A/N: Yet another moment of honesty: This is the most intimate thing I've written (like ever), and I really hope I did it some justice. My apologies for the delay, but thanks for your interest in this story. There's more to come! Stay tuned and happy reading.
Katniss traced her fingertips along the raised surface of the light gray damask wallpaper in the Mellark home. They'd just entered the door at the top of the stairs, which led into a modest living room with simple décor and a worn leather recliner. Peeta locked the door behind them, never letting go of her hand.
He walked her through the living room, past the dining room, and around a corner to a narrow hallway with hardwood floors and thick white baseboards. She counted five doors, all pulled shut, and squinted her eyes to see the family portrait at the end of the hall, which was taken in some yesteryear. The toddler in the woman's arms, was now leading her into his bedroom.
The lights were on, and she had a straight view to Peeta's bed, which was against the opposite wall in the corner. On one side of the bed was a curtain-less window with drawn blinds, and on the other side of the bed was a tall, metal and wood stand that held books, a globe, and his collection of wrestling plaques and trophies. His bed was covered by a striped navy and orange quilt; there was no headboard, but above his bed was a large sketch of the active line of a beating heart.
The entire room was carpeted, gray. An oak desk with numerous paint smudges was against the wall facing the window, and on the desk sat a small lamp and a Mason jar that had been painted blue and filled with an array of colored pencils.
Katniss turned her head to see what was on either side of the door behind her. On one side was an oak dresser and mirror and what she assumed was a closet door. But on the other side was a stunning painting of a sunset. It beckoned her, and she let go of Peeta's hand to walk closer, to study its abstract hues of orange and lavender and bluish gray. In the corner of the canvas were the initials "PM."
"Peeta," she said with squeezed brows, her eyes never leaving the canvas. "Did you paint this?"
He studied her from just inside the bedroom door. "Yes."
"This is… beautiful."
He walked behind her, enveloping her in his arms. "You really think it's beautiful?"
"Yes," she marveled.
"What about intriguing? Alluring? Just plain sexy?"
She chuckled as he kissed her temple. "Are we still talking about the painting?"
"Nope." He pecked a line of kisses down the rim of her ear. "I'm talking about a beauty that no artist could capture. But you can't blame a guy for trying."
"What?"
He pulled away, and Katniss watched Peeta walk to his closet, lean inside, and emerge with a rolled sheet of sketch paper the length of his forearm. The roll was neatly tied with red string. He walked back to where she stood and handed her the roll, a smile curling his lips.
"Happy Birthday, Katniss."
She froze. For Peeta's birthday in February, Katniss could only afford to make a sachet of winter herbs that she'd collected from the meadow to be used for a spicy tea that her mother made during colder months. Peeta loved his gift, but Katniss knew that whatever awaited her on that rolled sheet of sketch paper was far nicer than any collection of herbs.
"I'll be at Boggs on your birthday," he explained. "You didn't think I'd forgotten did you?"
She managed to shake her head, but she still hadn't taken the roll from him.
"Here," he grinned. "Open it."
She took the roll and untied the string. What awaited her was just as stunning as she feared. He'd sketched her in charcoal. It was an uncanny rendering; her face was turned to the viewer, her lips set in a bashful grin, her eyes teeming with seduction through a penetrating silver gaze. Peeta even captured the wispy tendrils at her hairline and the coarseness of the dark braid hanging over one shoulder.
She spoke his name on a breath and felt his arms encircling her waist from behind.
"This is… This is so…"
"Beautiful? Intriguing? Alluring? Just plain sexy?" He kissed the tender flesh behind her ear, his lips charting a sensual path down her neck as he spoke. "That's exactly who you are, babe, every part of you, and I'm so ready to make love to you tonight."
Every part of me? Beautiful and alluring and sexy…
Peeta's words, which should have made Katniss feel desirable, sent her into a tailspin instead. Her mind catapulted to the meeting room in the Justice Building with the Capitol's delegation, where Effie Trinket and her team determined that Katniss was 'a little on the thin side,' 'in need of a good grooming,' and that she should 'arrive early so we can give you the full treatment.'
Katniss remembered thinking in that moment that she didn't know what Peeta saw in her. But that was precisely the problem. He hadn't seen all of her. And now she was in his bedroom, and he was expecting to make love to a girl whose every part was beautiful and alluring and sexy. He didn't know it yet, but underneath it all, she was not who he expected.
My breasts are smaller than most girls my age. I don't have much in the area of womanly curves. And I need a ton of grooming. What was I thinking by agreeing to tonight? I'm not ready. I may never be ready. Peeta has been with other girls who really were beautiful and sexy; he won't want me once he sees all of me.
And she panicked, rolling her shoulder to her ear to shove away his lips and moving out of arm's reach. Peeta startled, completely stunned by her reaction, his arms still curved to where her body had been. He looked deeply apologetic.
"I'm sorry, Katniss. Did I do something wrong?"
She turned her back so he couldn't detect the pain and conflict on her face. She loved him, and she wanted this night more than anything. Now, they couldn't have it. Angry, unshed tears glistened in her eyes.
"Babe?"
Katniss squeezed her eyes shut, loathing the self-doubt she'd brought to his voice. He rounded her, his concerned eyes on her downcast face.
"Please tell me what I did."
She drew a shaky breath. "It's not you, Peeta, it's me. I'm not ready. I need treatments."
His eyes narrowed in confusion. Then, he gently pulled the drawing from her grasp, set it on his desk and, took her by the hand. "Come. Let's sit down for a moment."
They perched on the edge of his bed in uncertain silence as Katniss gnawed on her bottom lip.
"Talk to me, Katniss."
She exhaled in defeat. "I'm not the most beautiful, sexy, alluring girl in Panem. I'm none of those things. You're so kind to tell me that I am, but you haven't seen all of me. And if you do, you probably won't want me anymore because I need treatments to make me decent, and even they probably won't help that much." Disappointment and pain crisscrossed her face. "I want tonight so bad, but I shouldn't have agreed to it."
With furrowed brows he tried to process what he'd just heard. "So… you're talking about beauty treatments?"
She nodded.
"And who told you that you need these treatments?"
"The lady from the Capitol who came to fit me for my gown. And her entire crew agreed." She picked absently at a loose thread on his quilt. "Apparently, I'm such a mess that they'll have to do the works on me to make me presentable enough to sing a song."
Now he understood. She was in an active battle with insecurity, and in that moment, she was losing. Katniss was already so withdrawn. It made Peeta's jaw clench that someone whose idea of beauty was artificially-colored skin would make her doubt just how lovely she truly was.
He had to convince her, but he knew words wouldn't be enough. And the only approach he could think of in that moment could very well backfire. But he had to do something to keep her fears from dragging her out of his bedroom and, possibly, out of his life.
"Let me see."
Her head spun to him, her eyes wide with alarm. "What?"
"Let me see," he repeated calmly. "Let me see all of you."
She launched from the bed and anxiously paced the room.
"Haven't you been listening to me?! You've been with other girls who are everything you want, and I can't hold a candle to them."
"Katniss," he said calmly.
"No, Peeta." She was growing more agitated. "I'm not the girl for you. You deserve someone prettier, someone who can afford nice lotions and creams and who doesn't have to go home at night and sew up the holes in her mother's hand-me-down dresses. Someone who –"
"Katniss," he said firmly, and everything stopped. Her distressed eyes locked with his steady gaze. He stood from the bed and walked to her.
"I have loved and admired every version of you since we were five-years-old."
She could feel a surge of emotion, rising to her throat.
"From the fearless five-year-old who was eager to sing in front of her peers, to the bashful 16-year-old who only agreed to sing for the president to make her family proud. From the second grader with two missing front teeth who couldn't stop smiling during the traveling magic show at school, to the 11th grader who presses her lips to my chest to keep from laughing too loud while we hold one another in the alcove."
A single tear slipped down her cheek. She sniffed, blinking hard to ward off more.
"I love that the brave, resilient girl who took to the dangerous woods to help feed her family after the mine explosion is the same girl who avoids crowded halls at school like the plague."
A smile dawned on her lips as she dried her cheeks.
"The girl who finally caught me staring at her over a year ago, and who decided to smile back. It was that bashful, sexy smile that gave me the nerve to trick her biology lab partner to switch with me so that she and I could get to know one another while dissecting earthworms… and learning about the female menstrual cycle," he deadpanned with a comically arched eyebrow.
This time she laughed, heartily, at his facial expression and at the memory of that biology class. They started dating last summer, after that term. And until now, she thought that her assigned lab partner just wanted to work with someone else.
"The girl who loves her family, would die for her sister, and takes risks that she shouldn't have to take to spend a few minutes with her boyfriend who's from a different part of town. The girl who makes me feel alive."
Another tear fell. Peeta pointed to the heartbeat sketch above his bed.
"You see that drawing? I drew it after my first conversation with you during lab. And I put it over my bed as a reminder to never let society change me, to never settle for someone I didn't love when the girl I do love – the girl I've always loved – was looking into the microscope right next to me. You're right, Katniss. I have dated other girls, most times just for the sex. I was trying to be like my brothers, and it wasn't working for me. I craved something real. Someone real. And that person has always been you."
She covered her mouth with her palm as more tears fell.
"Now if you're not ready to make love, we'll wait. No problem, no questions asked. But if you truly want to make love tonight, then tonight is ours. I haven't seen all of you, but I want to because I have love to give to all of you."
Katniss briefly covered her face with her hands, applying pressure to her eyelids to quell the tears. Then, she dried her cheeks and reached for his face with both hands, planting a lingering, salty kiss to Peeta's lips.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I love you, Peeta, and I want to make love tonight." She nestled in his arms. "I'm sorry for the time I just wasted."
Peeta glanced at the clock on his shelf. "It's only 7:05." He kissed her forehead. "We have plenty of time left."
"Then let's not waste another moment."
She withdrew from his arms, took a few steps back, and stepped out of her flats. Peeta watched her fingers deftly untie the belt around her waist, letting it fall to the floor. Then, she loosened every button lining her dress and peeled her dress from both shoulders. When it slumped soundlessly to the floor, Katniss stood before him wearing nothing but a simple beige bra and panties.
His eyes washed over her petite frame. Her bra held two matching swells of flesh that could easily fit in his palms. Her torso and limbs were a continuation of her olive-hue, interrupted by the pink crinkle of healed, burned skin on her upper thigh, and a few thin, faded scars on her arms and waist. The consequences of hunting, Peeta assumed.
He reached for her hand, and her cheeks stained burgundy when he lifted her arm above her head and slowly twirled her. There was a faint smudge of stubble in her armpit, an additional faded scar or two on the backs of her legs, and the bulbous curve of her rear.
She stared at the carpet. "And you still haven't seen my worst part," she mumbled. And Peeta detected the moment her insecurities tried to resurge. She wasn't perfect, and he didn't need her to be. He just needed her.
"Now it's my turn," Peeta announced. "You haven't seen a worst part until you've seen mine."
She rolled her eyes and scowled. "I'm sure you don't have a worst part, Peeta."
He feigned a suspicious look. "Will you still love me once I show you?"
She chuckled even as she scolded him. "Don't pick on me, baby. I'm nervous as hell."
He grinned as he stepped out of his shoes. "Here goes," he shrugged. Then, he removed his socks.
"I, Peeta Mellark, have weirdo toes."
Katniss stared at his feet, trying to suppress the smile forming on her lips.
"I mean, look at these things. They're spaced funny, for no apparent reason. The little one's fat and the rest of them are skinny. Then the second toe on either foot is oddly longer than the other ones… I've actually named those two fatso and slim."
She doubled over in riotous laughter while Peeta wiggled his toes in front of her. They were pretty horrible. She tried to compose herself. "They're wrestler toes, baby, that's all. You have to have fatso and slim or else you wouldn't be such a great wrestler."
"That's perfect!" Peeta beamed. "I'm gonna use that when my brothers pick on me again – which they always do."
She was still laughing when he reached for the hemline of his shirt, but the laughed died when he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his husky, muscular chest. She stared dumbly with wordlessly parted lips as he unfastened his belt and pants, dropped them to the floor and kicked them aside.
Peeta watched her stare at the bulge hanging inside his blue plaid boxer briefs. She emitted a guttural groan and was suddenly aware of her own breathing. And something about the way he looked at her sent an electric current tearing through her body.
"Your turn," he said huskily.
She unhooked the back of her bra and let it slowly fall down her arms.
"This is my worst part," she quietly warned. Mustering her nerve, Katniss hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and maneuvered them down her legs, revealing a garden of black, downy hair. And he stared – not the tempered stare he'd done so many times in public – but a ravenous gleam that hinted at a side of Peeta Mellark that Katniss didn't know. Not yet anyway.
"Now I've seen all of you, and I know beyond any doubt that all of you is beautiful and sexy and intriguing and alluring." Her eyes shone with love at his words. Then, he tugged off his boxers to reveal his large, erect penis.
Katniss's jaw dropped, her breath catching in her chest. But Peeta was breathing heavier, hungrier. And she was locked in his stare.
"And now you've seen all of me." He moistened his lips with his tongue. "Do you still think that I don't want you, Katniss?"
He barely gave her time to shake her head. Peeta cupped her face in his hands, their mouths sealing with greedy passion as they stumbled to his mattress. Peeta threw back the quilt without breaking their kiss, but their lips parted as he hooked his arm underneath her thighs, lifting her feet from the floor and laying her on his bed.
He crawled atop her with the stealth of a wildcat, gently nuzzling her neck and nose. Then they were face-to-face, freefalling into each other's eyes. And they smiled with anticipation and pride because they'd bested the odds and made it to this moment. Their love was always in survival mode in this arena called District 12, but they were surviving – on their terms.
Her fingers hid in his blonde curls as they kissed, their tongues continuing their hungry exploration. Soon, his lips toured her chin, her neck, her collarbone. His every touch felt so impossibly good, and she arched her back as he kissed a wet, tantalizing path between her breasts. Katniss suddenly noticed the coolness of the air brushing across her nipples. She longed for his mouth to be there, but Peeta kissed the bottom swell of both breasts, coming agonizingly close but never reaching her hardened brown buds.
He kissed a path back to her neck, monitoring her deepest moans. They were breathless, their chests heaving, their faces inches apart. He rolled the ponytail holder from the end of her braid and onto his wrist.
What he said next gave her pause.
"Can I love you in what you think is your worst part?"
Katniss's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" she whispered as he gently unraveled part of her braid.
"Do you trust me, babe?"
Her eyes searched his for clues. "Yes. Of course."
"And do you know that you're safe to be yourself with me? That I love every beautiful part of you?"
"Yes, baby."
"Then if I do anything that doesn't feel like love to you, tell me to stop and I will."
She fell silent as her eyes continued to search his, but Katniss believed that he was only capable of loving her. So she nodded.
He started over, kissing her lips and face, her chin and throat. He continued a straight path down her body, and she tensed when his kisses neared the bottom of her stomach. She tried to reason with herself.
I know he doesn't mean what I think he means. That's my worst part. He can't possibly mean that.
But then he knocked his knee against one of hers, causing her legs to bow open. Then he inched lower, nestling between her legs. She propped on her elbows, her heart rate quickening as she watched him tenderly kiss each inner thigh. He was coming dangerously close to her center, which had betrayed her by throbbing for his attention.
Then what she thought wouldn't happen, happened. He parted the doors guarding her most intimate region, the air tickling her clit as his cool tongue swept inside. Her head fell back over her shoulders, and she released a sound that was guttural and intense. Peeta reached a hand to her breast, massaging her nipples between the pads of his thumb and index finger.
She wasn't exactly making words, but Peeta spoke her language.
She rocked her hips to his mouth, desperately wanting his tongue to travel higher. But with obvious skill, Peeta's tongue lapped everywhere other than her clit. His slate blue eyes watched from between her legs, and she knew that he was making her wait.
"Please," she advocated amid moans. She reclined on the mattress as she continued to rock her hips. Her hand pressed to the back of his head as her braid continued to unravel.
He teased her a little longer. Then the wait was over. Peeta hooked both arms underneath her thighs to hold them open, and his tongue and his lips descended on the small button between her legs, licking and sucking with abandon. She shouted in prolonged bursts, twisting and squirming on the bed as one hand gripped the side of the mattress and the other hand twisted in his bed sheets.
She was so wet and so close. Peeta moaned as he dismantled her, as he watched her wrestle with a force she didn't want to control. And in the moment of her awakening, every muscle in her body locked before she surrendered, wailing at his walls, her head beating against his pillows, raven hair flying. She called for him because he alone could rescue her. But he was her captor. And he didn't release her until she was completely free.
Peeta crawled his way back up her languid body, his lips glistening with her nectar. Her eyes were still closed, her body still thrumming. When he kissed her, she tasted herself in his mouth.
"I love you," he murmured into her ear.
"I know," she whispered.
"Do you want to keep going?"
Her eyelids fluttered, lazily. "Don't you dare stop."
"Yes ma'am," he chuckled lowly.
This time, Peeta started at her stomach, working his way up. He visited her breasts, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to elicit pleasure. After watching her come, her every breathless moan amplified his desire to be inside her, but he willed himself to wait a little longer. This was her night, he reminded himself, and he wanted her to come again.
When it was time for him to enter, he tried to prepare her. "This may feel a little uncomfortable at first," he whispered. "I'm preparing you for me, but let me know if it hurts or if you want to stop. Okay?"
"Okay," she said, already breathless.
She groaned as he gently pulsed one finger inside her, then two. It felt strange, but she didn't want him to stop. When he asked again if she was ready, she told him 'yes.'
Peeta leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and Katniss kissed his neck as his hand slid underneath his pillow for the foil packet he'd stashed there earlier that day.
"That feels so good, babe," he whispered breathlessly, "but I need to be inside you."
Katniss watched with buzzing nerves as he sat back on his haunches, tore open the condom and rolled it up his penis. Peeta angled his body and widened her legs. She felt his tip at her doors. He entered slowly, incrementally, closely watching her reactions and adjusting to her hisses and halted breaths.
He paused halfway.
"Am I hurting you babe? Do you want to stop?"
There had been a pinch of pain at first, but it was subsiding. Now, she felt like she was stretching to accommodate his girth. That feeling was uncomfortable but not painful.
"No, don't stop," she said even as her fingers tightly gripped his forearm. "Just keep going slow."
Peeta carefully guided himself the rest of the way to her inner chamber, and both of their chests deflated when he was fully sheathed. He groaned at the tightness of her walls, at her spirited breasts, and at the realization that he was having sex with Katniss Everdeen.
He tried to focus on her. "Just tell me when you're ready, and I'll start moving."
She leaned forward to gather her hair and pull it over one shoulder. Then she adjusted so she could press her lower back into the mattress. "Okay." She moistened her lips. "I'm ready."
He moved with caution and careful thrusts, watching every inflection of her face.
"Try to relax, babe," he whispered. "You're tense."
She took a few deep breaths, which helped. And soon, the friction of his thrusts was causing something enjoyable to pool between her legs. But she couldn't quite figure out the rhythm of their lovemaking. She felt awkward as she tried to move with his thrusts.
"Am I doing this right, Peeta?"
He slowed. "When I thrust, move forward to meet me."
She tried, but she still ended up moving awkwardly in the direction of his thrusts. "I can't seem to figure this out," she said sheepishly.
"It's okay, babe," he reassured. "The way we were doing it was fine, but thrusting together can increase the pleasure. Let's try this." Peeta guided one of her legs to wrap around his waist and held on to the bottom of her thigh. "I'll pull your leg forward as I thrust. That'll get you use to the rhythm."
With his help, she soon caught on. The sensation was becoming more and more enjoyable.
"That's it, babe." His eyelids shut. Amid her own sighs and moans, Katniss was drawn to the faint groans escaping Peeta's lips, signs of his own pleasure.
"Is it okay if I move a little faster?" he asked.
"Yes."
With her leg still wrapped around his waist, the tempo of Peeta's thrusts increased, and their pleasure surged.
"Peeta," she pleaded breathlessly.
"Oh you're so tight," he hissed. "You feel so good, Katniss."
Moments later, she touched the side of his face, and his eyes opened to gaze into hers. In that moment, more than any other, their love making became real.
Peeta knew he wouldn't last much longer. He'd been ready for her since their talk earlier that afternoon in the alcove. So he reached his hand between her legs and rubbing firm circles on her clit. Her mouth widened in horror – not from fear, but from cresting pleasure – and she felt her body was nearing another breakthrough.
He grunted and she moaned and the bed squeaked. And they created an intense, sexual cadence, their bodies laboring for each other's pleasure and for their own.
"Peeta," she pleaded in a higher octave, her breasts bouncing with their pace.
"Right there," he groaned. "Right there."
Katniss came with a shout so primal that she didn't recognize herself. Peeta thrust faster, intensifying her orgasm and beckoning his.
"Fuck!" He grunted. "I'm gonna come."
With a series of moans and involuntary jerks, he released into the condom and nearly collapsed on top of her. When he withdrew, holding onto the condom, Katniss felt the vacancy. He knotted the condom, dropped it on the floor, rolled off of her, and lay beside her.
They were still battling for breaths as his fingers reached for her hand, which he pulled to his lips.
"Are you okay," he managed.
"Umm hmm," she nodded and smiled.
"I need to clean up. I'll be right back."
He crawled out of the bed, dropped the condom in the waste basket beside his desk, and headed for his bedroom door. Katniss propped on her elbows, appreciating his rear and noticing the beads of perspiration coating his neck and back. And when he cleared the door, she flopped back onto his pillows, excitement surging through her body.
That was AMAZING! Oh my goodness, Peeta and I just had sex! In his bedroom!
Her mind was still racing when he slipped back into the room, his skin dried. A towel was oddly draped over his hand. He paused at his shelf, then he climbed into bed and gave her the towel. She rubbed it across her face and chest and arms, but she hadn't sweat as much as he did.
"Come here," he whispered, pulling her into his arms. He held her close and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "How do you feel?"
The look in her eyes said it all. "Beautiful."
"That's because you are, Katniss. You truly are. And I love every part of you."
"And I love your wrestler toes."
They laughed heartily. "Yep," Peeta said. "After a while you learn to love 'em. By the way, I usually keep my socks on, so I truly showed you all of me tonight as well."
"Thank you for that," she said. "Tonight was so wonderful, baby. You were attentive and strong and loving and you understood what I needed. Body, mind, and emotions. Thank you for talking me off the ledge. I'll never forget what you did for me tonight."
"It was worth every minute to be with you. Thank you for trusting me and for loving me."
She inhaled against his chest, her body sinking deeper with relaxation. "I wish we had all night."
"Me too." He kissed the top of her head. "But, you know what we do have? Cake."
She leaned up to look at him. "What?"
Peeta reached to his stand. He must have had the towel draped over the white box when he came back into the bedroom. The silver handle of a fork or spoon was sticking out of the box. He pulled himself to a sitting position, causing her to do the same.
"Peeta, you didn't."
"What?" he grinned innocently. "It's your birthday. You're my girlfriend. I live on top of a bakery. You get cake for your birthday."
"But you've done enough with the drawing – which I absolutely adore, by the way. It is the nicest gift I've ever received, and it's priceless. So I'll really owe you if you add on a slice of cake."
He opened the lid and each side of the cardboard box. She gasped at the miniature strawberry shortcake, enough for two.
"You told me once that it was your sister's favorite, but you never told me the kind you liked. So this was all I had to go on."
"I've only had cheese buns. I love the cheese buns. And of course there was that loaf of bread you slipped into my knapsack when we were kids, the one with the fruit and nuts."
Peeta stilled and his eyes shot to hers. He didn't think she knew it was him who left the bread that his father sent all those years ago when the Everdeen family was nearly starving.
"I hope you're not offended. We just –"
She kissed his cheek, noticing his use of the word 'we' but dismissing it.
"That bread gave us hope. Thank you."
He reached his hand to the side of her face, his gaze filled with determination. "As long as I'm here, you will never face another challenge alone, Katniss. We'll face them together. I promise."
She nodded and smiled.
"Now, birthday girl, it's time for cake."
He fed her a forkful and she moaned and shut her eyes at the delicious burst of flavor. "Peeta, this is so good."
"I made it myself. But wait until you taste my cheese buns."
She started to protest, so he fed her another forkful.
"Consider it food taxes," he explained. "Most boyfriends pay some form of food taxes to their girlfriends within the first year of dating."
She smirked as she chewed, and she scooped a tuft of whipped cream with her finger and smeared it on his lips. Peeta laughed, but instead of licking the whipped cream from his lips, he kissed hers, their mouths tasting like strawberries and cake and cream. Their kiss intensified, and they were quickly aroused.
"How much time do we have?" She asked breathlessly.
Peeta glanced over his shoulder. "It's 7:48. There's still time."
She smiled slyly. "Can we do it again?"
He quickly placed the box on the stand and pulled her close.
"Yes ma'am," he grinned.
They dressed in a hurry, and she quickly re-braided her hair. It was 8:20, and they were pushing their time together dangerously close. She pulled her ponytail holder from his wrist.
"I'm walking you home," Peeta said as he put on his shirt.
No," she said. "That's not a good idea."
"It's getting dark outside, babe. You don't really think I'm going to let you go alone."
"I'll be fine, Peeta." She walked to him and laid her hand on his chest. "Listen, when my father meets you, it needs to be at the best possible moment. Him walking up on us together after dark won't be that moment. I want him to like you, so we have to take this very carefully. Okay?"
He kissed her. "Okay. I'll give you a three-minute head start, then I'm walking behind you."
"All the way to the Seam?"
"As far as I have to go to see that you've made it home safely."
She knew there was no convincing him, but his idea was a good compromise.
"Okay. Take the path through the meadow. Our house is near the far end of the Seam. You can follow the meadow and see it from a distance. We're Number 17."
"Okay."
"We may or may not have consistent electric until it's completely dark out. This time of the evening can be iffy. If I can, I'll flash our porch light. If I can't, I'll stand out on the porch until you can see that I'm home."
"Sounds good." He glanced at the clock. It was 8:22. "We'd better go," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the door.
"Wait. My drawing." Katniss rushed to the desk, quickly re-rolled the sketch, and grabbed the red string. She slid her hand back into his.
The alarm hadn't beeped, so Peeta knew no one was home. He led her back through his home and down the narrow stairs. They shared a final, quick kiss.
"I love you. I'll be behind you in three minutes."
"Okay. I love you too."
And after he made sure that no one was walking past, Katniss exited the Mellark Bakery building with purposeful steps and headed in the direction of the meadow.
Peeta couldn't wait the full three minutes. After two, he was out the door, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was in the meadow when he spotted her, making her way to her front porch. She must have run part of the way. She turned on her front porch, and their smiles found each other in the rapidly diminishing daylight. And with the sketch held behind her back, she walked inside her house.
Peeta's mind reeled with all that happened that night, starting with the most important moments. They made love. Twice, not counting the oral. He'd watched her come three times, each time more beautiful the last, and she had coaxed him to pleasure twice. He knew Rye would want details about tonight, but Peeta wouldn't give him any. Katniss wasn't just some girl he was dating so he could screw. She was… his. He didn't completely understand what that meant, but he knew it to be true with every fiber of his being.
The lights were on at his house. Thatch was somewhere with Natalie, so Rye must have come home early. But that didn't make sense either.
He jogged up the stairs and entered his home, surprised to find her swiftly opening and shutting cabinet doors in the kitchen.
"Mom." Peeta tried to hide the surprise in his voice. "Is the event over already?"
"No," she grumbled. "Your father threw his back out again trying to help move a podium. I wish he'd listen to me some of the damn time. Have you seen the liniment?"
"Umm, I think Rye might have had it for a wrist sprain. I'll go get it."
Peeta went to the hall bathroom, and found the liniment in the cabinet under the sink. He quickly slipped inside his bedroom, placing the box of uneaten cake in the waste basket over the set of used condoms. Nance Mellark never entered her boys' rooms unless she was looking for something. After the kitchen, she probably would have looked for the liniment in his room.
Peeta returned with the liniment. "If you need my help with dad, I'll be in my room."
Then he turned to walk away. Peeta and Rye both kept their communication with Nance Mellark as brief as possible. She'd stopped hitting all her boys in their early teens, but there was a lot of resentment there. Thatch had far more tolerance with her – probably because her husband's tolerance had been waning over the years.
"Peeta."
He turned around.
"You need to get everything you can out of Boggs. The boys you will meet there will be the same boys you'll see in finals next year, so study them and find ways to outsmart them."
He was surprised by what she had to say. "Yes mom."
"And this is a great opportunity for you to get a post-secondary scholarship to a good school. Then you can come back home and help us grow the family business. Have you been saving your earnings for spending money at Boggs?"
"Yes mom."
"Good. Don't spend it all while you're there."
Peeta nodded. This had been the most his mother had said to him in months. She grabbed a rag and followed him down the hall on her way to the master bedroom. He was at his bedroom door when she spoke again.
"I didn't expect you to be home this early. What did you do tonight?"
He gave some nondescript answer, but mentally, Peeta had a different response.
My girlfriend, mom. I did my Seam girlfriend, Katniss Everdeen. Right in your house.
A/N: Comments are appreciated!