Murphy's Law
My first ever drabble from a prompt from Tumblr.
Thank you to lemonluvgirl87 for the challenge! This is my gift for all your awesomeness.
P.S. I love the Hunger Games. I will forever. Suzanne Collins owns everything!
Prompt #11 "Well, yell, scream, say something. Anything!"
I wake up pressed to Peeta's expansive, freckled chest and lay lazy kisses on his supple skin. He feels perfect in these early morning hours as he surrounds me with his warmth as we lay under the covers with entwined limbs. I don't know how long he's been asleep, and I shouldn't be waking him with my ministrations, but his skin feels so delicious on my lips that I don't want to stop savoring him.
"Hey," he coos sleepily. His voice is smooth and soothing like caramel, and I long to hear my name from his lips.
"Hey, I couldn't resist," I confess and suck lightly at his collarbone. I pepper his pecs with more lingering kisses and inhale his cinnamony boy musk.
"That's nice," he replies and rubs my back, encouraging me to continue.
I work my way up from his chest to his neck and then to his chiseled jaw before reaching his full lips. He welcomes me openly, kissing me keenly and lingering on my lower lip. He knows I love it when he does that. Weaving my hands on his curls, he tightens his legs around mine; his action sends an instant wet pool to my core, making me want more. Our legs clenched against each other under the soft sheets feel utterly scrumptious, and I know none of us will go back to sleep anytime soon.
"Is this paint?" I ask curiously when I feel something sticky behind his left ear. Peeta has been painting a lot before he sleeps lately. Sometimes he gets so tired he just falls down in our bed without cleaning himself. A couple of our sheets are already stained with acrylic because of his late-night art sessions.
Peeta moves my hand in front of his face to look at it, and the orange-colored oil paint makes his eyes widen. Suddenly he becomes stiff beside me as if seeing a ghost or remembering something dreadful. "Katniss," he breathes out and doesn't finish his sentence. He throws the covers off his body and exits our room hastily.
"Peeta?" I call out and rise promptly to follow him. I feel dizzy from the sudden movement, so I push my palm on the wall beside me to steady myself. "What's wrong?" I whisper and fight to maintain my balance.
I find him in the spare room of our apartment that he has turned into his painting studio. He's fumbling with something in his pajama pocket when I see him, then proceeds to clean up his paints and brushes. "I forgot that I have to go early to the bakery today, Katniss. There are several cake orders I have to finish."
"Peeta, it's barely three in the morning. You have to go back to bed. Come on …," I reason and walk towards him. He dodges my hug and moves out of the room in a hurry.
"I really have to go, Katniss!" he champions from the hallway.
I'm left there surrounded by his painting, alone and confused by his behavior. What just happened? A few minutes ago, we were just kissing lazily, basking in foreplay, and now he's almost repulsed by my touch
and can't wait to leave me?
"Peeta ..." I plea when I sit down on our cold, empty bed. He's busily getting dressed, fixing his belt, and pulling his white bakery shirt over his torso. "Can't you wait even just an hour? This is ridiculous. You barely slept ..."
"I'll be fine, Katniss," he tells me and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing his jacket on the corner chair. "So many cake orders and I have to finish everything before lunchtime. I'll see you in the park after work, okay?"
In less than a minute, I hear him shut the front door then the whole apartment becomes silent. What a rough morning this is turning out to be.
….…
After a few hours of tossing and turning, I resolve to bring Peeta some lunch at the bakery to make peace of our hurried parting. He has been really stressed because it's wedding season, so I must be more understanding of him. So many brides order their wedding cake from Mellark bakery, and several few specifically request that their cake be decorated by Peeta. His sugar flowers and pipe designs meet the aesthetics of both modern and traditional weddings, so he gets a steady stream of customers. Peeta is really making a name for himself in the industry, and I am incredibly proud of him.
I prepare for him a simple stew in the pressure cooker and reheat some cornbread that he made yesterday. Smearing some butter on the bread and grating some cheese on top before reheating it in the toaster oven adds a new flavor. It's not the most elaborate of lunches, but it is hearty, and I'm sure that he will appreciate the effort that I put into it. It's also easy to eat, so we can just have lunch while he works. I could even feed him if he was busy and couldn't stop to eat lunch. It's not something I normally do for anyone but I feel a little more caring for him today after seeing him so edgy and frazzled this morning.
When I get to the bakery, I instantly spot the ridiculous woman who has been the thorn in my eyes for months. Ever since Peeta delivered the five-tier cake to her posh birthday party at Capitol Tower, Clove Heavensbee has been trying to seduce him with her tight-fitting and revealing designer dresses. She's always at the bakery and is permanently ordering a cake or some sort of complicated pastries. Her name is practically printed on the order sheets with the staggering number of cakes she buys. Who buys a celebration cake for their cousin's cousin's best friend or their distant second uncle from abroad? This woman just makes my blood boil - I'm fundamentally steaming from my ears.
"Hey, Rye!" I greet brazenly as I enter the bakery front. I overlook the many customers filling their trays with loaves and pastries and how lengthy the line of people is because I must stake my claim on the Mellark land. "Where's Peeta? MY hot boyfriend!" I play recklessly. It's so out of character, but I don't really care.
I get snickers from the old ladies getting hot cross buns, and some mothers with their young children from the donut display roll their eyes with irritation. Clove throws me daggers with her fake green eyes, and Rye gives me his most mischievous grin. He certainly knows what I'm doing.
"YOUR boyfriend is at the back. Go on and shock him dead, Kitty Cat," he banters with his full voice, then winks at me. I really like Rye. He's funny and easy-going, unlike Peeta's eldest brother, Wheaton, who is an absolute automaton.
I wonder how they all came from the same mother? Then again, Peeta and Rye both take from their father. Thank goodness for this because Peeta's mother is a horrendous witch.
I make my way into the large kitchen, brushing past Clove on the counter but paying her no mind. My smile is from ear to ear as I reap my win from this battle. When I swing the door, Peeta is nowhere to be found. Nodding at the rest of the employees that are all busy shaping bread, I look around for him in the vast kitchen. I just love the smell and the energy of the bakery. It's dynamic but not in a rushed kind of way.
"Have you noticed Peeta?" I ask one of his co-workers.
"He's at the storage room," she tells me, and I proceed to the secluded room at the back.
When I find Peeta, he's facing an open sack of wheat flour, muttering something I couldn't comprehend since his back is facing me.
"Peeta?" I call him, and he gets spooked. His hands flick as if he dropped something on the sack, and he immediately bends over to look for whatever it was that had fallen.
"I brought you some lunch. I thought we could eat together," I say in a vain attempt to get a response. "I know you're busy, so I made you something easy to eat."
"Okay, Katniss. I'll be right there," he says coolly, then shoos me away with his right hand. "I'll see you in the cake room. Go on ahead of me."
"Do you need help there?" I reply patiently and walk toward him. "Let me help you."
"Hey, Kitty Cat!" Rye abruptly appears in the room and zips past me to obtain some bakery supplies. "Nice job out there! You really threw her off, Catwoman!"
I only give Rye a triumphant smile before shifting my sling bag over my lower back, preparing to bend over to help Peeta. I kneel on the floor beside him, but Rye casually takes the sack of flour that Peeta is digging through and transfers it to a pushcart that they use for deliveries.
"Thanks, baby brother," he says in an upbeat matter, then pats Peeta's back like usual. "He's all yours to smooch now, Katniss," he tells me before leaving the room. "Don't let him use the butter as lubricant!"
"Hang on a minute," Peeta says to me without even looking my way, then he hastily runs after Rye to the kitchen. A can of baking powder falls from the shelf that he clumsily bumps then he is gone. For the second time today, I am left in a room alone and confused by my boyfriend.
Dejected and a little hurt, I leave the storage room and make my way to talk once and for all to Peeta. He's hitting all my buttons today by not giving me enough attention. I spent my day off from being a field officer just to make lunch for him, even though he knows that I don't really cook. I even did that little show for him to keep that venomous socialite Clove away.
My eyes feel like fire, blazing a path across the bakery kitchen as I head to the cake room. Irritation flares up to anger in my chest when I catch Peeta talking to no other than Clove Heavensbee and designing yet another cake for her. I shamelessly wish that she is ordering her funeral cake.
"Here's your lunch!" I gibe when I reach them and drop the food container on the metal table unceremoniously. It lands with a loud thump, and Clove gasps, evidently shocked and aggravated by my presence. I couldn't care shit. She shouldn't even be here at this moment. Clove retaliates by fixing herself and obviously jiggling her pushed-up breasts to make a show for Peeta.
I glare at Peeta, making sure he focuses on me and sees the fire he lit in my eyes. I'm so mad at him now that my neck is undoubtedly flaring red. "Katniss, please ..." he responds at a complete loss for words. His eyes are glistening, and for a moment, I feel bad for him and want to just hug him. But Clove steals the moment by tapping her high heels on the floor, effectively telling me to hurry up. If I wasn't so civilized and am not an officer of the law, I would pull all her ugly hair out right then and there.
"I'll see you at the park," I say and stomp out of the room before I do anything I will regret.
"Katniss, wait!" I hear Peeta voice desperately, but I just bolt and leave the bakery.
He'd already hurt me too much today.
…..
Needing some peace and quiet from all the craziness of today, I go straight to the lake at Abernathy's Park. It's only three in the afternoon, but I feel exhausted as a racehorse.
It's difficult for me, but I could understand when Peeta ignores me because of all the work he has to do at his family's bakery but to not even mind me? On top of it, he entertains Clove even though he knows that I am waiting is just infuriating and downright upsetting. I can't understand why he had done it because it's just not him to do such a thing. Tired and resentful, I forlornly sit on the worn-out wooden bench and wallow in my pain.
While I brew, I watch the gaggle of geese swim in the water, carefree and content with their uncomplicated lives. Peeta and I have been living together for almost a year now, and it is bliss being with him. My days with him are the happiest I've ever been in such a long time. He makes me feel safe and loved every day, and I don't regret moving in with him despite the distance from my hometown.
I wonder what will become of our relationship? Where this love at first sight whirlwind of ours will take us. I never thought I was capable of loving someone so fast, but Peeta made it so effortless to fall for him. Everything is easy with him, come to think of it. He's generous, kind, affectionate, and humorous in many ways.
Maybe our streak will end today? And we will finally experience the miseries and struggles of being a serious couple. I don't know how to feel about this, and if I am honest with myself, I'm a little scared because I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.
I wait by the park bench where Peeta and I met two years ago. He was feeding the ducks with bread crumbs from the bakery when he noticed me passing by with an old friend. I was merely studying the park, marveling at how a place that beautiful could exist in the middle of a busy city. From the corner of my eye, I noticed him then.
A person must be blind if she, or even he, misses Peeta Mellark by the lake. He's an above-average height, blonde hunk, and is handsome from all angles that you can't help but take a second look. Wearing a brown apron around his waist, he charitably feeds twenty or so geese, making you wish you were part of the avian species.
Peeta said he was a goner for me when he saw me. I'd like to think that I fell hard for him too when our eyes momentarily met. I guess that's why today hurts all the more for me because today is the day we met in this megacity.
I release a deep breath at the memory and feel my anger vanish into the cool fresh air. My lung gets replaced by more gloom and nervousness.
Six o'clock strikes and the church bells ring, but Peeta is still nowhere to be seen. Observing every person walking by makes me grow anxious from waiting. Patiently, I linger half an hour more, watching until the last slivers of sunlight disappear in the night sky.
He's not coming, I realize, and for the third time today, Peeta Mellark left me alone and hanging. I let myself cry this time, being hidden in the darkness of the evening as my heart breaks open.
When I get home, I hear music playing in the apartment, it's not happy music, but it's old 60s music that Peeta loves. My anger grows back once more, and my blood curdles thinking of how he had forgotten about our afternoon in the park.
Spotting the turntable, I quickly turn it off and then notice the pile of fruit cake on the kitchen counter. There are piles and piles of crumbled cake, and the kitchen is a total mess. The scene is so strange, that I stomp up the stairs to our bedroom to get answers.
"Peeta?" I call with spite as I enter our bedroom. "Where are you?"
He doesn't answer, but I hear him turning off the sink faucet. I tell myself to wait a minute more so he can go out, but impatience and vexation take over me. Forcefully, I twist the doorknob and push it. It slams on the ocean-blue wall behind, and I get satisfaction from its loud thump. Peeta is startled, and I hear a metal clink into the sink.
"What the hell?" I huff when he doesn't look at me. He's hunched over the sink holding his nape with his two hands, ignoring me again. "Just talk to me, Peeta!"
"Katniss just …" he says without looking at me, and I cut him off, disheartened from everything and his lack of words.
"What is wrong, Peeta?" I begin, fully confident that I have every right to spill out. "First, you storm out of the apartment at three in the morning saying you have tons of orders to finish. Then when I come and try to make you feel better by bringing you lunch, you leave me alone in the storage room without even giving me a meaningful second. Then I find you talking to that witch ass Clove Heavensbee instead of addressing me and being happy that I made you a meal and delivered it to you! Oh! … Oh! And I tried to understand you while I was in the park by the very bench where I always meet you because it was sentimental to us, but you just stood me up!" I'm screaming at him now, and he is just taking all my sharp arrows in, wincing as my voice becomes rougher and thinner. "No text, no call, not even a ridiculous messenger pigeon to let me know that you weren't coming! And now, I come home, and you're playing your favorite music! Music?! As if there is nothing wrong while clearly there are a million things wrong!" I try to catch my breath as tears fall from my eyes. Peeta won't even look at me and is still hunched over the sink with a towel under his face. "I'm not even going to talk about the mess of fruit cake in our kitchen. But clearly, you have to address and LOOK at your girlfriend that is now feeling so left out and taken for granted on three separate occasions today …"
Peeta shakes his head raggedly several times, then pushes himself off the sink to finally give me attention. His face is miserable and downcast, but I am beyond melting from his puppy dog eyes, so I give him a final huff. "Well, yell, scream, say something. Anything!"
"I'm going to propose to you today, Katniss!" he half screams and half pleas. He then rubs his face with his palms, running it so vigorously you think he wants to erase a horrifying memory.
"You what?" I say as his words refuse to sink in.
I sniff back my tears as I watch him fall sullen and even ashamed.
Throwing the towel onto the sink, Peeta takes my cold sweaty hand and walks us over to our bed. He has me slowly sit on the edge of the cushion while he stands in front of me to explain.
"I said I was going to propose to you today, Katniss," he says calmly and genuinely. My heart stings at the pained expression on his face as he speaks. "I wanted to ask your hand in marriage at the park. I already got your parents' and Prim's blessings two weeks ago, but things ..."
He waits for me to speak, softly looking into my eyes, giving me a chance to react. But I don't say anything and hold my tongue because I want to hear the whole story. I release a sigh and nod my head instead, beckoning him to continue.
"But so many things went awfully wrong today that I was entirely panicked and frozen. First, I forgot your engagement ring in my painting studio last night, that was why I left our bed when you asked me about the paint. Then when you followed me into the room, I hid the ring in my pajama pocket so you won't see. I had to leave the house quickly because I knew that you would comfort me and cuddle, then you'll notice the ring in my pocket, and my surprise would be blown."
"Peeta …"
"No, Katniss. Let me explain, okay?" he says lovingly, then cups my left cheek and wipes away the tears that are about to fall. "I hurt you pretty badly today, and I have no excuses, but I want you to know what happened."
"Okay"
"At the bakery, I was going over my speech while holding the ring when you came to the storage room. It sounds ridiculous, but I was practicing in front of the huge sack of flour. I imagined you sitting on the park bench, and I would kneel on one knee and propose to you. The flour sack seemed a good dummy, but you called me then I dropped the ring in the flour."
"That's why …"
"Yes. I couldn't possibly have you help me look for your own engagement ring. It would ruin everything."
"Then Rye took the sack ..."
"Unfortunately, he did," Peeta huffs filled with frustration. "So I followed him, stupidly ignoring you in the process. I am so sorry about it, Love. I was so rotten, but I couldn't possibly lose your ring."
"But what about Clove?" I ask, almost spitting her name. Peeta just sighs.
"I was going to finally confess to you in the cake room, but I found Clove there, waiting. I tried to make Clove leave, and I just gave her the order sheet to fill up when you found us. Katniss, I panicked when you came in so mad, giving me that burning look of yours that I never saw before. I tried to go after you, but you ran and disappeared in the crowd in the street."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I did, but your phone died after three missed calls," he replies sadly. Peeta shifts to kneel on both knees in front of me and takes my hands in his.
"No, it didn't," I refuse defensively and pull my right hand from his to bring my phone out of my pocket. I don't know how I missed it, but my phone is indeed out.
"It's not your fault, Katniss. I made all the mistakes today, okay? I'm the idiot. And I'm really, really sorry, Love."
"Okay. What about the fruit cake?" I probe.
"Rye used the flour to make the fruit cake, and I had to go through the whole batch to find your ring. You know how fast Rye could work, right? He had the flour already in the mixer when I returned to the kitchen. I was so embarrassed to tell him that your ring was in there, so I anxiously waited until everything was baked. Then I made this fictional customer ordering all the fruit cake we made today."
"You could have just told your brother, Peeta. That was too much trouble, and you could have had help."
"I know, I know. I made a long series of mistakes today, Katniss. Murphy's law."
"So you came home and cut through all the fruit cake like a mad man to look for the ring?" I say, finally giving him a half-smile. His day was apparently as terrible if not more screwed up than mine.
"Yes, more like a caveman who first saw a birthday cake. It took me an hour and a half until I found it on the very last fruit cake. I was so relieved when I sliced it and hit some metal. That's why I had the music on. Then you pushed the door open as I was drying it by the sink with the towel."
"So now the ring is in the drainpipe?" I joke and grin at him.
"Unbelievable as it is … yes. I don't think the universe wants me to propose today, Katniss, but I won't have it. I just won't. And now, even without a ring, I would still like to do it ... Will you allow me?"
I think for a moment but then kick myself for why I'm stalling. "Well, you're already on your knees, so yes, I'll allow it."
The rest was history, I guess you could say. I answered Peeta with a resounding yes and a sweet kiss on his full lips as tears fell down his pink cheeks. We celebrated with more hugs and kisses on the living room couch, a bowlful of crumbled fruit cake, and a shared tub of vanilla ice cream. It's then followed by Peeta dismantling the pipes of our bathroom sink so he could recover my engagement ring in the sink trap.
With shaking hands and in the safety of our bed, Peeta finally puts the simple gold band on my finger. It's still shiny and undamaged by the adventure it had today. Perhaps it's symbolic of what our married life will be. Unyielding, resilient, and can always find a way to make things work out. I hope it is because I absolutely want to keep my boy with the bread.
It's been a terrible and exhausting day, but nothing beats how our day ended. Nothing could stop Peeta Mellark from proposing today, and that's how I know his love for me is real. Always.
