Chapter 12: I Can Fix It

Following the calling off of our engagement, Peeta and I don't speak for several months. No longer do I go over to the bakery to pick up bread or exchange sweet gestures of love. I would send Dean to get the bread, were it not for the fear that Peeta might still have a vendetta against the boy and try to kill him all over again.

The 90th Hunger Games resulted in a loss for Twelve. Dean was pretty bummed about it. After navigating one sexual encounter with a sponsor to get medicine for our girl tribute, I think he figured the sacrifice would be worth something. Like another Victor for our District. He took it worse than I did when she went down in the Final Four. I told Dean not to take it to heart. "Be prepared that it might be awhile before we see another District 12 Victor again."

Returning to our exile in the Victors' Village, I go out and hunt only to avoid wallowing in the stew of bitterness and pain that I placed upon myself. Otherwise, I will sit in my empty mansion and cry over the love that I let slip through my fingers.

One night, it is pouring rain. As I make to close one window to keep out the water, I notice that the hinge is rusted and won't shut all the way. I groan and try to brace the shutters closed with a bucket. It barely rests on the windowsill.

I have no other choice. I have to get this window fixed. Otherwise, the house might flood if this level of rainwater keeps up. Nervously, I reach for the phone and dial a number.

"Hey. It's Katniss. One of my windows won't shut all the way. Can you come over?"

I'm surprised that he even says yes. Several minutes later, a knock at the door prompts me to let Peeta in. Wordlessly, he crosses over to the window and readies his tools. I sadly sit at the table and keep my eyes on him the whole time. I've missed watching him work. I've missed being with him!

I wish I could say that it is the candlelight that weakens my eyes, but pretty soon, my tears are falling freely onto the tabletop. It is a few minutes before I see Peeta standing at my side, staring at me. The window looks all repaired.

"What is it?"

"Peeta... my heart is breaking." I should have realized it wasn't only the window that needed fixing.

There is silence for a moment. Then, Peeta responds, "I can fix that, too, if you like."

His offer hangs in the air. Does he truly mean it? After all the pain I've caused him? I don't want to risk my emotions further in trying to find out and being mistaken. So I don't reply. I sense Peeta turning away...

I can't stand it any longer! All at once, I suddenly seize him, pull him to me and kiss his lips desperately. Peeta moans into my mouth as he runs his fingers through my long brown hair, clearing out the tangles.

Growing bolder as the kiss becomes more involved, I pull Peeta into my lap and make him straddle me and the chair I'm sitting in. Lips still pressed resolutely to his, I begin to fumble at the buttons of his shirt. Then his pants. I undress him slowly, teasingly.

Peeta, meanwhile, is not as patient. He is groping me everywhere that he can reach. As he struggles with my top, I have to briefly break the kiss to help him pull it over my head and cast it aside. I shimmy out of my pants, Peeta propping himself up to let them fall past my thighs.

I don't have a chance to lay eyes on Peeta's undoubtedly swollen and beautiful manhood. Swollen for me. But I feel it. I feel it push into my vagina. I lean my head back against the chair's headrest and let out a sexy moan. "Uhhhhhhhh..." I arch my neck into Peeta's lips, as he now trails kisses along my face and down to my collarbone.

"Huhhhh... Huhhh..." I pant heavily, my face trashing about wildly as I try to kiss my lover with open mouth. Peeta begins to thrust into me, faster and faster; at certain points, the chair leans back so far that it is in danger of toppling over.

"Mmmmmm... UHHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHH! Peeta..." I close my eyes and smile in pleasure as his lips worship my body.

My brain becomes so fuzzy from the pleasure that I don't remember when I orgasm, or how many times, or even if I make Peeta cum.


Several hours later, we are still in that chair, with Peeta in my lap. Our naked bodies are wrapped around each other. I glance at Peeta, before turning his chin to me so I can softly peck his lips.

"Hi," I whisper, beaming.

All is forgiven.