The next day I decide to take Peeta to the lake. I'm still trying to make up for my drunken fit. The only person here to talk to about it is Haymitch, but I don't think this is a comfortable area for him yet. Since our family left for the Capitol, he's spent his days hauled up in his house, working on some project. I have no idea what it is, but he's being very secretive.
I pack a picnic basket for our trip. I include leftover rabbit from Sunday's dinner, a fresh green salad, some crusty bread, and a goat cheese pastry. I'll admit, Peeta made most of this food, but I am packing it so it's sort of like I made lunch. Peeta is upstairs showering. It's kind of silly, considering we will get sweaty on the hike and we are probably swimming, but the boy is a creature of habit. He blames his father.
Once I finish packing, I head upstairs and sit bouncing on the bed waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. When the door creaks open, all he's wearing is a towel wrapped around his waist and he's vigorously rubbing a smaller towel through his wet hair. He's absolutely beautiful. My eyes trail down his stomach, over his arms. Peeta obviously didn't realize I was there, because he jumps back in fright when he sees me sitting on the bed.
"Oh my God, you scared me," he says, clasping his chest. "I thought you were downstairs."
"Do you shower with your leg on?" I tease.
"Oh," he smiles. "No, but I wore it in, so… What exactly are you staring at Katniss? You seem like you're in a trance."
"Nothing!" I feel the heat of a blush race to my cheeks. "Just wanted you to know I'm ready when you are." I flit out of the room and bounce down the stairs. Peeta comes down after a few minutes and we head into the woods.
I feel like I'm myself whenever I'm out here. I sneak my bow and arrow from a log, but quickly realize Peeta is just as loud as ever. I don't bother hunting, we just walk through the woods and talk. Peeta tells me about these new paint supplies Effie will be bringing back from the Capitol for him. Apparently they talk on the phone every night. She and Delly have been spending all their time taking in as much "culture" as they can before they are back to what Effie lovingly refers to as "the wastelands of District 12." They haven't seen much of Gale and Johanna, who've spent most of their time in their room. Peeta winks at me and I slap his arm.
"I wonder what Haymitch is working on at his house?" I postulate.
"I have no idea. I'm just worried he's going to burn the house down. When he was drunk I used to just unplug his stove and then I wouldn't have to worry so much. Sober Haymitch has figured out how to plug it back in," Peeta jokes. He tells me a story about one time when he and one of his brothers almost burned down the bakery. We are both in tears laughing when he describes his oldest brother ratting them out to his mother. I know the story is going to take a darker turn. He gets quiet.
"Then what happened?" I ask.
Peeta just shakes his head and keeps walking.
"Peeta?" I speed up my pace and take his hand. "Look at me."
He stops walking and looks at the forest floor. He kicks a small stick with his shoe. I grab both sides of his face and force his eyes to mine.
"I'm sorry," I say.
He breaks away from me and digs his toe into the earth. "It was a long time ago, Katniss. You have nothing to be sorry about."
"I threw something at you." He's quiet. I step forward and weave my fingers through his. "I will never, ever, do anything like that ever again. I am not her. I will never hurt you."
"You probably would have said the same thing before the dance, too. That you'd never do that." He's right, I would have. "Look, it's fine. I just don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's go to the lake." He starts to walk away. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him into me.
"Peeta, I love…" He cuts me off.
"Don't do that. Don't say that now. Don't ruin that for me. If you say it now, I'll always wonder if it was because you really wanted to say it, or because you felt like you had to." He's frustrated now. "I get it, you know? The owing thing. I may not be from the Seam, but I don't want you to say that because you owe me something." He turns to me and looks me right in the eyes. "When you say that to me, I want it to be because you are so madly in love with me that you can't not say it. Because it's real. Not because you owe me." He turns to walk away from me, and I grab his hand.
"I will never hurt you," I look him dead in the eye.
"Don't make a promise you can't keep."
"I'm not." I kiss him softly. I feel him let go, and he exhales into my mouth.
"Okay."
The rest of the walk is mostly in silence, until we come upon the lake. Peeta's never been out here. The residents of District 12 are still leary about the woods for the most part, and those that aren't steer clear of this area. Too many painful memories from after the firebombing. For me, though, it reminds me of my father.
"Sometimes it's almost like I can still feel my dad when I'm out here," I say as I drag a finger across the surface of the water.
"Sometimes I go to where the bakery used to be. I try to find my dad, but I can't."
"I didn't know you did that, Peeta," I say. He gives me a small smile.
"Remember when you taught me how to swim?" Peeta asks.
"You think you can swim?" I chide.
"I can keep my head above water."
"Barely." I stand up and slip out of my clothes. I catch Peeta watching me in my undergarments. "Turn around!" I chastise. I silently glide into the water. I relax my body and allow its natural buoyancy to float me to the surface. "I always think of Finnick out here." I say to no one in particular. It's not to Peeta. It's just a statement.
I pull myself closer to shore, where Peeta sits sketching the water.
"I was really surprised Johanna could swim," I say. "After, you know…"
"That's not how they hurt her," Peeta says nonchalantly, as if the thought of watching Johanna be tortured isn't so horrific I want to vomit in the water. He looks up from his sketchbook and sees my face. "I just mean she wasn't submerged. It's the drops… like in a shower…"
"Or in the rain," I say, remembering her fight with Gale.
"Yeah, it's the sensation of the droplets hitting her skin."
I don't want to know what that even means. Peeta returns to drawing. I swim around a bit and make my way back to him. I float with my fingertips on the ground in the shallow water by the shore.
"Whatcha drawing?" I ask. He turns the sketchpad to me. He's drawn me with a fin, gliding underwater. "Am I a…" I try to draw the word out from the children's books in my memory - "A mermaid?" He smiles and nods his head.
I fidget in the water. "Come swim with me…" I flirt. I'm flirting.
"I thought I didn't know how to swim?" Peeta responds. I roll my eyes, but he pulls his shirt over his head and joins me in the water.
"Cold! Cold! Very cold!" He's on his tiptoes and trying to keep his arms above water.
"Welcome to swimming in September. Hot days, cold nights."
"You're lucky I like you," he says and finally submerges his arms and dunks his head underwater. We splash around for a bit. I teach Peeta a couple different maneuvers in the water. After he completes an impressive lap of butterfly strokes, I swim over and drape my arms around his neck. Our bodies are cold, and I wrap my legs around his waist and pull myself into him. It's quiet. All we can hear is the slow splash of the water on our bodies.
I lean down and kiss Peeta. Slowly. Deliberately. He kisses me back. It's still. It's peaceful and beautiful and my mind slips back. To the bread. To the dandelion. To the Reaping. To the Games. To the cave. To the train. To the roof. To the beach. To midnight. To losing each other, and finding our way back again. It's always been Peeta. I fought it. I pushed back. But it's always been Peeta. He feels it too because our delicate kissing transforms into something heated and passionate. I'm all over him, and he's all over me. I'm breathing erratically and digging my nails into his back, trying to claw him closer to me. I need him so much closer.
Peeta's hands skim the edge of my underwear. My heart is pounding. I feel like it may explode from my chest. His eyes are glued to mine. He's asking me without words. I nod my head and his hand slips into my panties. I gasp. I feel like it's echoing across the silent lake, and so I press my mouth in the crook of Peeta's neck just as he slips a finger inside me. I moan into his skin and he presses a kiss against my throat. He moves his finger slowly inside me and I feel myself slightly thrusting against him. He curls another finger in and I groan. I'm panting as he pulls his hand in and out. I knot my fingers in his curls. He moans into my hair.
The sudden crack of a branch in the woods has Peeta and I leaping apart from one another. When we realize it's nothing, we both look at each other and laugh. We get out of the lake. My wet underclothes are clinging to my fire mutt body. But Peeta's matches mine. Every lick of fire that has consumed my flesh has lapped his as well. We are a pair. I smile at him, and it's the most real smile I've ever given in my life. He's absolutely elated, and grins back.