It was late when the Odairs' party finally wrapped up. Peeta was bagging up trash in the garden when Annie waved off their firie buddy Kyle and his husband Thom, the last of the guests apart from himself and Katniss.
Peeta wanted nothing more than to get Katniss alone, but he couldn't in good conscience leave the Odairs with a huge mess, especially knowing that Annie was particular about cleanliness and Finnick… was not.
"Come sit, Annie," Katniss said, her husky voice floating out through the patio doors to wrap around Peeta. The pretty little doc had him tied up in knots with her sexy voice and perky boobs and legs that went on forever.
Peeta laughed to himself. It was more than just her looks, and he knew it. Something about Katniss excited him on a new level. He'd been watching her, lounging with Annie, chatting with his mates and their wives, fitting so smoothly into the life he loved. For a few moments, he thought about what it would be like to have her there permanently, by his side at all of the parties, in his bed every night. It was a bloody beautiful vision. But he wasn't DADS, he knew it was impossible.
Reentering the house, he was enormously pleased to see that Katniss had settled Annie into a kitchen chair, then had rolled up her metaphorical sleeves and attacked the dishes. She had a strong work ethic, his girl, and it was obvious she cared deeply. Peeta reckoned that's why she went into medicine in the first place.
Annie was grinning, chatting easily with Katniss. When she saw him come in, her smile widened. "Peet, you don't have to do that."
"Of course I do, beautiful Annie," he said.
"I should send you kids off to have fun," Annie sighed. "But I can't turn down the free help."
It didn't take that long, really, to have Annie's place back in shape. Finn wandered in and out, cracking jokes and making half-hearted attempts to help, most of which were the opposite of helpful. Katniss smiled at their shenanigans. She smiled more often now, Peeta noticed. Despite the overwork, she seemed happier.
He liked it.
He helped her into his Ute, and she held his hand across the seat the whole drive home. She was quiet, but Peeta figured she was just tired. And though he wanted—badly—to take her back to his place and make her scream all night long, he instead pulled into her drive.
He turned off the engine, and turned to her, hoping to at least steal a kiss or ten, and maybe...
"Why do they treat you like that?" Katniss interrupted his musing, and he frowned. "They don't take you seriously. Like you're the life of the party—"
"I am the life of the party," Peeta interrupted, waggling his brows suggestively.
"Don't," Katniss said, her eyes wide in the streetlight's glow. "Don't put on a show. Not with me." Peeta sobered, and Katniss continued. "They treat you like you're incapable of being serious, all of them. It's like they don't even see you."
Peeta sighed, gathering his thoughts. It's not like he'd never thought about it, but it was hard to explain to someone else, especially her. But the darkness was a shield, a warm blanket, protecting him.
"When I was a kid," he started, barely a whisper, "my parents didn't get along. My mum in particular, she was shirty." He paused at her confused expression. "Ill-tempered," he clarified. "Anyway, I figured out pretty early that joking around defused a lot of tension. And it was fun, being that bloke. The party guy, the one everyone wanted to hang out with." He smiled, just lightly. It had been fun. His teenage years had been a blast, same with uni.
"Eventually, my brothers and I grew up, and dad and mum moved to the city. I didn't need to be that guy anymore. But old habits die hard. And Panem is a small place, where everybody knows everybody. So once they thought of me as a joke, I couldn't shake it, no matter how much I changed." He shrugged. "It's not bad, really. I have a good life, lots of friends. I'm well-liked."
"But not well-known," she said softly. "Or not deeply known."
It felt like a blow, how easily she had stripped away his veneer, seen the nervous little boy beneath, the lad who just wanted everyone to like him. No one else had done that. The other women he'd dated, he'd given them what they expected. Good times, lots of fun, no heavy stuff. But also no depth. They'd never looked past his fun side, but that had never bothered him.
Until now.
"Maybe not," he agreed softly.
"It's their loss," she said, leaning across the centre console and pressing her lips to his jaw. "You're something special, Peeta Mellark."
Then she led him inside and showed him just how special she thought he was.