December - Part 5
PPOV
I can't get what Katniss said out of my head. You'd be hard pushed to find a woman in the Capitol Finnick hasn't slept with. Was she implying that she and Jo fall into that category as well?
Should I be surprised? Finn is charming, quick witted and funny, you can't help instantly liking him. So it's not exactly a surprise to discover that he doesn't have any problems with women. I can't imagine anyone has ever made a lame excuse and walked out on him halfway through a date, something I've experienced more than once. Not everyone can handle the staring that accompanies a pronounced bout of Tourette's.
Even Katniss, who seems understanding of my condition, hasn't exactly been in a hurry to be seen out in public with me. Until today she's insisted that we keep our arrangement secret and I've agreed without any argument. Because no matter how much I tell myself that Tourette's doesn't define me and that it hasn't limited me - I have a successful business, good friends, people that care about me, even if they're not my family - when it comes to relationships I still don't honestly believe that I'll ever achieve what Delly has with Thom. Not just that I won't be lucky enough to find it, but that it's not realistic to even expect it. That clandestine affairs with girls that just want to hook up - whilst knowing I'm never going to be the one they'd think about settling down with - is what I've come to expect. I am prepared to settle for less, even though I tell myself that I shouldn't.
When I entered into this relationship with Katniss I knew full well that it was never going to be anything more than just a stopgap fling for her before she hit the road again. I never expected it to develop into anything more, because I knew Katniss - unashamedly confident and attractive - was totally and utterly out of my league. And I didn't care, I wanted her even if it was only for a short time. I know what this – us – really is. No matter how much it feels like it, and no matter how much I wish it were, this is not a real relationship.
Katniss has been quiet for the last ten minutes, nearly everyone is watching some Christmas movie on the TV but her pose, sat rigid on the edge of the sofa, is in stark contrast to the way Finnick and Annie are sat wrapped about each other. For all the contact between us, Katniss might as well be sat on the other side of the room.
I read some statistic somewhere about the number of couples that break up over the holiday season, after valentines it's the most popular time of the year for couples to call it a day. I presume it's all that time off work spent together that makes people realise they don't have anything to talk about or, that when they do, they don't actually like each other.
"Katniss," I say quietly, just loud enough to get her attention. "I…uh…" I can feel my emotions and nerves getting the better of me as my chin juts upwards and I blink painfully. "Is there somewhere I c-could FISH give you your present."
She nods but she doesn't look keen.
She leads me upstairs to a smallish bedroom in the converted attic. Our bags are already on the bed, I guess she brought them up earlier whilst I was in the kitchen.
We both sit on the edge of the bed, facing each other. Katniss with one knee bent in front, part cross-legged.
I grab my bag and pull out the wrapped gifts. They look bigger and more impressive than I fear they really are.
"Open this one first." I offer her the largest of the two.
"No." My heart sinks and I brace myself for her explanation of how she can't accept the gift and that she's decided we need to put an end to our 'arrangement'. Instead she says, "I want you to open mine first." But her troubled expression prevents me from feeling too relieved.
She pulls two gifts out from under her bed. She sits looking at them for a moment before making her decision. "This one first," she says, as she hesitantly hands the gift to me.
She looks beyond apprehensive as I ease open the sellotaped joins. I'm surprised by the contents, a dark blue, almost navy, knitted beanie. It has a cable design and feels incredibly soft.
"I hope it fits," she says, "I'm worried I made it too small."
"You knitted it?" She nods as I pull it on. She reaches out to adjust it, pulling it a little further back off my forehead.
"It's a good size," she smiles, looking genuinely relieved with what she sees.
I check my reflection in the mirror before I pull it off to take a closer look at the work. "I can't believe you made this, it looks so professional."
She shakes her head, "I made a mistake, just here, see." She points out something but I can't see any flaw.
"That just makes it unique. A one off Everdeen design. I love it," I tell her truthfully and she beams back at my praise. I'm incredibly touched that she spent this time on a handmade gift for me but it makes me doubt my own choice of gifts.
The second gift still sits on the bed. She doesn't offer it to me and I'm not sure if I should help myself. "Shall I open this one?" I ask. She nods and her smile shrinks.
It's clear as soon as I pick up the gift that it's a book and my heart sinks. My gifts are going to seem even more uninspired if I'm giving her the same thing.
But it's not the same. When I cast aside the wrapping paper I'm left holding an old notebook. It's a bit dog-eared and what look like magazine and paper cuttings protrude unevenly from between its pages. On the first page in neat but juvenile handwriting is a recipe for 'Granny's fruit cake'.
"It was my mother's. She started writing it when she was a kid and just kept adding to it. She was always cutting out recipes from magazines, but only the ones she had tried and liked made it into the book," Katniss explains.
"Katniss," I breathe in stunned amazement. "I can't keep this. It's yours."
I offer it back to her but she shakes her head and puts her hand up to stop me. "It's just been sitting in a box in Aunt Haze's attic for the last eight years. Please I want you to keep it. Mum would like the thought that someone who can actually cook might make something from it." She gives me a weak smile before pressing the still out held book back towards me.
"I'll look after it for you then. Until you…" I'm about to say until you come back, but that sounds like I'm presuming she's coming back to me, so I quickly change it to, "Whilst you're travelling."
She looks as awkward as I feel, so I quickly hand over her first present.
She rips off the paper to uncover the bundles of folded material. Holding them up she reveals three pairs of leggings.
"I thought…" I can't hold back the jerky head movement that interrupts my sentence. "That…because yours were all so thin and worn that you could do with some new ones." Of course there's a chance I'm being an insensitive dumb-ass, and that is exactly the way Katniss likes her leggings. "I sized them up against some of your old ones so they sh-should fit."
"Thank you," she looks way more impressed than a few pairs of leggings warrants. "It's really sweet of you."
I hand her the other present. Her face is quizzical, as she must realise straight away that it is also a book. She tears off the paper and then her face is unreadable as she studies it.
I wish I knew what she is thinking as she runs her finger over the embossed letters that spell out her name on the front of the leather cover. Both my offerings seem so unoriginal and impersonal in comparison to hers.
"It's…FISH…," I try to take a calming breath but its interrupted by the sharp thrust of my chin. "It's a travel journal. I…I remember that you said you always keep a diary of the places you visit."
Her silence and the somber look on her face certainly wasn't the reaction I was hoping for when I decided on the gift.
She strokes the leather again then opens it to flip through the pages. Part of me was hoping she wouldn't do that, and that she'd only find what I've put in there one day when she was sat on a beach, somewhere a million miles from here. She stops on the picture I impulsively added about two-thirds of the way through. It's just a basic sketch in black biro, but I was pretty impressed with the result. It looks kind of like one of those etchings you see in old books.
She reaches out to touch it but stops, her fingertips hovering just above the page, as she places all the familiar people I've added to the café scene. There's Delly and Hazel laughing at a table as they fold napkins, a couple of our regulars sat at the tables, and Rory is leaning on the bar talking to Katniss. Her fingers seem to search and then come to a stop at the open door to the kitchen. I'm there, small in the background, working at the stove.
She looks sad. I can't believe I screwed up so badly with what I believed was a thoughtful twist on something she said she would want.
"You should have been here," she says, pointing at where I've drawn Rory talking to her. Still not looking at me she adds in a quiet voice that doesn't sound like her. "I don't want to lose you."
"I'm not the one going anywhere." I speak without thinking and freeze when I realise that it probably sounded callous, but it's true. I'm not the one who is going to leave. She doesn't respond, perhaps she's expecting me to say something else. Like I'll wait for her, which I would - if I knew she was coming back. But she's not going on a two week holiday, she's planning on living and working on the other side of the world and I don't know when or if she's coming back. I can't stay behind waiting and hoping she'll return without really knowing if she will. It's going to hurt enough without putting myself through that as well.
"I'm scared," she says in barely a whisper.
"Scared?"
"Of us…you…the way I feel," she says, struggling with the words as if they're hard to admit.
I don't know what to tell her. I know what I want to say. I love you. But I think that would terrify her even more than she already looks. I reach out for her and she rests her cheek against my palm. "Does it help to know I'm just as scared?" But not for the same reasons I'm sure. I'm scared of allowing myself to love her and then suffering the inevitable pain of losing her.
"You always seem to know the right thing to say." The absurdity of her comment makes me laugh and she smiles back, the gravity of the moment alleviated somewhat.
"You know what I mean. Not those things obviously. But the rest of the time. You always seem to know what I need to hear."
Ironically I can't think of a thing to say in response, so I pull her into my arms for a kiss and then bring her to recline on the bed with me, her head on my chest.
"Don't take this the wrong way," she says without raising her head. "But I'm really glad you didn't have anywhere better to spend Christmas Day." She's repeating my words from the other night but she doesn't sound like she's teasing.
"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be," I tell her honestly, too tired to pretend I'm not in love with her.
She places a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. I'm sure it's not intentional, more likely it's simply a result of the way she's lying, but it still feels good. And despite the fact she's scared of falling in love with someone like me, I still feel hopeful. Enough so that perhaps tomorrow I might just bring up the subject of her return from Australia, or wherever it is she ends up travelling to.
The odds are for once in my favour, because her breathing has become shallow and regular, and her eyes have been closed for some time when "I Love you," bursts from me like an unwanted expletive. I hold my breath but she doesn't stir. Thankfully, somehow I haven't woken her and ruined what has been the best Christmas since I was a kid and I got that Scalextrics set.
.
.
I must have fallen asleep, as when I wake the light is still on and we're both still fully clothed on top of the covers. I ease myself out from under her and switch off the light before finding my way to the bathroom. On my return I kick off my jeans and slide back onto the bed beside her. She snuggles back into almost entirely the same position as before, as I pull up the blanket from the bottom of the bed to cover us
When I wake again the room is full of sunshine, the curtains cracked slightly open and I'm alone in bed. I close my eyes and must doze again, as I'm woken as the bed dips and a head is placed on my chest again.
"Mornin'," I mumble sleepily.
"Hi," she says, her chin resting on my chest as she gazes up at me. She looks almost shy and very un-Katniss like, or at least what people expect her to be like. She's scrubbed her face clean of yesterday's make up and I can smell toothpaste on her breath. She's no longer wearing her leggings and I can feel her bare skin and cold feet against my own legs.
"Come here," I try to move her up my body, but she puts her hands on top of mine to stop me.
"Wait, I've got something else I want to give you. It's not really a present," she explains, as she reaches over to open the drawer of the bedside table. She rights herself again to sit astride me a piece of paper in her hands and I shift to prop myself up against the headboard.
"It's just that I didn't want you to think…that just because I don't…I didn't date that I was…careless before I met you. When we started seeing each other regularly I um…I had a test …you know just be certain. I didn't say anything because we've been careful but I wanted you to know."
She hands me the piece of paper, it's the test results of her STD screening. Everything reads negative.
"I didn't think that you were…careless." I'm not sure how I felt when Rory made the comment about her not dating just fucking, but I certainly didn't condemn her for it. My own love life hasn't exactly been made up of steady serious relationships, more like short-lived flings followed by inevitable letdowns and disappointments. And although they were never really what I was looking for, I'm not a total stranger to one night stands. I'm not going to judge Katniss for her history anymore than I want her to judge me for mine. Our pasts are exactly that - the past.
"I had a test when I discovered that the last girl I was …um." Dating is definitely not the right word for what me and Clove were doing. 'Using me' is what most of my friends said she was doing - not answering my calls for weeks then turning up out of the blue, sometimes to 'borrow' money. "…I was seeing, was sleeping with someone else. It was clear. There wasn't anyone else until you. I still have the printout somewhere at home."
"I trust you," Katniss says. Slowly she raises the top she's wearing up and off over her head, so that she's straddling me in just her underwear. It's mismatching and nowhere near as sexy as the set she revealed on Christmas Eve, but she still looks amazing and honestly right now I just want to get her out of it as quickly as possible.
I watch as she unhooks the bra and slides it off, tossing it to the floor to join her top. With her hair loose and fallen about her bare shoulders in waves, she looks like some pre-Raphaelite depiction of a classical beauty.
"Are you just going to lie there?" She quirks a sarcastic eyebrow at me. "It's not some sort of peep show you know, audience participation is expected." Her earlier uncertainty and shyness it appears has been cast aside with her clothes, and she smirks down at me.
I slide my hands up over the smooth skin of her sides to reach her breasts and she sighs and rolls her hips against me as I feel her nipples harden at my touch.
She rocks against me again. "Why are you still dressed?" she breathes. I'm not for long, as we shed the remains of our clothes, and then I'm groaning as her slick, warmth slides against me.
"Do we…?" I begin.
She shakes her head answering me before I really have to ask. "I'm on the pill," she explains between gasps as she continues to move above me. And then, with her teeth biting into her bottom lip to almost successfully contain her exquisite moan, she lowers herself around me. She feels unbelievable.
Bracing her hands on my chest she takes it slow, rocking with deep intense movements until she finds her rhythm and picks up speed. I'm more than happy to let her set the pace, I'm almost afraid to do anything that could possibly change how amazing she feels. I don't think it's just the lack of barrier between us – although that certainly has something to do with it - it's more than that, and I could be reading more into it just because I want to, but it's not just the sex, we feel different too. Something has shifted and the way we are together, that feels different too.
Katniss gets louder as she gets closer to her climax. She's undoubtedly woken anyone who might have been sleeping in the room below, hell she's probably woken half the house, but I wouldn't try to quieten her for anything. My name is the last thing she says and that's it, the restraint I've somehow managed can't compete and I spill inside her.
"Shit," she sighs slumping down on me. "I'd forgotten how good it feels without a condom, but still, that was without a doubt…," she lets out a heavy breath. "That was…fuck… you felt."
I'm not sure I can take the credit, seeing as she just did all the work, but I'm not about to argue, my ego is happy to take the praise.
We pull the covers back up and lie like that for a long time just lazily kissing and me running my fingers through her hair until she says, "I'm hungry, do you want to get out of here?"
So I hope you all made it to Father Christmas' nice list and he brought you everything you were hoping for!
Sorry it took me ages to get round to posting this - I better hurry up as December is nearly over! This was originally twice as long but decided to split it and I'll post the second piece some time tomorrow - then you'll have something to save to read during your hangovers on Friday ;)
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
D
