Take Me- Chapter 2
"You got a phone?" He whispers. I nod and pull the Nokia out from my mother's jacket.
"Do me a favor..." he says as he takes it and starts punching the key pad. "You call me if you ever need to."
"I'm a little confused."
"Bout what?" Peeta asks me as he runs his hand through his hair. I watch as he lets it go and his hair springs forward. My hand itches to touch it; but I retreat into the sleeve of my mother's jacket, trying to focus on the bitter chill rather than the way the faint, dirty haze of the light bulbs reflect in Peeta's eyes.
"I don't know. Maybe its because I just moved or something but...I just feel weird."
Peeta gets off the bench and moves in front of me. Immediately I am aware of the position we must look like we're in, and turn side to side to make sure no one is watching. He squats in front of me and brings his hands up to my face again.
He studies me, briefly, and yet I can feel him learning almost too much. I immediately feel uncomfortable, and recoil against his touch.
"Lets get you home before it gets too dark."
"Wha-what was that?" I can still feel his hands on my cheeks even though they are stuffed in his jean pockets. My skin is burning.
"Whatchu talkin bout Willis?" He smiles, extending his hand out to me as he stands. I take it and rise cautiously, unsure of my footing. His dark demeanor is no where in sight.
He walked me to the foot of my hill, and when I heard the leaves stop crackling, I couldn't help but turn to face him, wondering why he wouldn't walk further.
"You remember to call me if you want, anytime." His face has taken on the shadows of the tree branches above us, and I sense warning in his voice.
"Peeta..." I began, hoping to have a conversation to clarify all of this. In the darkness his eyes seemed black, and I could see his fingers twitching at his sides. I buried my words and closed my mouth, the discussion would have to wait.
We make eye contact, and again I can feel him search me. What was he looking for? Why did it always feel like he was looking for something?
"Goodnight." I whispered. The entire night had weighed on me, and soon I found myself trudging up my hill, the walk feeling longer than usual. I was out of breath by the time I reached the porch. I turned and could see Peeta lighting another cigarette, the orange ember in the distance the only clue to his location. He had waited until I got to my grandparent's house to truly leave. Why did he stop at the foot of the hill? It would have been nice to talk to him some more; to have some company in this darkness.
My light in my bedroom was on. I shook my hair with a free hand and tried to make sense of the night. I must have never turned it off. I carelessly strip down and throw on a large t-shirt, leaving my clothes on the floor for another time and another energy.
Soon I was on my bed, fingering the light green quilt. I wanted to smoke after watching Peeta light two. My tongue danced beneath my teeth, imagining the cool menthol on my lips.
The first drag I felt nothing. The second, a slight milky numbness on my tongue. My blood felt looser. My head felt lighter. My worries had left me. Without realizing it, I had 'chiefed' the entire cigarette in only a few puffs. Gale laughed at me. His deep, throaty laughter reminiscent of rustic music. I smiled as I put the butt into his ashtray. I was proud of myself. I hadn't coughed, I hadn't chickened out. I had smoked an entire cigarette like it was my first glass of water in months. I laughed along with him, the action spilling from my body- it had been a while since I let myself laugh.
My release is cut short as he crushes his lips to mine. His tongue searches my mouth, and I can feel his greed as his hands grasp my neck. I'm not sure how to feel. All I really wanted to do was laugh.
But tonight I was on top of the world. I was drunk. I was high. I was anything I wanted to be. Gale found me sexy. As long as these things were true, I was in power. I was independent. I let his hands find his way into my pants. I leaned back against the wall and relished in his touch. He was clumsy, but I was his queen right now. He moaned against my neck, his teeth teasing at my skin. He pushes a finger into me, and I inhale sharply. This feeling is better than anything I've felt. I only let him do this to me. I brace myself against him as he thrusts faster and faster, my knees buckling when he curls his finger towards my cervix. I moan his name out loud. I can feel his lips smiling against my neck.
As powerful as I tell myself I am, he owns me right now. And he knows it.
"Mmmm Katniss...you're so wet." He sighs. I can feel my cheeks redden, the last thing I enjoy doing is admitting anything to anyone. Instead of talking back, I push my hips outward, allowing him to penetrate me further. "Alright, I can take a hint." He pulls his finger from me and begins to take off his white t-shirt.
But its not Gale I see when he stands again.
Its Peeta Mellark.
My phone's alarm blares in the most annoying, outdated, midi jingle. I almost throw it against the wall.
The pool of liquid between my legs is just another reminder of how much I hate my ancient cell phone. I had never turned off my old school alarm. The sun had just begun to rise. I was terribly aroused. My body was trembling from falling asleep on top of my quilt, but the chill is quickly forgotten when I begin to replay my dream in my mind. All the practicing with Gale had lead me to discover my own body, and my own hands found their way to my center instinctively. I trailed my wetness over myself, inhaling deeply as I thought of the piercing blue eyes in my dream. The way his shoulders seemed so sturdy, and his tan skin against mine. I could barely remember what Gale had been wearing, but I could easily imagine Peeta's frame as he pushed my body against the wall, claiming my lips in secure kisses, the most stable feeling I've ever felt. Nothing like Gale, who I've only fucked when drunk. Gale was clumsy and greedy. Peeta was reverent with his mouth. Or at least, that's how I'd imagine him to be. He would taste like tobacco and whatever sweets he's made at the bakery, I'm sure. His hair would feel like heaven in my hands as he would penetrate me, I'd have to grasp it for dear life to prevent my own premature release. Everything about this fantasy was so lusciously real.
And before I can come, I begin to feel ashamed. How could I fantasize about Peeta like this? The first time I've seen him since we were kids. He gave me a bagel. Was that any excuse to fuck his brains out?
Oh I hope so.
I cleared my head with a cold shower. It was something I often did to ease my demons. My own guilt prevented me from achieving a release.
After hearing the front door slam several times, I figured I was alone for the day. Mom was at work, and Prim was off to school. It was Monday after all. I contemplated going back to bed, and maybe fingering myself. I cringed, laziness was a talent I never could quite muster.
Instead of indulging in my own sexuality all day, I decided to go job hunting. more businesses were open since it was Monday, I felt the odds could be in my favor.
Three gift-shops, a diner, and a laundromat later and I'm about to give up. This place is chock full of family businesses. No one wants to hire the Everdeen brat. Who does she think she is anyhow?
I almost turn back for the hill when I see a dusty old office across the main street. I can barely make out the white "help wanted" sign against the filthy shop window pane. If this is my one chance at having any source of income, the powers above have a sick sense of humor.
The door is quite heavy, and I barely make it inside without twisting my ankle. The laminate wood paneling on the walls remind me of an Old Spice commercial from the 1970's. It smells like bourbon, or vodka- probably both.
I hear a man snoring from behind the reception booth window, but there's no one in sight. I rap my knuckles against the window, and almost yelp when a man sits up at the desk.
"Y-yes. Can I help you sweetheart?" He growls. I cringe. Could this man's mouth be the source of that smell? It smells like a bar in here.
"That sign in the window. Are they hiring?" I manage to get out. He stands and limps to the door of the booth, exiting and opening an adjacent door to a hallway in one motion.
"After you missy."
We reach an office and he motions to a chair in front of a stately looking desk. I thank him, and expecting him to leave, I am appalled when he sits down at the desk in front of me.
"Name's Haymitch Abernathy, I am a lawyer. No one sues anyone around here. But kids get into trouble, and the only money to be made is as a public defender for the district courts. You feel me sweetheart?" He mumbles. No way in Hell could this man be a lawyer. No way in Hell could this man have graduated high school.
"I need an assistant. Tell me, can you use a computer?" I truly feel like its 1970. But how would I know? I wasn't even a gleam in my fathers eye yet.
"Oh gee mister I can only use a typewriter."
"Very funny princess. You got a resume?" I reluctantly hand over one of my resumes to him. He puts it into his desk drawer without looking at it and extends his hand. "Congratulations you can start tomorrow."
"That's it?"
"Yeah I'm hungover and you're the first person to ask about that damned sign I put up over the god damned summer. What's your name kid, how old are ya?"
"Katniss Everdeen, I'm twenty two." I go to shake his hand but he recoils instantly.
"Everdeen?" He immediately sobers up. "You Lily's kid?" I nod, bewildered. He seems to think something over, but replaces his sober expression with a smug grin.
"See you tomorrow, you can come at ten. I'll probably still be asleep, just wake me up anyway." I nod and take my leave, he doesn't bother to get up and show me out, just a slight wave as he settles back into his chair. What the hell was that?
I tuck my braid behind my ear and try to make sense of my dumb luck. I didn't even ask how much this guy would pay me, but I had a feeling he's the only person in this town that would hire me. Everyone seemed to be weary of me when they heard my last name. I close my eyes and try to accept it. An office job might not be too bad, won't be as social as I'd like but if he pays well then it could be a piece of cake.
Cake. I can smell cake.
The bakery is right across the street. Peeta is outside helping someone load a large wedding cake into a van. I watch him shut the door and pat the back of the vehicle, almost like one would swat at a horse or something in an old western movie.
His shirt was so tight. I could make out every muscle. It appeared to have been black at one point in his life, but its days were numbered since it belonged to a baker. He was covered in flour. My lips suddenly go dry. I run my tongue across them. I imagine myself running my tongue across his bare chest in the process.
"Katniss!" Shit, I've been caught. Peeta is waving at me like an ape, his smile bigger than the sun. I smile back, trying to hide the shame I still felt gripping me from below. That's twice now I've imagined him naked. Thank god he shook me from it or else I might have ruined my underwear.
I walk across the street and greet him with the fakest smile I can muster.
"What're you up to this early?" He tucks a pencil behind his ear, his hair slicking back from a hard morning's work. I can see that he has a cigarette behind his other ear, and again I'm reminded of last night's wet dream.
"I just had a job interview...sort of." Maybe talking will distract me from the pheromones he's obviously releasing.
"Sort of? How'd it go? Where's it at?" I ignore his southern grammar and shield my eyes from the sun.
"At that lawyer's office across the street. Abernathy? I think his name was." I see him bite his lip when I mention the name. Great, another awkward response to a name. This town was beginning to bug me.
"Haymitch. Yeah I know 'em." His voice darkens, reminding me of our talk last night. Reminding me of the sexual fantasy I had while I slept. Of how he might moan my name while trying to catch his breath-
"Katniss?"
"Huh?"
"What's wrong? You looked a little feverish for a second." He brings his hand to my forehead, and surely my skin would singe at his touch. Not because of sickness, no, this was a fever of a different kind. "Come inside." I follow him without a word, I'm entranced by the lingering ghost of his hand on my forehead.
He hands me a glass of water and I sit at one of the empty tables. The water is gone within seconds and then he replaces my empty cup with a steaming plate of the cheese buns from yesterday.
"This is on me, so don't even think about pulling out that wallet." I cringe at his ability to read me so easily. I realize quickly that I'm starving, and the cheese buns are gone immediately.
"So we'll be neighbors sorta." He smiles, a little bit of cheery Peeta coming back. I return the gesture and nod. If I could bury this strong desire for Peeta, maybe we could end up being friends.
The way he's staring at me though, is going to make that very difficult.
"How was your night? You sleep okay?" what kind of question is that?
"Yes, very well." Why am I even answering that question? He smiles and I melt immediately. Why. is he so nosy and why don't I mind it? I really want answers.
"What's your deal Peeta?" I sigh, barely realizing that I'm thinking out loud.
"Just trying to be nice. You're new. You're...different." The way he says different sends a shiver down my spine. His eyes smolder like blue fire.
"Different...different how?" I almost forget to ask. I see him glance out the front window, and then pull out one of the black chairs from the table and sit down in front of me.
"You just...you just are?" He raises an eyebrow at me, his lips falling into a defeated smile. How depressing his expression is, I wish I could make him smile for real. He looks like he's been up since dawn, and most likely he has been, he seems to be the only one working in the shop.
"Let's go for a walk...we can talk outside." he stands up and offers me a hand, not that I need any help standing up. The politeness of the gesture touches me somehow, and I accept. The electricity I feel at his touch cannot be ignored.
"You remember when your mama came back here, three or four years ago?" He begins, his hands in his pockets, fishing for his lighter. He pulls a cigarette from behind his ear, and lights it, his hands shielding him from the wind.
I nod slowly, becoming more intoxicated by the sight of his lips on the cig. He takes a drag, and quickly flicks his tongue and bites his lip. I want to die.
"She came down here. Just up and moves into your grandpa's house. I haven't seen her since she came in here that very morning and ordered breakfast to go. Workin' at that pharmaceutical company in Pilot, doin' research or some shit she said." With his hair plastered back from sweat, he almost reminds me of some sort of greaser, I'm expecting James Dean or John Travolta to pull up in an old car and challenge him to a race. Its a good look.
His eyes squint in the sunlight as he takes a final hit, the smoke exiting his nostrils like a dragon.
"Prim comes by about once a week I reckon. You've been the only Everdeen that really makes her presence known down here in town." He flicks the used butt to the ground, putting his hands back into his pockets. We sit down at the small park from the other night, the only real place we can sit outside. The bench makes a painful sound as we settle in.
"Why is that? Is that why everyone is so surprised by who I say I am?"
"Well you sure as hell don't look much like your mama. Or your sister I suppose. But that's not the reason. You sure wanna know don't you?" His slight twang is evident as he lowers his voice.
"Your mama is part of an old family Katniss. Your dad's from up north. He was a good man, but he had no idea what he got himself into when he married your mama. I suppose she never really planned on returning to Panem. She swore it to my pa she'd never, ever come back. You know why? Your sister knows why."
"Cut to the chase Peeta." I didn't like where this was going. I tensed up the moment he had mentioned my father.
He studies me, again, and brings his hand up to my face to brush a strand of hair out of my eyes. I shiver at his touch, and I'm sure he noticed.
"I really don't wanna tell you Katniss. Maybe its better that I don't." We sit for a second, looking at each other. His eyes lower to my lips, and I feel my cheeks heat up. I'm sure he can feel it with his palm resting on my face. I inhale. He smells like burnt wood, tobacco, and flour. A manly sweetness. He leans in, and I'm sure he's about to kiss me. When he closes his eyes, I follow suit. He's about to kiss me. Oh my god. What do I do? Should I just let it happen?
His lips barely touch mine, as if a butterfly landed there, and then I hear her yelling.
"What the fuck is this? You close the shop to smoke and I come out here an' fine' you makin' out with this here slut? Get the fuck back inside Peeta! Stupid boy!" Peeta freezes at the sound of the thin, middle aged woman's voice. Her auburn hair is fried and pulled back tight into a bun, and she's dressed all in black.
"Sorry ma." He mumbles as he pulls away. I miss him instantly. His face takes on that dark look it so often has briefly, but then he meets my gaze and smirks. I see him wink and then he turns to sprint back up the block to the cafe. Mrs. Mellark watches him as he flips the sign to "open" and returns to the storefront. She turns to scold me I suppose, but then her expression changes. Instead of anger, its a brief look of recognition.
"You little Everdeen bitch. You stay away from my son. I don't want any of your bullshit." I see her back twist away from me, and fear covers her face. She's afraid of me. Peeta's mother is afraid of me?
The small park grows cold and empty the more I realize Peeta's left.
Sorry for the long wait! The holidays happened O.O So i took a mini break from writing and got more into reading other fics :) There are a lot of really inspiring ones out there right now on this site! Here's a few that I love:
Fire and Ice by Falafel Waffel...a hockey/romance fic that just happens to parallel the lives of our favorite Hunger Games characters with the lives of my favorite hockey team, the Philadelphia Flyers :p
Alone in a Crowded Room by wollaston, a really emotional fic that has me reeling :) really nice work and descriptive writing.
I'm reading a ton right now, but these are my favorites at the moment!
Anyways again, I'm sorry for the long wait, and this chapter is more of a filler to get the plot going, but I'm almost done with the next chapter, so hopefully I'll be able to update within the next couple o' days! yayyyyy
Thanks for reading :)
~honeybooboochild