"Katniss! I'm so sorry I'm late!" I barely hear Annie call to me over the hustle of the crowd in the diner, her small frame skating between tables of patrons who not an hour ago were hassling me for their orders.
Prim must have mentioned something to Annie after my nightmare because no sooner than the next day, Annie was on the phone convincing me to grab a late dinner with her tonight and catch up. I'd agreed half-heartedly, my tired mind unable to try to come up with an excuse so that I could go home and sleep instead.
I won't lie: I like Annie, but this last week has nearly gutted me in terms of my energy. The nightmares haven't really stopped, though they've gotten less intense. I still dream about standing graveside, the hot tears waking me up though I'm thankfully silent when I do. It's not comforting to sleep so much lately now. On top of that, my lack of time to see Peeta is really catching up with me. Especially in the small hours of the morning where all I want is him next to me, his skin touching mine and his breath on my neck.
"Wow, it's gross outside let me tell you!" Annie interrupts my thoughts, dropping into the booth across from me and setting down her bag and raincoat. When she looks up, she frowns minutely and I can only watch as her eyes flick over me. "Prim said you weren't sleeping but Katniss, if I can be honest, you look like crap."
I laugh, a great burst of feeling bringing me close to the edge of sanity, as I'm surprised by her words and the forwardness with which she hands me a judgement.
"Katniss?" She asks again quieter this time, her voice barely breaking into my laughter. I can sense her hesitation and I shut my mouth with a snap, my cheeks flaming red as I consider how I've just behaved.
If I wasn't so tired...
"Sorry, I didn't – "
"Don't worry about it. That was pretty abrupt of me, but I just guess I was surprised is all. How are you doing?" Annie settles into her seat, her easy change of pace and the way that her eyes almost see through me has my shoulders relaxing and my mind seeming to calm without much effort. I glance off to the right, my fingers ripping hazardously at the napkin as I consider what to say.
Does honesty make a difference here?
What am I even doing?
"Okay, how about I start? I'm not getting nearly enough sex right now and it's really bumming me out. Now you go." My mouth drops open at her words, my gaze zeroing in on hers as she laughs, waving over one of my co-workers and asking for a round of nachos and some water. After the girl has departed, Annie smiles encouragingly at me and sits, waiting.
It's another moment before I can put into words what's drowning me.
"I think I'm losing my mind," I mutter and flick a piece of napkin onto the floor. Annie nods emphatically, her hands gesturing for me to continue. "I'm not even sure what to say. Annie, you barely know me, I can't just dump this stuff on you."
"See, that's where you're wrong Katniss. I know you well enough. I know you hold your cards close to your chest and that you play hard to get to know. You're fiercely independent and loyal beyond belief. You've had a hard life and now you're being thrown curveball after curveball, all while you try to keep it together to be strong for the ones you care about the most. Sure, we might not have been best girlfriends for years, but I know enough about you to have your game understood. I get it better than you think. So why don't we start from the beginning and I can put my master's degree to work?" She links her fingers together before her and I catch her sweet smile and gentle eyes, her whole demeanor promising to listen and be fair.
I need someone.
The thought cracks into me like a bolt of lightning and I realize that it's true. I need someone to listen to me, other than one I'm trying to protect or the one I'm trying not to fall too hard for.
"The money issue seems to be the crux of it all," I start, pausing and trying to right my thoughts. For Annie to understand I need to tell her from the beginning, about Prim's diagnosis and her wavering depression, about the money situation eating through our meagre savings and my fears of losing control.
"I totally understand the money dance, trust me," Annie states when I pause for a breath. She nods around her chips and flashes her hands to show she's got more to say. "Finnick and I just started to get things under control financially and out of nowhere some asshole in the capitol went and jerked our funding. We'll get it back, but right now we have to strap it down. It sucks, but Katniss, you can't give up everything forever. Like these nachos – they're what I'm choosing to not give up right now, you see?"
"Yeah, but isn't it different? I'm trying to provide for both of us and make sure Prim gets the best chance she can with everything going on. I'm choosing to do this, it's just..." I groan, and Annie listens as I ramble on about what's going on with our apartment and the wish I have for some selfish semblance of privacy.
"Katniss, I have to stop you here for a second. I really am trying to let you get through everything but I need to tell you that you are so far away from selfish for wanting your own space right now. That's like the anti-selfish, okay?" By this point Annie is a third of the way through her nachos, the orange cheddar hardening on the plate as I look down on it. I hear her words but I can't deny the way I feel.
"I don't know how to stop feeling like it's self-centred though. I know we can't afford it, logically, so it is selfish to want a bedroom because that would mean putting Prim out for my own gain – "
"You are being ridiculous. That's not selfishness. That's self-preservation. Have you ever thought that maybe sleeping on that rickety old pull-out is making it harder for you to get any real rest? Or that working all of these extra hours is catching up with you? Which you are doing because you won't let Prim get a job. It's – " Annie shakes her head, her hand coming up to point at me abruptly. "Prim is getting a job at the centre, I've already put in the paperwork, and you're going to take a turn in that bedroom by the end of the month."
"That's not going to happen," I argue, my head shaking in denial.
"She is going to work. It will be good for her, and you will use that room even if I have to come over there and carry Prim out myself. Katniss, you're not doing either of you any favours by burning yourself out. Prim is a an adult and she understands, okay?"
Considering her words, I sip on my water and let the cool ice roll around my mouth. I understand what she's saying, it makes total sense, but the idea is so foreign to me that I find it hard to digest. I haven't put myself first since I came home – when I got the call from Prim, everything just sort of stopped for me again, just like it had when our father died.
"So now that we've got that taken care of, which will hopefully settle the sleeping issue you're having, why don't we talk about what I have been wanting to talk about since Peeta mentioned you before the bowling night?" For the second time tonight I find my eyes meeting hers, my brows lifted and my mouth slightly ajar as she smiles innocently at me. We stare each other down for another moment before she lifts a large piece of nacho to her lips and tips her head towards me, her wordless gesture telling me go on.
"Um, well..." I start hesitantly, not too sure of what exactly to say. Is Peeta okay with me talking about him? I consider then that he's already talked about me to Annie, or at least to Finnick, and that was a long time ago. Biting my lip nervously, I grab for a nacho and stuff it in my mouth to buy me more time. Annie laughs in response but remains wordless, waiting. "Okay fine. I like him. I think he's great. I hate that I can't actually see him more because we're both so busy and it pisses me off. Is that what you want to hear?"
Annie laughs louder now, her hand held to her chest and her body shuddering with the effort. When she's done she smiles at me and nods, her fingers tapping on the table.
"I wanted to hear you say it. Peeta cannot stop talking about you at the centre. Okay, he can because he knows you're a private person, but you can see it on his face every time he gets a text from you or someone mentions you. You don't even know the effect you have, do you?"
"I didn't – " I shrug half-heartedly, a small smile of my own creeping up on me. "I just want to see him more, is that so wrong?"
"Not even a little. I remember when I moved here and saw Finnick for the first time since high school. It was like a magnet for us and I wanted to see him all the time. But there were... things we had to work through and it was hard." Pausing, I watch as Annie lifts her hands to cover her eyes, her fingers pressing into her brow.
"Annie?" I ask after a moment, her name seeming to interrupt her thoughts. Pulling away her fingers she looks at me sadly, her eyes distant.
"I want to tell you something but I don't want to scare you away or change your mind about anything," she whispers across the table, her voice strained. I frown, nerves rising up as she shifts uncomfortably. "Just promise to hear me out, okay?"
"What are you talking about, Annie?" I prompt uncertainly.
"I'm talking about what happened with Finnick and me, and what I hope Peeta and you never have to deal with. Did Peeta ever tell you about us?"
A shiver runs down my spine as Annie begins to talk. Her voice wavers, fragile and distant as though recalling a dream. She tells me about discovering Finnick, her high school crush, living in the city that she had just moved to. The connection for them had been almost instant, though Annie had pushed him away. She'd known then that there was something he wasn't telling her, something that would change things.
"But you can only deny yourself for so long, you know?" Annie asks carefully. I nod because I do know – how many times have I thought about Peeta like that? "When I found out Finnick was a sex worker it threw me through a loop. He started when he couldn't make ends meet – it was just supposed to be a few Craigslist ads. But then he got dragged in more and more and I guess when you're in deep you just get stuck. He was trying to get out, he never lied about that, but his boss was a real mean fuck. Kept him in the game for too many tricks."
I try not to imagine Finnick in chains, my vicious imagination running wild. I can't though, especially not as Annie paints the picture of the room where they both were tested for sexually transmitted infections. Or where they both turned up with negative tests for HIV.
"It was negative and he was out of the game and so we thought, we're okay. We can live our lives. But then things got bad."
"Annie, what are you saying?" I ask carefully, not sure I really want the answer. I know what's going to happen next but if I keep denying it I hope it won't – I need it to not – be real.
"He was positive the whole time, Katniss. It was probably an early infection so it just didn't show up on the test. When Finnick got a stomach bug that would not get better we found out not only that he was HIV positive but he had infected me as well. I guess we both foolishly got into this mess, but it's the hardest thing we've ever had to get past. I'm telling you this because I want you to know it happens – it happened to us – and I want you to think about it all before... Well, just make safe choices, okay?"
I feel my stomach moving uneasily, the minimal nachos I've eaten shifting with the anxiety that comes with Annie's words.
She hadn't meant to scare me, I was sure of that, but her truth had made my thoughts race and my uncertainties rise. By the time I say goodbye to Annie that night, her sighs about going home to a miserably sick-with-a-cold Finnick making me roll my eyes, all I can think about is wanting to see Peeta, needing to see him, before the night is through and I have a change of heart.
Without really even thinking about it, I find myself at Peeta's door after a calming walk through the deadened streets. I knock once, twice, before the door is pulled open and Peeta's surprised face is staring at me, his mouth wide and his hair askew.
"How – it's so late, Katniss. How did you get here?" he stutters, pulling me inside, his hands resting on my shoulders. I must look a wreck because his face softens and his hands brush comfortingly across my cheeks.
"I needed to see you, I guess," I whisper in return, my body moving from foot to foot awkwardly.
"Why don't you come in and have some tea and we'll talk?" Peeta suggests after another moment and I follow him easily. I toe my shoes off at the door and shuffle across the floors, my eyes on the flimsy socks that cover my feet and barely hide the pink of my skin. "What's got you all shaken up? If I can ask?" He pulls down mugs and puts the water on to boil. I stand at the stove beside him, my eyes drawn to his hands as they pull the tea bags loose.
"I was with Annie tonight...and I've been missing you, I think," I reply. Peeta looks towards me and smiles, a small quirk of his lips.
"She told you about their situation, didn't she?" He leans casually against the counter beside me, his hand placed next to mine though not quite touching.
"Yeah. I just couldn't – How do they... I don't know. Peeta, what are we doing? I mean, kissing and having dinner and hanging out, don't get me wrong I love all of that, but..." I pause and huff, turning and pacing away anxiously before turning back to him. "What are we doing? Are we going to... Are you okay with that even?"
We both stand silently, surprised at the forward way I've flung my current worries out in the open for scrutiny. I feel my face heat up as the seconds pass, my body on fire with embarrassment as Peeta stares me down. Behind him, the kettle begins to scream it's warning and my nerves fire, my fists caught at my sides.
It's only two steps away and I reach for him, one hand grasping desperately at the burner dial and the other coming up to grab the collar of his shirt to bring him towards me. He stands pliant in my arms, his frame steady and moving yet unwilling to return the gesture. My breaths against his neck run hot and with both arms wrapped tightly around him I pull his face down to mine.
The kiss seems to snap him from his moment, his hands coming to hold my hips and press me back against the counter. I feel his tongue lick against my lips and press its way into my mouth, no hesitation on my part to stop him.
With the bite of the counter pressing into my back and the pressure of his thumbs on my pelvis I groan at the feeling that now is nearly overwhelming me. I want this, oh do I want this. I want Peeta, I want him close to me. I don't care what Annie said, I don't care about that right now because all I want is this.
"We need to talk about things, Katniss," Peeta whispers through tiny pecks from his lips. I can feel him try to pull back from my embrace, his body distancing us though I swear I can feel how much he doesn't want to. I hold on for a minute longer before letting him pull back.
His eyes are dark, his brows furrowed before he turns away from me and fills the mugs with the hot water. We don't move from the kitchen, our feet frozen to the floor as we sip the burning water and stare at each other.
"I'm afraid, Katniss. I want – I want this so much but I'm afraid of what will happen. I feel like maybe I've been waiting my whole life for you, just you, and now you're here and I can't because even though I want to – I want to be with you so badly – I can't. I don't know – I..."
His words catch me off balance, their blunt nature so unlike the usual way he paints a picture for me. Watching him, he twists the tea bag string between his fingers like a nervous twitch belying the fragile thoughts that he's just laid out for me.
"I don't want to be like Finnick with us – "
"You're not anything like –"
"No, listen, wait. Katniss, I don't want to give it to you. I'm terrified of being the person who gives it to someone. I have been since I knew I was positive and had to try to remember who in the hell I did drugs with – do you know how hard it is to remember people when you're shooting up? To even know their names? The people interviewing me from the Department of Health, they try to be nice but you can see it, they're mad you don't know and they're disgusted with you. It's the same with everyone else who knows – they're afraid and it only feeds back into you. If they're afraid, clearly you're dangerous. It's the same mentality that got me fired – I could have easily controlled that situation at school if I just had my fears in line but I didn't. I'm so afraid of going further because even though I know the realities and I can spout the information, I'm still walking around with poison in my body. Poison that could hurt you." His tone changes dramatically from start to finish, his body language changing as though gearing for a fight. I watch him carefully as he riles himself up, refusing to play into the way he is feeding off of something dark inside him.
I don't speak until my tea is finished and I'm busy placing my mug in the sink, my body turned away from his.
"Peeta, isn't it my choice too?" I ask quietly. The tension that's been building up in me whenever I see him, whenever I think about the touch of his hands or the feel of his lips, seems to roll off of me in waves.
"Yes, but – "
"Don't say it. I want you to think about it. How can I help?" I step towards him carefully, aware still of the way his body remains frozen in place. Taking the mug from his hands I place it on the counter and reach for his hand.
"I don't know," he whispers in return. The defeat in his voice, the way his shoulders sag, makes my chest hurt.
"Can we sleep on it?" I ask and look up, waiting for him to meet me halfway. I know we won't do anything tonight, it's too much for right now, but I want him close to me and I want to feel his body next to mine and know he's there. It will comfort me. Maybe it will comfort him too.
AN: You know, I'm sorry this took so long! I went away to New York for a wedding last week and I've just been crazy busy with my new job and everything. So here, ENJOY!