It wasn't necessarily awkward. I didn't feel like anything was weird or different between us. But the silence was definitely uncomfortable.
Especially when I heard a deep masculine ahem from the direction of the door.
"H-haymitch?" I stammered, whipping my head up and scooting out of Peeta's space.
"Do you need something?" I managed to get out. Haymitch looked at Peeta, one eyebrow raised. He was obviously looking to see what the boy has to say for himself. For once, however, Peeta didn't speak up.
"What's the matter, boy? Katniss got your tongue?" Haymitch snorted at his crass joke.
"Haymitch.." I growled, scowling at him. He smirked.
"Mellark?" Peeta stood, clearing his throat.
"Hi Haymitch, is anything wrong?" Haymitch blinked, his eyes squinting at Peeta, assessing him. I guess he was satisfied with what he saw, because he waved his hand around, mumbling something that sounded like "carry on, use protection." I felt a blush overtaking me.
"He doesn't like me." Peeta chuckled softly.
"Nah, he doesn't like anyone." I say dismissively. I grabbed my makeup together, shoving it into a large tub that I slide under my sink. I ignored Peeta's cringe at my disregard for order and safety. I passed him on my way to my dresser, rummaging through for an acceptable outfit for the dinner party we were going to as a celebration for my win at Snow's. I decided a shimmery low-cut halter-neck would look good with some designer (courtesy of Effie) dark wash skinnies. I peeled off my socks, shooting the each rumpled one into my hamper with little effort. Peeta grinned and clapped slowly.
"Pretty good shot." I smirked, glad he hadn't added "for a girl" onto the end of that.
"Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me." I smirked, swiping my clothes from the dresser and closing my bathroom door behind me. I heard Peeta sit back down on my bed, followed by the clicks of his phone keyboard as he typed. I examined the finished effect in the full length mirror facing me. I reached for the zipper between my shoulder blades, grunted when my fingers didn't make contact with it. Stupid zippers.
"Peeta?" He got up, coming over to the door.
"Are you okay?" I rolled my eyes, snorting softly.
"No, I accidentally fell into the bathtub." I said sarcastically. I heard his soft laugh.
"What do you need?"
"Can you zip me?" I asked, holding my top up above my chest and turning so he could see the unzipped portion of my top.
"Sure." He said, putting one hand on my back to keep the top in place while he pulled the zipper closed. When he finished, his arms came around my waist, and I felt his lips against my throat.
"All set. You look beautiful."
"Thank you. Can you do my face please?" I begged, looking at myself in the mirror and not pleased with the reflection.
"Of course."
I'm never prepared for the way he looks at me whenever he does my makeup. I don't think I'll ever get used to it.
He always frowns in concentration, watching his hands work intently. This time, a soft blush creeped onto his cheeks as he painted my lips with a light peach color. I couldn't help but notice the way he beamed at me when he finished.
"All done." He said, patting my cheek and standing. I smiled, grabbing the stupid clutch Effie made me bring and the black blazer that always made me feel like a lawyer.
"You ready to hit the city?" He asked, grinning. I groaned.
"The sooner we start, the sooner it's over." We left my room.