Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thank you for all of the support and reviews-I love reading all of your thoughts, criticism, etc. I have received some wonderful insights!!
Hopefully, in the last chapter everyone approved of the way I addressed Gale. Like most Everlark fans, I think Gale is annoying and possessive and puts a damper on fanfic stories so I try to get him out of the way as soon as possible. :)
I apologize for how long it has taken me to update. This chapter, in particular, was a challenge to write. I believe that it is an integral part of this fanfic so I wanted to write it correctly and with respect to the authenticity of the characters.
Anyway, enjoy!
FLEETING HAPPINESS
I explore the new, blossoming side of my relationship with Peeta over the next few days. Although I'm careful not to be too physical with him in public or in front of my family, I revel in his touch when we are alone. I'm grateful for how Peeta is always cautious of my feelings, allowing me to make the first move when I'm comfortable. It's easy to be close with him. He's so gentle and thoughtful in both words and actions. I'm slowly realizing, too, that I don't need to prove my feelings to him. Just through my actions, he can read how I feel. This complicated burning sense of longing and appreciation for him... And yes, maybe something deeper that I'm too afraid to admit yet.
During our final few days in Twelve, ticking away like a time bomb before we are bombarded with Effie and our prep teams, Peeta invites Prim and me to the bakery when his mother isn't around to teach us how to bake. We meet his brothers, both with wide dimpled smiles and messy blond locks just like Peeta. They're not as amiable as Peeta is but kind all the same. Before we leave, his father, Mr. Mellark, generously allows Prim to take home one of the window cakes that had some imperfections with the frosting.
I slowly welcome Peeta into my world and take him to the Meadow. Most townspeople avoid any place near the fence, so he hasn't been much. Most of the snow has completely melted so the ground is dry enough to sit down and have a picnic. We eat lunch and then lay down beside one another on a blanket my mom knitted a long time ago. I find Peeta's stray hand and rest my cheek against his shoulder while he points out that some tiny buds are erupting from the tips of the tree branches above us.
"Spring is coming soon and then summer," he whispers.
"Yeah, another summer and another games," I mutter. Peeta's thumb strokes my knuckles.
"I know. At least, we can help each other mentor. We won't be alone like Haymitch was," Peeta assures. He's right. Poor Haymitch, whose only companion was a bottle of wine. Here's another reason why I'm grateful to have Peeta alive and with me. Unfortunately, without him, I think I'd end up in a similar situation as Haymitch.
"Yeah... Should we see him today? You know, make sure he's alive before we have to force him onto another train," I say. That man has the most dysfunctional way of life. I've seen him twice over these past weeks, and he's either completely sober and broody as hell or he's stumbling around his house laughing and singing obnoxious tunes.
"Definitely. I always worry about what he's up to. Should we try and stop by after dinner?" Peeta suggests.
We both show up at Haymitch's door at dusk, with pound cake and some flowers from the market to brighten up his disgusting place a bit. Fortunately, upon our knocking Haymitch opens the door fully dressed and with clear and alert eyes.
"Oh, it's you guys. Come in. We need to discuss wedding details anyway," he grumbles, ushering us inside. I take a gulp of fresh air outside before stepping over the threshold. Peeta and I edge around the various clutter in the foyer before we reach the dimly lit kitchen. Haymitch scrapes off whatever is on the countertop so Peeta can cut the cake.
"Thoughtful. Thanks," he murmurs nonchalantly, taking the flowers from me and stuffing them in a vase from the shelf. They don't improve the room much.
"So, you two excited for the big day?" Haymitch asks with mock excitement, leaning against the countertop with folded arms. Peeta simply shrugs while I roll my eyes.
"It's-it's not the way it should happen," Peeta finally answers quietly, passing out pieces of cake to us.
"Well... listen you two. If got some stuff to say about it," Haymitch reveals, staring at us with an intent expression. "And it's pretty important."
"What's there to know?" Peeta asks. Haymitch sighs, walking over to the table. We follow him, and I move some stray socks in order to sit down. Haymitch folds his hands together over the table.
"I have been planning to tell you this. I didn't really know when because, well, frankly, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable... I guess, now I've gotta say it. After next Wednesday, when you two get married and have the reception at the President's mansion, a car will escort you to a mountain resort away from the city. That's where you'll have your honeymoon," he explains.
"But, Haymitch, we already know. Effie wrote out the schedule for us," I tell him. Haymitch shakes his head.
"No, Katniss, there's more. Now, look, I know President Snow threatened you before the Tour. It's not uncommon for him to suggest prostitution to Victors if they are young and, you know, decent looking like you both," he gestures. "Well, fortunately, it wasn't as big of a thing in my day, but it grew popular overtime... What I'm trying to say is just because you're getting married and are cleared from being handed out as a slave doesn't mean your privacy is completely protected," Haymitch delicately puts it with a grim expression.
"What do you mean, Haymitch?" Peeta asks, and I feel fear rising within me as I begin to catch on.
"You'll be filmed. And there will be hidden mics. In your bedroom, maybe even the bathroom. In the Capitol... there are no rules against pornography without consent of the individuals being filmed if they are district born," he elaborates, his voice shaking slightly. Haymitch is scared for us. We should be scared for us. People in the Capitol are planning on filming Peeta and I during sex so they can send it to all of the disgusting creepy people there.
"Haymitch... how do you know for sure?" Peeta asks quietly, glancing at me with a terrified look. My ears have begun to ring. I can't stare anywhere but at the dirty wooden table.
"Trust me, I know. It's serious. You two need to be on guard at all times in the Capitol," he informs us. "They might find other ways to use you there, and you don't want Snow to have any reason to think that your relationship isn't real."
"We'll be careful, Haymitch," is all Peeta manages to get out, sneaking a hand across the table to hold mine. I grip his fingers like a lifeline and silently nod.
After our conversation with Haymitch, I hardly sleep that night but rather sweat and shiver in my bed. I hadn't really even thought about the honeymoon nor expecting to do anything with Peeta during that time anyway, but the idea... the audacity that the Capitol will secretly film us is revolting. But honestly, why didn't I expect this? It's not entirely unthinkable that they would do something like this.
I try not to think of all the other poor Victors, including Finnick, who have suffered this and worse. Maybe I was wrong, ending up like Haymitch wouldn't be so bad. He was lucky enough to avoid prostitution in his time and isn't chained to a marriage made public to every eye in the Capitol.
I'm not surprised by the the level surveillance in the Capitol, but I wonder to what extent are there cameras or hidden mics here in Twelve? Not until very recently have we been under heavy curfew and the long broken rules actually implemented. Before the new round of peacekeepers trolled through the district, nobody hardly cared about most things people did. Gale and I hunted illegally with ease and the black market was thriving.
There could be some level of secret surveillance in the Victor houses because they weren't built that long ago, but I'm not certain. Haymitch sure seems to think our homes are not heavily monitored because sometimes he says completely mutinous things when drunk. Or maybe he just doesn't care if they show up and kill him.
Would there be cameras in Peeta's bedroom? I suddenly wonder to myself.
I'm not sure why I'm even thinking about this... I've kissed Peeta with sincere feelings now, but I have never actually thought about doing anything more. I assume Snow will somehow force us to have sex anyway, especially because, no doubt, he'll want Victor children to publicize. I've avidly tried avoiding the thought of having future children with Peeta, but it seems inevitable with the road we're traveling.
At the moment, I'm unsure if I'll cry or vomit. I struggle to rush to the bathroom and throw myself onto the floor. I clamp my hands around the toilet seat, and a series of gags issue from deep within my throat, but nothing comes out. Tears run down my face, and I rest my head against the wall. When I do eventually sleep, I have a bizarre dream.
I'm back in the suite at the Golden Pillar Hotel in the Capitol, viewing a broadcast about the usual updates on the hostile environment of what was once District Thirteen. I notice a flash of feathers near the reporter's head and suddenly a flock of mockingjays emerge from the projector screen and surround me. Their beaks and sharp talons poke and pull at me, forcing me into the screen. I somehow climb through it. Inside, I find that the Capitol reporter has disappeared, and I wander the barren wasteland filled only with chunks of rubble and some crumbling structures.
The wind blows violently, and one of the structures to my right completely collapses. Voices whisper about me, from all sides. I look around but nobody's there. But somehow there are people chanting my name. The chorus becomes louder and louder, frightening me. I try to escape the sound, but a distinct voice calls out above them all. I hear him-I hear Peeta.
"Don't run, Katniss. They need you. Don't be afraid. Don't give up hope. Victory is on its way, you just have to reach out and grasp it."
I jolt awake, my cheek pressed against the tile of the bathroom floor. My limbs ache as I pull myself up. Dream Peeta's voice echoes in my head. The call to responsibility in his words shakes me. I stumble out of the bathroom and down the hall. I make it downstairs and shove on my hunting boots. Outside in the courtyard, my feet follow the cracks of light emanating from the windows of Peeta's house. They find themselves at his doorstep, and my fist knocks rapidly at his door.
"Katniss? What's wrong?" Peeta finds me standing there in silence, staring up at him and taking in all of the funny details of his appearance. The paint on his cheek, his hair a bit sweaty and sticking out in odd places, his eyes that dark, restless color of zero sleep.
"Nothing. Sorry, I just wanted to see you," I tell him finally. He allows me inside. Soon, we both sense what is plaguing the other and finally embrace. I bury my face into his shirt, soaking up his radiating warmth. In this moment, I think I could cry and not feel the least embarrassed by it in front of him.
"Yesterday's talk wasn't fun," Peeta murmurs into my hair, holding me tighter.
"Yeah," I speak into his chest against his beating heart. "We don't own anything. Nothing is ours, Peeta," I whisper. He doesn't answer because he knows I'm right. Somehow, we miraculously reverse roles, and words begin tumbling from my mouth.
"I don't want my first time to be monitored, Peeta. I don't want it to be the Capitol's to feed on. If we... if we do it, it should just be ours. I'm done with him controlling us," I admit bitterly. Peeta's eyes are wide and startled. He must be shocked that I'm even considering having a complete relationship with him. His expression gradually transforms into a somber look.
"I know, Katniss. Me neither."
I feel the blood pulsing through my veins when my next words come out: "Let's do it now. You're not too tired, are you?"
As I expected, he immediately shakes his head. "What-no! Katniss, you can't be serious."
"I know, it's sudden. But this is the only place I can think of that's safe to do it," I explain quietly. Peeta releases his grip on me, taking a step back so he can study my face.
"But, Katniss. You know what you're asking, right?"
I give a shaky nod. "Yes. Peeta, let's make it ours. I don't want to do it in the Capitol. You know Snow will end up forcing us," I add, my voice barely above a whisper. A hint of pain flashes across Peeta's eyes and his jaw clenches. He looks away.
"I don't want to do it if it's only for that reason," he responds. I realize my mistake. I shouldn't have made it seem like I only want to have sex with Peeta because I'll be forced to anyway. Like it's all just part of the act so we might as well get it over with. No, I'm not going to hurt him again, to give him false hope like I did in the arena.
"I-I'm sorry, Peeta. I didn't mean that. I mean... I want to do this with you, and only you. But I want to do it here, in Twelve. It's safer here," I rephrase, feeling my cheeks redden during my confession. Peeta's gaze finds mine and softens.
"So, you really want to do this? Right now? You're okay with this?" he asks sincerely, always so cautious of my feelings. I draw closer to him, discovering his strong, paint streaked hands and clasping them tightly.
"Yes, Peeta. You're not forcing me."
He wraps me in his arms, and I feel his happiness, too strong to hide, transfer over to me. Sometimes when I'm with Peeta, the goodness he exudes is almost too much to handle. I can't understand how it's possible to feel such goodness with him amidst all of the bad. But somehow, with him, I believe in things that I thought were simply from children's tales. Things that cannot exist in my world.
We hug for a long time, holding on to this precious moment. Our moment which will never be the Capitol's or Snow's or anybody's. The first time Peeta and I are both deciding to commit to something just for the sake of each other. But, because I soon realize that I've never actually made love to someone, I find myself shaking in his arms.
"Do you have-some-some wine or something?" I ask with a shaky laugh. I'm not sure how else to settle my nerves.
"Let me check." Peeta goes to the kitchen cupboard. "I think all I have is cooking wine. I try not to have any alcohol in my house," He says with a shrug, pulling out the bottle. It makes sense that he doesn't because of the bad example set by Haymitch.
"I'll take it. You drink some, too. It... it won't be nice if you're tense," I mention, and for the first time I see Peeta really blush. A deep pink colors his face, spreading out to his ears. It's quite funny, but also reflects how I feel, too.
We take the wine and two glasses upstairs to his bedroom. While sitting on Peeta's bed, we both drain the entire bottle. I drink it all very fast so it will effect me quicker, afraid that I'll end up being as stiff as a board and it won't be pleasurable for Peeta. The only problem is now I'm worried that I won't even remember this moment. A woozy, warm feeling overtakes me, and my brain fogs over. My limbs feel strangely weighted and glide smoothly in movement. Peeta is perhaps experiencing something similar because his face seems far too serene. Neither of us have eaten anything since last night and we aren't very tolerant to alcohol.
He's too beautiful to resist, and I find myself laughing as I tumble on top of him. He grins up at me and leans in to kiss every inch of my face. We push and pull against one another, my entire body buzzing intensely. His touch is exhilarating, and we move almost rhythmically. I allow myself to drown in this entirely new sensation with Peeta. I need all of him, and the urge is terrible. It's almost as bad as intense thirst or hunger.
I forget exactly what happens in between, but soon I find myself beneath him with our clothes discarded on the floor. It happens gently and wonderfully, and I'm discovering the satisfaction that I yearned for since that particular kiss we shared in the arena. It's as if I've always wanted Peeta, since that very moment, but I haven't come face to face with the reality until now.
"Katniss... you're amazing. So amazing," he breathes into my ear, causing another wave of bliss to wash over me.
"So are you."
As we continue, something tugs at the back of my mind amidst our movements, a bad thought that's ruining this good moment. A lurching fear, cloudy yet distinctively dark. I hold Peeta closer against me, knowing that his goodness will overpower what is biting at me. His love pushes it away, his special superpower that always seems to work on me.
A/N: I suck at writing intimate scenes, guys. No shame, sex scenes make me uncomfortable. I tried to focus on writing about the emotional/spiritual experience Katniss is having rather than explaining all of the specifics. But let me know what you all think!