She tastes the eggs that Sae had fried. But not really. Because they don't taste like eggs at all, just ash and dust and misery.
He tried to eat on the train, but it was all tasteless to him. Like cardboard, apprehension, and anxiety.
KPKPKPKPKPKP
She startles from her nightmare, swapping the sleeping terror for the waking one. It's as if she can taste the ashes and dirt from her dream. Perhaps that is what pushes her out the door, trying to find out which ghost is outside, ready to throw more dirt in her mouth.
Salt, sweat, dirt. Those tastes mingle around in his mouth as he digs. First he digs the primroses out of their spot in the forest, then he digs a hole to plant them in on the side of this desolate house. As he stops to wipe the sweat from his face before it streams into his mouth, he sees her standing there. To see her alive, even if not well, is like taking a cold drink of water on a hot day.
KPKPKPKPKPKP
The eggs have flavour today. She's not sure if it's the added bacon grease, or the boy who sits near her. For the first time in so long, if ever, she thinks hope is near. So near she can almost taste it.
The bacon and eggs are the best thing he thinks he's eaten in years. Because she's here. He wasn't sure what to expect, but when he showed up, loaf of bread in hand, she was sitting at the table. He's not sure, but he hopes it's the start of something.
KPKPKPKPKPKP
She comes across the blackberry bushes she and Gale would eat from on one of their many excursions. The sweetness reminds her of summers gone by, of a different time with different people. And in that instant, the taste in her mouth changes from one of sweetness to one of bitterness.
He's burned the bread again. Ever since he returned to the district, he's been baking and baking and baking, trying to perfect what he used to be able to do in his sleep. But the burned bread reminds him of his mother.
Ugh. You stupid boy! You burned the bread again. When will you learn to pay attention to what you're doing? We can't afford this waste!
He ate many loaves of burnt bread, the ashy taste meant to 'teach him a lesson'. Except there was that one loaf. The one he was supposed to feed to the pigs. He fed her instead.
KPKPKPKPKPKP
Sae has somehow gotten ahold of some oranges, leaving them for Katniss to eat. Without much thought, she peels one, separates the slices, and bites into the juicy section. Immediately she thinks of Gale, and his kiss that tasted like oranges. She quietly gets up and walks upstairs, shutting herself into her room. She doesn't come out for three days. Between the blackberries and the oranges, she doesn't think she can face the ghosts of past Gale anymore.
He startles awake and checks the clock. 4:30 in the morning, might as well wake up. What was that dream? For the first time in he doesn't know how long, it wasn't a dream of mutts and blood and death, but of his family. They were in the bakery, everything in black and white and all of the goods were mouldy. His mother stood in the middle of the shop swinging a broom at him and yelling, "No you can't eat that! It's for the customers you idiot!"
He's not sure what's worse, a dream about mutts, or a dream about his dead family. He gets up out of bed, his mouth sour tasting from the night's sleep, and the bile that came up during that dream. He moves down to the kitchen. Another day, more baking. It's what he does best these days.
He can't shake the feeling he's had since he woke. All he can focus on is the apple and goat cheese tart they used to make. He makes a phone call and later that day Sae brings him apples and goat cheese. It's an obsession by this point.
Once it's out of the oven and cooled, he cuts himself a piece. It tastes of stale baked goods, and of that cave in the first arena. He leaves the rest on the counter for Sae. He spends the rest of the day and night in his studio, painting his memories.
It gives him an idea.
KPKPKPKPKPKP
She finds the mint growing not far from the stream. In an instant she remembers, and a small smile crosses her face. She remembers how chewing on a mint leaf, then drinking the water makes it seem that much cooler, fresher, sweeter. She's beginning to enjoy the woods again, remembering the flavors she could forage from it's depths. The ghosts of the past are beginning to recede, she's herself here once again.
His counter is full. Cakes and breads and tarts are all laid out. Sae comes in, "Well, sir! Just look at you."
"I was thinking…" He says unsure.
"I think it's a great idea," she tells him with a smile, patting his hand.
"I'll go talk to Thom then. Tell him I definitely want the site."
"Good plan, son," she nods. "People will be glad to have fresh goods again. It's been too long."
"I'll need a taste tester though," he says with a smile. "Do you think your granddaughter will be up to it?"
The old lady leaves with a laugh and a promise. She tells him how glad she is to see him coming back.
KPKPKPKPKPKP
Her first squirrel is frying on the stove, wild roots are roasting in the oven. It's a feast fit for a king, whatever that means she thinks. She just remembers her mother saying that when she was younger, when her father was still bringing in so much from the forest. Now she's used herbs she found in the woods to flavor the food, and her mother's old recipes to guide her. For a moment she thinks about her mother, wondering how she's getting along in 4. When they speak, she's always chipper, always happy to talk. But underneath Katniss thinks she feels something different, though she doesn't quite know what it is. They've reached a new understanding, mother and daughter. They realize they truly are cut from the same cloth. Once Katniss accepted this, it was easier to accept her mother living in 4 while she was stuck in 12. Not that it doesn't sting from time to time, but still. Easier.
He bites into the squirrel and smiles at her. "Katniss, it tastes better than I remember." And he eats the rest of the meal in silence, letting his chewing do the talking. He doesn't have as much to say these days, but he doesn't feel the need to say as much either. The silences are golden, spending time with each other says it all.
KPKPKPKPKPKP
When she thinks of Gale, she thinks of ashes and oranges and despair. That's the taste he left.
When she thinks of Peeta, she thinks of dill and cinnamon, of bread and apples. She thinks of fresh green leaves and springtime. Where Gale left despair, Peeta leaves hope. Where Gale left ashes, Peeta leaves a foundation.
If he had to think of a word to describe her, as if just one word could, he'd have to say fresh. Like fresh grass growing in the meadow. Fresh fruit from the apple tree out back. Fresh water flowing in the stream just a mile or so into the woods. Fresh. Katniss. That's what she is now. Fresh.
KPKPKPKP
Come on!" She tells him impatiently. "There's something I want to show you!"
He's not sure what it is, but something pushes him on. He'll follow her, just about anywhere at this point. It's obvious, he knows.
"What could possibly be this urgent?" He asks. "Can't we even clean up here?" The remains of breakfast are spread around the kitchen. Crumbs from the toast, bacon grease splattered on the counter top.
He's been back four or five months now. Sae remarks almost every day at the improvement Katniss and Peeta have made since then. "Almost like she was waiting for something, boy," she says knowingly.
"Well, I guess it's not urgent, but I do want you to see it...Today," she adds with a smile.
Together they clean up the breakfast mess, pack some snacks in a couple of containers Katniss had laying around the house, and they head out into the forest.
As they reach a clearing, Katniss slows down a bit to let Peeta catch up. "Are these blueberries?" he asks in wonder.
"Yep! I know! I found them here last week. I think they're ripe enough to pick."
As they pick the berries, they eat. The tender, mealy berries burst with juice as he bites into them, They're sweet, but not too sweet. It gives him an idea.
She watches as he eats the berries. She can't help but observe how his mouth transforms. She wonders if they taste different in his mouth than they do hers. For a split second she thinks she'll kiss him to see.
Kiss him! She thinks. Where did that come from?
But if she's honest with herself, she'd know. Because in the months that he's been back, she's begun to wake up, finally wake up. Sae is right when she says that Katniss was waiting for something. Katniss is almost ready to admit it.
KPKPKPKPKPKPKP
Summer freshness gives way to the crisp taste of fall. The woods prepare to sleep for the winter, and Katniss knows to take full advantage of this opportunity. What she doesn't want to think about is what was happening a year ago. So she hunts. She hunts.
Peeta finds a wild apple tree in the woods one day. At least he thought he found it. But when he shows it to Katniss, she smiles and points out all of the trees around. He realizes this is where those brave enough would find those apples long ago. Or maybe just a few years. It doesn't really matter. He sits under the tree, eats an apple, and allows the taste to wash over him, and the memories that come, of a girl starving, of a goat cheese and apple tart, they don't hurt so much anymore.
KPKPKPKP
They manage the winter like they've managed everything. Together. The nightmares increase the closer it gets to the anniversary of that fateful day. When they wake up, the ground is covered in snow, and the memories just pull her down.
He makes breakfast, but they barely eat. The taste of everything seems to have disappeared. Later he makes lunch, then supper. It's all dust and ash and memory.
They decide to sleep instead.
KPKPKPKP
The next morning dawns bright and clear. The crisp taste of winter in the air though all he can taste is the staleness of his own breath. As he lays there, eyes closed, he feels what he can only describe as wet softness on his neck. "Buttercup! Go away!" He mumbles. But as he pushes, he discovers it's not Buttercup, but Katniss.
"You taste like home" she tells him. "You taste like my home."