change his entire life to be with you," she states quietly. "I just hope Mr. Mellark will be okay."
"Me too," I reply, "but I can't make everyone happy." I can barely do that for myself.
Besides, for all the nice things he's done for us, Mr. Mellark is also a big contributing factor as to why we're leaving so soon. He seems to know how strongly Peeta and I feel for each other, so surely, on some level, he should expect something like this to happen. I feel horrible about the bakery, but I only feel relief at the thought of Peeta finally leaving this place. If I had my way, I'd move everyone I care for out of this hellhole of a town. This is no place for good people.
I slip out of my pants, keeping on the t-shirt that Peeta had given me to wear tonight, then make my way from the bathroom to the bedroom. When I enter, I see that the light is off and Peeta's already beneath the covers.
He lifts them as soon as I'm near and I snuggle against his chest as he covers us and brings his arms around me. He rubs my back as I listen to the drumming of his heart, my eyes closed to stop tears from falling from them. I can't fully appreciate our closeness while thoughts of losing him permeate my mind. I hate leaving him, but knowing that Snow is still out there, I fear much worse things than distance.
"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Peeta asks after a few minutes of silence. "I figured we should do something, with it being the last full day we'll have together for a while."
I shrug, not knowing how to answer and not daring myself to speak.
"Maybe I could make some blackberry tarts for old time's sake?" he offers wistfully.
"No. No cooking, okay? We'll find something to do... but no work tomorrow. I just... want to be together with you and Prim all day."
"Okay," he agrees. "Katniss...?"
"Hmmm?"
He kisses the top of my head, then whispers, "You don't have any regrets about tonight, do you?"
Taken aback, I lift my head and look at him.
"No. Why? Do you?"
He shakes his head, but the uncertainty in his eyes makes my stomach twist into knots.
"No, of course not. Tonight was like a dream for me. It's just, after we were done, you kind of had this look on your face... like you weren't happy. And then you came back in tears, talking about things changing too fast. So I was just wondering..."
I give him a small smile, then lean in and bring my lips to his. When we part, I reassure him, "I have no regrets when it comes to you. Tonight was the happiest I've been in a long time. It's everything else that has me worried."
He nods, looking relieved at my answer, and I lay my head back down on his chest.
"You know, it's pretty amazing how far we've come in such a short time," he muses. "Just imagine where we'll be 5, 10, or 15 years from now."
I don't know how to reply, so I simply tighten my arm around his chest. It's impossible imagining anything so far into the future when I have no idea what next week even holds. I have no doubt things will change drastically in the years to come, but how they will change is still a big question mark.
Neither of us say another word, and soon I can tell by his slow, steady breathing that he's fallen asleep. My eyes and body are both tired, but my mind is running in all directions. I lie awake for a good hour or so before finally drifting off into a dreamless slumber.
I wake the next morning to find Peeta no longer beside me.
I'm usually a very light sleeper, but I didn't even feel him leave. Judging by the bright sunlight pouring into the room, I assume it's late in the morning. He probably woke early, as he usually does, and didn't want to wake me. Still, I can't help feeling a little disappointed. Today, every second counts and I don't want to take a single one for granted. Plus, it would've been nice to wake in his arms.
I sit up in an instant, throwing the covers off, and proceed into the living room to find him.
My heart calms when I spot him sitting on the couch with Prim, petting the cat and laughing about something. They both look at me as I walk towards them, their expressions bittersweet. They smile in greeting, but it doesn't quite meet their eyes. Our impending separation hovers like a black cloud, and I know that no matter what we do today, no matter how many smiles and laughs we share, it'll continue to linger.
"Good morning," Peeta says as I sit next to him. He brings an arm around my shoulders and kisses my forehead. I glance over at Prim to see her biting her lip to keep from grinning, her eyes averted from us as she pets the cat in her lap.
"Why didn't you wake me?" I ask, my voice hoarse from sleep. "What time is it, anyway?"
"Almost noon," Prim answers.
My eyes widen at realizing I've slept half the day away.
"You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to wake you," Peeta shrugs. "Dad woke me earlier to tell me he was going to the store and asked if I needed anything. I couldn't go back to sleep after that, so I came in here and spent some time with Prim."
"I wish you would've woken me," I reply, frowning. "I feel like I've already wasted half the day."
"You needed the rest. Besides, all we did was watch cartoons and spoil the cat a bit. You didn't miss much," Peeta reassures me with a smile. "Dad's picking you guys up a few things, by the way, like suitcases and coats. Apparently your grandma said it was pretty cold there already and didn't want you to freeze when you get there."
Prim and I exchange matching looks of anxiety at the casual mention of our departure tomorrow. I attempt a feeble smile, trying to convince her that everything will be all right, even though I feel entirely uncertain of it. She bites her lip and looks down at the cat again.
I rub my eyes and sigh before replying, "That's nice of him, Peeta, but he really doesn't have to do all that. I mean, the things Prim and I have together aren't enough to fill one suitcase, let alone two. And we have jackets..."
"Yeah, but you need something warm for the winter, and the jackets you have are paper thin," Peeta counters. "As for the suitcases, it's better to have more room than you need than not enough."
I'd argue, but I know he's right. I could always wear my father's coat, which is a lot heavier than my normal jacket, but it's at least three sizes bigger than me. Prim's jacket barely fits her anymore, and the zipper broke a long time ago. While it's still a bit difficult to accept charity from people, the gift of winter coats is certainly something we need. Besides, what's done is done - it's not as if Peeta or his dad would take them back anyway.
"Peeta's going to take care of Buttercup until he moves to be with us," Prim informs me before I have a chance to say anything else. "I wasn't sure if grandma and grandpa would be okay with us bringing a pet along, but at least I know he'll be taken care of while I'm away."
I frown, telling from the tone of her voice that she's holding back tears.
"Believe me, the cat will be spoiled rotten. He definitely picked the right dumpster to scavenge," Peeta says, reaching over to scratch the purring cat between its ears. "I wager he'll gain a few pounds by the next time you meet."
"I hope it'll be soon," Prim replies quietly. "I'm going to miss you both a whole lot." Peeta brings his other arm around her shoulders and gives us both a half-hug.
"I think it goes without saying that I'll miss you both, too. More than words can say. And as soon as I can be, I'll be with you. That's a promise," he proclaims. "Until then, I know you both will be strong for each other, just as you've always been. I know you're nervous about everything changing so quickly, but trust me, life is going to be so much better. It'll be brand new."
Soon after, Peeta insists we all eat something, so we find ourselves in the kitchen. He abides by what I said last night and doesn't cook; instead we have sandwiches. I don't have much of an appetite, but I manage to eat at least one.
The silence between us is heavy, and I know they're both feeling the same way I am. Talking about it at this point seems redundant; it's like we keep going in circles trying to comfort each other. This is our last full day together for a long time, and it feels as if we should be doing something grand to make the most of it, yet there isn't much we can do besides wait and worry.
The clock on the wall is louder than ever, each tick reminding me that I'm one second closer to leaving. It's like looking at autumn leaves falling, knowing winter will soon approach with its hunger and freezing misery. I always feel like I need to do something - anything - to stop it, but its arrival is inevitable and the only thing I can do is wait it out till spring.
To rid my mind of negative thoughts, I try to imagine the good that might come from all this. Perhaps our grandparents will be wonderful . After all, they did raise my father, and I've never heard one bad thing about them. Wouldn't it be great if Prim finally got to know what a loving family was like, aside from me?
Stability and a lack of stress would also be a nice change. I mean, I'm sure adjusting in and of itself will be stressful, but in a different way. At least I won't awaken everyday wondering where our next meal will come from or if Snow will take his rage out on us. I'll still worry about him being free, though. I doubt he'll come to find us, since we'll be so far away, but leaving Peeta and Mr. Mellark behind terrifies me.
I'm brought out of my thoughts as Peeta gets a text and promptly replies. Before he can tell me who it's from, I ask, "Any news from Haymitch?"
Peeta shakes his head.
"No. It was just Dad saying he's on his way back. I talked to Haymitch earlier, though. He didn't have anything new to say. Sorry."
I shrug, trying my best to hide the disappointment from showing on my face. There are only so many places in this town for Snow to hide; why haven't they found him yet? Are they even trying?
"They'll find him, Katniss," Peeta asserts, as if reading my mind. "They will, and I won't let it drop until they do. Even if I have to badger them multiple times a day with calls. He'll pay for what he's done."
"I don't want you getting any more involved with this when I leave," I reply staunchly. "I just want you to lay low. Getting information from Haymitch is one thing, but I don't want you getting directly involved. There might be someone still connected to Snow at the police station, and I don't want them tracing anything back to you, okay?"
Peeta chews on his bottom lip, his brow furrowed in thought, before finally nodding.
"Fine. I don't want you to worry any more than you're going to. I'll just have Haymitch badger them multiple times a day with phone calls, then," he says, shrugging. "In any case, it'll be a day to celebrate when I get to call you with the news of his capture."
Prim's eyes widen in agreement as she nods her head vigorously.
Mr. Mellark arrives just as we're putting away the leftovers from lunch.
There's a pit in my stomach as he sits down on the sofa and gestures for us to take a seat as well. Prim takes her place beside him, and Peeta and I sit next to each other on the loveseat. I see the large, black suitcases he bought us leaning against the far wall of the living room.
He smiles as he hands two big shopping bags to me and Prim. She wastes no time looking inside hers, giving a loud gasp of delighted surprise as she does so. I hesitate, about to tell Mr. Mellark that he didn't have to buy us anything, but he holds up a hand and shakes his head.
"It's the least I could do, and it's all things you're going to need," he tells me. Though I still feel weird accepting gifts, I don't want to be rude either. I close my eyes and release a deep breath as I finally open the bag.
My mouth drops open as I lift out a thick winter coat. It's dark green, and the hood and insides are lined with warm, white fur. I'm too overwhelmed to speak. I haven't had a new coat since I was eleven or twelve, and the gratitude I feel is too strong to put into words. I hold it tightly to my chest, and take a deep breath to relieve the lump in my throat.
"I, uh, hope you like it. I'm not used to shopping for girls, but Peeta told me you liked that color," Mr. Mellark says.
I nod quickly, opening my eyes again to see Prim grinning as she puts on her own coat. It's exactly like mine, except in a shade of muted pink.
I'm wary of speaking, because I know I'll probably start sobbing if I do, but I manage to whisper, "It's... it's perfect. I don't even know what to say. I love it. Thank you."
"No need to thank me, Miss Katniss—" He doesn't get to complete his sentence because Prim gives him a quick hug, which he returns without hesitation.
Peeta rubs my back and smiles brightly as he tells me, "Try it on."
I nod and promptly do just that. I'm surprised to find that it fits perfectly. It's so soft and comfortable, I never want to take it off.
I keep it on as I glance down into the bag again. The coat was more than enough to be thankful for, so when I find a white cap, a scarf, and mittens to match it, I can't help the tears that begin streaming from my eyes.
I then pull out a pack of new socks; it's such a little thing, but I've been making the socks I have last for years. Needless to say, they all have multiple holes in them and have long since lost any semblance of whiteness. My hands are trembling, and my heart feels incredibly full. I just keep repeating 'thank you' over and over again, unable to find anything more adequate to express the depth of how much all this means to me.
Last but not least, I pull out a shoebox. As I lift the lid, I find a pair of brown winter boots. Peeta must have told his dad my shoe size, because they fit perfectly. Prim has the same exact pair, except in her size. Again, I'm completely overwhelmed. I haven't had a new pair of shoes in what seems like forever.
Gale sometimes gave us thrift shop throwaways, and there was usually a reason they were found in the garbage, be it missing soles or holes. Whenever I happened to buy myself a pair, they were always the cheapest ones I could find. I didn't worry about things like warmth or quality - I just needed something on my feet.
Winter has always been a season I've dreaded, but having these things makes me look forward to it. Maybe this year, Prim and I can actually have fun in the snow together; it's been ages since we did that. Before, the prospect of snow was terrifying. The trailer was always cold, no matter if I kept the stove going. The thinness of the walls and the many holes throughout did little to keep the place warm. Going out into the snow made our jackets wet, which meant that was one more layer we couldn't wear to bed, and the slush would seep into our shoes and freeze our feet.
With these gifts, I don't have to worry about such things anymore, and the peace of mind it brings means the world to me.
Much to Peeta's annoyance, Mr. Mellark leaves again to work on some things at the bakery. Peeta says it's just an excuse to stay away for the day because he doesn't want to feel guilty about us having to leave tomorrow. Whatever the reason, I'm relieved about it. I still feel slightly awkward about last night, as well as guilty that Peeta will eventually be telling him he's giving up the bakery. With all that he's just given to us, that feeling of guilt is intensified.
It's an odd, melancholic day to say the least, and it's going way too fast. It's funny how when you want time to go fast, it moves slower than molasses, but when you want to freeze it, it seems to pass at triple speed.
Worst of all, there isn't much we can do to honor the significance of it being our last day together. Whatever we do, it just seems like we're wasting time. We spend the evening playing board games as animated movies play in the background. We try our best to pretend as if everything is normal, but it's apparent we're all just going through the motions. Our smiles and laughs are tinged with hollowness, and every so often one of us will excuse ourselves to the bathroom and come back with red, puffy eyes.
Far too soon, night falls, and it's time to begin packing. Peeta and I help Prim fold what little she has to put into her suitcase. It barely even gets filled halfway, and only takes us a few minutes. Mr. Mellark comes back around 7, but doesn't say much. He goes to the kitchen to eat something before retreating to the bedroom that Mom used to sleep in, closing the door behind him.
It's a little past 8 when Prim begins yawning and decides to go to sleep. I tell her she can sleep with me and Peeta tonight if she wants to, just so she doesn't feel alone, but she shakes her head and says she's fine. I'm not sure I believe her, but I don't argue. After tucking her in and exchanging goodnights, I make my way to Peeta's room.
He's already changed into his pajamas, and I notice his painting lies on the bed next to my open suitcase. Before I can say anything, he turns to me with a smile.
"I, uh, want you to take my painting with you. Just so you can remember the times we've spent together by the lake," he says. "I know those were some of my favorite moments. It's not finished yet, but I figured I could complete it when I'm finally with you again."
I walk over to him and stare down at the painting.
"I don't need a painting to help me remember something I'll never forget," I reply. Peeta wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder. I bring my hands up to cover his. "I love it, though. It's beautiful. I'll hang it in a place where I can see it all the time. Thank you."
He kisses my shoulder, then murmurs near my ear, "I also have something else for you."
With that, he moves to his dresser.
I roll my eyes with a smile and groan as I place the painting into the suitcase.
"Seriously? You've already given me more than I need or could ever want. You don't have to give me anything else."
"Oh, but I do. And I will," he counters with a small chuckle, then makes his way over to me with a blue velvet box.
He sits down on the bed and pats the space next to him. As I take a seat beside him, he opens the box and hands it to me. My eyes widen as I see what's inside. It's too much. It must have cost him a fortune, and I definitely don't deserve a thing so extravagant and beautiful.
It's a long, silver necklace with a heart-shaped locket at the end of it. In the center of the heart, there's a single grey pearl. I'm speechless as I touch it with my fingertips.
"I bought this years ago. Took me a while to save up for it. I intended to give to my mom on her birthday, but I decided against it when the time came. She didn't deserve it, and I knew she wouldn't have appreciated it. So I saved it, hoping I'd find someone worth giving it to. I knew you were that person from the very start, but I wanted to give it to you on a special occasion," Peeta explains as he extracts the necklace from the box.
He opens the locket, showing me a picture of Prim he's placed inside of it.
"This is to remind you of what's most important. Things might be hard for the next several months, but it's not without good reason. Prim needs you to be strong for her. She looks up to you more than you know. She feels what you feel, and I want you both to be happy. I want you to make the most of your new life."
"Peeta..." My breath catches in my chest, cutting me short. "This is way too much. I appreciate the sentiment and it's really beautiful, but it must have cost you a fortune-"
"It doesn't matter how much it costs. You're priceless to me, and if I had to spend every last penny I had to make you happy, I would. Besides, this has been sitting in my drawer for years. I can't exactly take it back, not that I would," he winks, reaching over and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I just wish I had something amazing to give you in return," I mumble.
He arches an eyebrow. "Um, what you gave me last night was the most precious gift I've ever received."
My face heats up as I counter, "Well, that was kind of a mutual gift... so it kind of cancels out."
"No way. It just makes it even greater," Peeta chuckles softly. He then raises his hand and points to the ring on his finger. "I also think this qualifies as pretty damn amazing, Katniss. The promise of spending a lifetime with you is everything to me."
He unclasps the necklace and moves to place it around my neck. I lean back and shake my head.
"Katniss, I'm not taking it back-" he begins in a playfully stern way.
"It's not that. It's just... it needs another picture in it. Why didn't you add one of yourself?"
"Well, I was going to. But I didn't want to assume," he shrugs.
"It's safe to assume I want you in my heart, too," I reply. "Do you have a picture of you I can have?"
Peeta runs a hand through his hair and nods, looking adorably flustered by what I've asked.
"Yeah, um... I think I have an old school one," he answers, then goes over to his closet and pulls out one of the cardboard boxes. I watch as he rummages through it for a few minutes. Finally, a grin comes to his face as he pulls out a camera.
He quickly makes his way back over to me, sits on the bed, and pats his lap for me to move onto it. My eyebrows draw together in confusion as I ask, "Um. Why do you want me to sit on your lap?"
"Do I have to have a reason?" he winks. I continue looking at him in question until he answers, "I found an old Polaroid camera. This way we can both be in your heart. It'd also just be nice to have a picture of the two of us."
I both cringe and nod. I hate getting my picture taken, but it would be nice to have a photograph of us together. I can look at it when I'm gone and remember what I have to look forward to. So, when Peeta pats his lap again, I roll my eyes and gently sit down.
I bring my arms around his shoulders and chest, clasping my hands together at the side of his neck. He wraps an arm around me, resting his hand on my shoulder. I lean my head against the crook of his neck, and he rests his head against mine. He tells me to smile, and I try to work up the best one I can, even if I'm not quite feeling it, and then he finally takes the picture.
Afterwards, when the image comes into view, he smirks and says with a prideful air, "Damn. We are one hot couple."
I snort at this, but I don't disagree. As I look down at the picture, I have to admit we do look great together. I usually hate my pictures, not that I've been in many over the years, but I actually look halfway decent in this one. Of course, it could just be that Peeta's in it and he has the effect of making everything around him more beautiful.
He cuts the picture to fit inside the locket, and after it's added, he brings it around my neck.
"I'm never taking this off," I tell him.
After packing my suitcase and talking a bit more, we halfheartedly agree that we should get some sleep.
I lie awake for a while, my eyes closed as I listen to the soothing rhythm of Peeta's heartbeat. I'm hesitant to fall asleep and allow this precious, final moment slip away. In such a short amount of time, sleeping in his arms has become so natural, so normal, that it seems I've taken it for granted. I never imagined I could ever be this close to someone, that I could ever love anyone in this sort of way, but now I can't imagine things being any different.
Where would I be now if things had gone differently, if Peeta and I had remained strangers? I'd like to think I would've eventually come up with some desperate plan to escape on my own, but realistically, I'd either be stuck in the same hell... or dead. Not only has Peeta changed my life and given me hope, he's helped me trust. He's made me believe there's still something good left in humanity. I couldn't have gotten this far without him.
I always dreamed of leaving this place and never looking back, but that was before I had something precious to leave behind. I'll make the most of it, though; I'll be as strong as I can be about the situation. Whatever loss I may feel, I know this is for the best.
Just knowing Prim will be safe, with a life full of new opportunities, offers me some relief. I'll just have to survive this as I have everything else. Whatever comes next is out of our hands.
With a heavy sigh, I gently remove myself from Peeta's arms and flip over onto my back. I'll be sleeping alone for months to come, so I should start practicing now.
I stare up at the ceiling, holding back tears. Peeta's only inches away from me, and yet it already feels like miles. How the hell did this even happen? I would've laughed a few months ago if I'd been told I'd wind up being a lovesick fool, crying over losing a boy.
In any case, it doesn't matter, because here I am.
Finally giving in, I turn over onto my side, facing away from him, and sob as silently as I can. It's not simply about leaving Peeta, either - it's everything.
A moment later, the bed shifts behind me and I find myself enveloped in Peeta's warmth again. Spooning his body against mine, he caresses the length of my arm with his fingertips until he finds my hand and entwines our fingers together.
Tightening his arm around me in a half-hug, he murmurs against my shoulder, "You're not gone yet."
I squeeze his hand before bringing it up and placing a kiss to his knuckles. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, touching his lips to my skin.
"I want to hold you as long as I possibly can," he whispers, causing a shiver to course through me. "Distance doesn't mean we have to grow apart."
I nod, hoping that proves to be true.
I awaken the next morning in Peeta's arms, wondering when exactly I had fallen asleep. I still feel exhausted, so it couldn't have been that long ago. My head aches a little from crying, and my stomach is in knots.
"Good morning," Peeta greets, kissing the side of my head.
I groan and turn over to face him. He looks wide awake. How long has he been lying here, holding me as I sleep? Whatever the case, I'm just thankful to wake up to his warmth. Especially on a day like this one.
The atmosphere is thick as we finally get out of bed. I glance at the window, seeing storm clouds and rivulets of rain pouring down the glass. At least the weather's fitting for the mood.
Peeta and I barely speak. What else is there really left to say?
I feel numb, as if I'm not fully inside my body. I'm basically on autopilot as I change, brush my teeth, and braid my hair. I glance at myself in the mirror and my eyes look vacant. I have no energy to either smile or frown. It doesn't even feel like I'm awake. Nothing about today seems real.
As I walk to the kitchen to find Peeta and Prim, I notice Mr. Mellark in his room. He's sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. I know he's doing what he thinks is best for us, but the decision evidently wasn't an easy one to make. My stomach flips as an idea comes to me; I'm not sure if it will help him or hurt him, but I feel it's the right thing to do.
I head back to Peeta's room, unzip my suitcase, and retrieve Mom's journal. Taking a deep breath, I make my way back to him and quietly clear my throat as I enter the room.
He immediately looks up at me with startled, questioning eyes.
I step closer and hand the journal to him. He looks down at it for a moment, then back up to me.
"I, um... I think you should have this," I stammer quickly with a shrug. "It was my mom's. I found it before we left. I haven't really read any of it, but... I know you guys were close and I think there might be stuff in there that might give you some answers."
He releases a long, shaky breath and glances down at it again, his finger tracing the spine. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are wet with tears.
"Katniss..." he begins in a hushed tone and rubs his eyes. "I don't really know what to say. Are you sure? I don't want to take what little you have to remember your mother—"
"Yeah, I'm sure," I answer with a nod, cutting him off. "I have all the good memories I need. The mom I had when I was younger is how I want to remember her. Reading some of that... it's after my dad died, and it's probably best I don't read more. But like I said, I think it might give you some answers. If you want to read it, that is."
What I said is true; I remember the doting, beautiful person my mother used to be, contrasted by the ghost she's become. I don't want to know what happened in between, what led her to losing her mind. I can't fix it.
However, I have a feeling that she probably wrote about what happened between herself and Mr. Mellark, maybe even talked about the pregnancy. It holds much more value in his hands than in mine.
He looks stunned for a moment - almost apologetic - but all he does is whisper, "Thank you."
I nod, feeling awkward all of a sudden, and make my way towards the doorway.
I'm about to enter the hall, when he calls out to me again.
"I'm sorry you have to leave today. I wish this could have turned out differently. But trust me, your grandparents are good people and they love you dearly. You'll be in good hands, and I wish you and your sister all the happiness in the world." He looks down at the journal for a moment before continuing, "I'll visit your mom every chance I can get, at least weekly. I'll keep you updated on her condition."
I give a small smile of thanks, not knowing what to say, before proceeding to find Peeta and Prim.
Besides Peeta saying a few sweet words of encouragement, we eat breakfast in silence. Well, they eat. I just kind of move my food around with a fork. I take a few bites, but I'm so lost in my thoughts I can barely taste it.
All of a sudden, the silence is broken by a loud knock at the door. We all look at each other with wide, wary eyes, knowing this is it. This is when everything will change.
Mr. Mellark opens the door and greets a man and a woman. The woman is middle-aged and plump, with a severe looking face. She wears her hair in a tight bun atop her head and her dress suit is a dreary shade of dark grey. The man is tall, with balding dark brown hair, and looks just as businesslike as the woman. Neither of them smile. They introduce themselves, but my heart is pounding so loud in my ears, I don't really hear what they say. All I know is that one of them is a social worker and the other is some sort of officer, sent to be a bodyguard for us.
Prim, Peeta, and I stand in the middle of the living room, none of us saying a word as we hold each other's hands. And then I hear the words I've been fearing: "It's time to go."
It's time to go.
With those four words, the numbness shatters and every feeling I could possibly have comes bursting to the surface. I can't breathe. My entire body is trembling. Everything around me blurs behind a wall of tears. I try to step forward, but I'm frozen in place.
I feel Peeta's hand on my shoulder, gentle and reassuring. However, it does nothing to console me; it only reminds me that this will be one of the last touches I'll feel from him for months. I quickly turn and wrap my arms around him in a tight embrace, dreading the moment when I'll finally have to let go. I take in his scent, his warmth, the tremble of his arms as
they wrap around me, and the unsteady rise and fall of his chest as he tries to hold back tears.
I can't do this.
"It'll be okay," Peeta says against my neck. "Everything's going to be fine, Katniss. Remember what I said. We'll talk every day, and I'll be with you before you know it. I promise."
I lean back slightly and look into his eyes, trying to ingrain every speck of blue to memory. I open my mouth to say something, but I can't find my voice. It doesn't matter anyway; nothing I could say would come close to conveying what I feel. Peeta's jaw is tense, and his eyes are brimming with tears. He's trying to be encouraging and strong for me, but I know this is just as difficult for him.
I close my eyes tightly as he brings his hands to the sides of my face and caresses my cheekbones with his thumbs. He places a kiss to my forehead before I tilt my head and bring my lips to his. I don't care that everyone is watching; I just need to feel his kiss one last time.
"I don't mean to cut things short, but we really need to be going. The flight leaves in an hour," the woman says softly, but with an edge of impatience.
Peeta and I reluctantly part again. He bites his lip and gives me a look that says this is goodbye for now. I feel as if I might throw up, but I give a nod of acceptance. When I step back, I feel cold and lifeless as I leave his arms.
Prim suddenly rushes forward and wraps her arms around Peeta's waist. He quickly lifts her up into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut and drawing his brows together as he embraces her tightly. He says something to her, but I don't catch what it is. Prim nods as she leans back and he lowers her to the floor again.
She walks over to me and takes my hand in hers.
"We have to go now," she says.
I inhale a deep breath and nod, a rush of resolve coursing through me as I look at her. This is no time for me to fall apart; I have to be strong - not for me, or Peeta, but for Prim. Isn't this what I've wanted all along? To finally be in a place where I know Prim is safe, where she can have a normal life? To escape this miserable town? I've always been willing to die to protect her, and it's no different now. I can't be selfish about this.
I turn and make my way towards the door, feeling as if my feet are moving of their own accord. The woman places a hand on my shoulder, as if to comfort me, but I know it's only to keep me moving forward.
I feel like shrugging her away, but I don't have the energy. The man picks up our suitcases and opens the door, and before I know it, I'm over the threshold. I stop in my tracks, feeling the urge to run back into the apartment, but I only turn my head long enough to see Peeta fall to his knees, his face in his hands and his shoulders shaking.
Before I can say anything or run back to him, the door closes.