You Love Me. I Love You.
A lovely prompt from PromptsEverlark by taleasoldasonceuponatime on Tumblr.
"We're not just friends, and you know it"
I wrote this while actually waiting at the hospital for a check-up. LOL. Crossing my fingers that my results are okay and that I get a clean bill of health. Enjoy the mild fluff. Everlark is the best medicine for the soul
P. S. Suzanne Collins owns The Hunger Games Trilogy.
"We're not just friends, and you know it."
Peeta's words echo in my thoughts as I sit on the cool metal bench at the district hospital. I'm getting a molecular test today because Dr. Aurelius saw scars on my lungs when they took my X-ray two days ago. I haven't had the best health lately, and I could feel it. My strength is not like it used to be, and my recent bout of cough and cold left me useless for a week.
Heaven knows I hate being taken care of - more like being a burden to Prim and my mother. They have to work at the hospital and don't need another patient at home.
Things got a little heated between Peeta and me two weeks ago. I've only seen him that angry or frustrated a couple of times since we were children because he had always been very patient. It's hard to push Peeta to the brim - he's just one of those few people who easily empathize with others and maintains his equanimity.
The first instance I saw him angry was when our middle school classmate, Cato Miller, called me a mangy stray dog in front of everybody in school. There were a lot of bruises on my skin from a hunting injury, so he teased me endlessly until Peeta saw me cornered to my locker. Cato towered over me as I prepared to kick his shins. Abruptly, Peeta pushed him back, and a wrestling match ensued right there in the hallway. They rolled on the floor and threw punches at each other. After about three minutes, Cato was caught on a submission armbar and left tapping. The whole commotion disrupted first period, even Mr. Plutarch, who normally stayed out of these things, got out of his classroom to watch the two wrestle. To him, they were nothing but pure entertainment.
It was Mr. Boggs who broke off the fight, and Peeta's mother picked him up from Principal Abernathy's office during lunchtime. Peeta and Cato were suspended for three days. When Peeta returned, he had a purplish welt on his face which I know Cato never gave him.
The second one was in junior year when Peeta's mother almost got a hold of my hair with the intent of dragging me out of the Mellark house. Peeta and I were doing our yearend science project in his room when she found us sitting together on the carpet. There were glitters stuck on my skin because Peeta impulsively decided that I was a fairy and sprinkled the sparkly dust all over me. It was hilarious and a good relief from all the stress we had from school. I've always relied on Peeta to bring me some fun and joy into my days.
Peeta was picking the tiny specks off my eyelids when Mrs. Mellark opened the door. Abrasively, she called me a slut and a bitch out to seduce his son and ruin his future. It was nothing new as she had called me that several times before but never in front of Peeta. Like the crazy woman she was, she pounced on me right away. But I guess Mrs. Mellark underestimated my speed and agility when she tried to grab me. She, however, was able to throw a vase in my direction. It cut my left cheek. Peeta was furious when he saw blood drip down. I've never seen his eyes grow dark as the deep ocean and his skin fuming hot. His mother got scared when he balled his fists and told her to stop. I saw then a world that Peeta kept locked inside of him. In the end, Peeta and I quietly walked home to Seam Town. It was the longest walk of my life. I was worried for him when he eventually had to go back home.
When Peeta got mad last Wednesday, it was totally different, though. He got mad because I screamed at him for taking a leave from work to stay with me for three days. No one asked him to do it, but he did it anyways. I knew how tight money was for him because his mother cut him off from the bakery. Losing three days of work was a big deal for working students like us.
"You're sick, Katniss, can't you see?" he told me at first as I anchor myself on the side of my bed to remain standing. I laughed at him bitterly because it was obvious that I was sick, but I didn't need his help.
"It's just three days. I'll take care of you so that you eat properly and rest. You don't stop moving when you're home alone. I'll even bet fifty dollars you tried going to work this morning."
Who was he to insult me as such, I thought. Immediately, my head became hot but not because of the fever.
"I'm not a baby," I spat with gritted teeth. "You don't have to do this! Just go, Peeta!"
"I can't. Just look at you!" He dropped his overnight bag on the floor, frustration spilling out of his skin. I couldn't believe his overprotectiveness.
"I'm fine! ... I don't ..." A coughing fit followed, and it took me a minute or so to get another word out. I swallowed the phlegm that surfaced and eyed Peeta steely. "I don't need you!"
"You do, Katniss! You're so stubborn ..." He touched my shoulder lightly because I was hunched over my bed, but I brushed his hand away rudely. I had to prove my point. I could take care of myself, and he needed to return to work.
"Katniss, don't make this difficult ...," he pleaded, but the change of tactic flew over my thick head. In hindsight, I think it was the fever fighting with Peeta.
"It's not me. It's you! You're making this difficult!" Another round of coughing started. This time worse than the first. My head was throbbing, and my eyes were all watery and burning. I felt cold and sweaty at the same time, and my skin tingled at the slightest breeze of air that hit me. Suddenly, I felt dizzy, and the room started spinning.
I woke up in bed with a cold towel on my forehead, a humidifier with lavender oil running to help me breathe and relax, and Peeta sleeping on an old armchair beside my bed. I think he was also holding my hand.
"Hey," he cooed when I started moving. He quickly stood up to lean over me and took my temperature. "You fainted. I called your mom, and she told me what to do. Just stay in bed and rest. Here, drink this tea."
It must have been his eyes, or his soothing voice, or his warm hand running up and down my forearm that did it because I didn't argue with him. I drank the tea to the last drop. It was familiarly sweet, and when I gave him back the cup, I realized exactly what he did to me.
Sleep syrup. Damn this fever.
"Peeta, why are you doing this?" He remained quiet, and a tinge of pain hinted at his eyes when he heard my question.
"Katniss, don't ask me that," he answered as he helped me lie down. He fixed the blanket until it reached my chin, then brushed my hair back as he changed the cool towel over my forehead. It was all very soothing.
"Why not? I'm just your friend, Peeta."
"Okay, maybe best friend," I corrected myself between coughs. Eighteen years of being friends merited that label anyways. I felt the sleep syrup pulling my eyelids down, and thought that my mother must have instructed him to put a lot of the syrup in the tea.
"We're not just friends, and you know it," he whispered to me, but I'm already too far gone to process it.
"Cheese buns?" Peeta appears behind me, breaking me out of my recollection. "It's already lunchtime. Have you eaten anything yet?"
"Peeta, why are you here?" He's wearing his work clothes from the local bakery and still has some flour on his hair.
"Why not? I want to be here." How did he even find me here?
"Don't you have work? I know you have work. Please go back to work."
I'm rewarded with a chuckle that disarms me. Damn those deep dimples.
"Just eat the cheese buns, Everdeen," he commands and dangles the freshly baked treat in front of me. "Make me happy?"
"Fine."
"Awesome!"
When I'm done with my fifth cheese bun, I remember again what he said.
"Peeta?"
"Yeah? You want more?"
"No, thank you. I'm already full."
"Wonderful." His smile reaches his eyes, and I hear the person behind me sigh. I didn't know we had an audience.
"Were you going to ask me something?"
"Ummm, yeah."
"Go ahead. I'm an open book." Thank goodness the lady behind me gets called, and I feel better asking my question.
"What did you mean when you said, "We're not just friends, and I know it?" " I bite the insides of my bottom lip and wait for his answer. I don't know why I'm suddenly nervous.
"Easy"
"Easy?" I'm confused now. Why can't Peeta be straightforward?
"You love me, and I love you ... As more than just friends," he confidently says but then looks away to pack the rest of the cheese buns in his bag. His ears are all red, and his cheeks and neck are a splotchy pink. I don't miss the slight tremble of his hands and the deep breath that he takes.
"I do? You do?"
Peeta locks his eyes with mine. I know he's trying to be brave or is debating on something. This part of him, I can read. There have been many moments like this between us, but he always dismisses it and looks away. Now though, he doesn't. He even holds my hand.
"Do you?" he whispers. "Do you love me?"
I'm reminded of the kind boy who gave me bread all those years back in kindergarten. His big blue eyes were always happy to see me and were so vibrant while we played tag around the meadows. All it took for our friendship to start was my gift of a dandelion flower. I saw him looking at them during recess, so I plucked one from the ground and gave it to him. He was wistfully happy and asked me if I'd really meant to give it to him. When I said yes, he quickly gave me a hug. We've been inseparable ever since.
"I do ...," I say and touch his cheek. "Peeta, I think I do ... Love you, that is." I don't add "as more than friends" and instead give him a kiss between his eyes.
"Katniss Everdeen!" the nurse calls. Peeta leans his forehead into my lips and then kisses my palms. His eyes remain closed as he does so. How could anyone be so sweet and tender?
"Wait for me here?" I murmur, and his smile brightens even more. It's an opening, and he gets it. We have a future to live together.
"Always."
Thank you for reading. Comments and feedback make my day!