I signed into my Fanfiction account and saw that I had four reviews for this story! I literally freaked out when I read them, and even though there were only four, I danced around the room with a silly grin on my face… So yeah…
Oh, and someone told me that I should have written 'Mom' instead of 'Mum', but I'm from England, so I find it easier to say 'Mum'. (Sorry for being awkward :3)
Anyway, here is next chapter of Sparks. I hope you enjoy it! :D
Peeta Mellark stays in my mind for the rest of the evening. I find that I can't sleep; tossing and turning so much that Prim threatens to push me out onto the floor if I wake her again.
The marks on his arms weren't just from accidents; his mother had inflicted them on him. I can't imagine Peeta's father harming his son intentionally.
'No, he would never do that. He's too kind.'I think to myself. Peeta obviously takes after his father. The way he cares for his family, his home and, once upon a time, me. He wouldn't have thrown me those two life-saving loaves unless he had cared about me.
Stop! Stop it now!
I feel my cheeks redden. I need to stop thinking about this boy. People like this have a tendency to root themselves into my heart and stay there. I can't bear to see those people in pain. I just can't.
"Oh for goodness sake Katniss!" Prim half whispers, half hisses at me.
"I'm sorry, I'll go to sleep now." I apologise.
"Screw that, I'm sleeping with Mum." Prim mutters.
"Prim! Language!" I say.
"Sorry." I can imagine my younger sister rolling her eyes in the darkness. For eleven, she sure knows how to speak her mind. Once my sister as settled herself in bed with Mum, I climb out from the blankets, slip on my father's hunting boots and wrap a coat around my body, hiding my patched-up pyjamas.
The night air is muggy, cooler than the fiery heat of daytime, but thick and humid. I walk down the worn dirt track, passing the silent houses of the Seam. From the position of the moon in the dark night sky, I estimate it to be about five a.m. I amble along with no desire to go to a certain place, I just want to get some fresh air and clear my head. Peeta Mellark. The baker's son. A Merchant. I groan in frustration. How do I feel about this boy?
"Oh for goodness sake Katniss! Get a grip!" I say out loud, before clapping my hand over my mouth and looking around, checking that no one has heard me. Everything is silent. I remove my hand.
I sit on a fallen tree at the edge of the Seam to collect my thoughts. Who can I talk to about this? I laugh at the thought of talking to Gale about how I feel. His face would be priceless, his discomfort even more so, but I wouldn't feel comfortable with it anyway. My mother and Prim are out of the question. Prim is way to young to understand, and my mother, well, she wouldn't listen to me. Madge could be a possible choice, but I've never really spoken to her about anything like this. Heck, we've hardly spoken at all!
Standing up from the contorted bark of the tree, I continue my aimless walk through District 12. A light breeze starts to blow, causing the strands of hair that have escaped my braid to flutter in the wind.
I find myself in the Merchant part of town. The Mellark bakery is just down the street. I can see that it's basked in a golden glow from the ovens as they start the day early, catering for the miners who wake early for work. I find the idea of walking down there very inviting, but what would they think of me wandering around the district at night in my pyjamas?
"Well, hello there!" A deep voice slurs from behind me. I turn and to my horror, I find Head Peacekeeper Cray standing in the doorway of his house, bottle in hand. I squint into the darkness and see the shape of a girl shuffling away from the evil man. I shudder. Everyone knows what goes on in that building. No one stops it though. He's the Head Peacekeeper after all, and nobody tells on someone who could have you shot with the wave of a hand.
"Hello Mr Cray, sir." I say politely, wrapping my coat tighter around my body.
"What is a girl like you doing outside at a time like this?" Cray asks, scratching at the stubble on his neck.
"I'm just getting some fresh air and exercise before the sun comes out." I say quickly.
"I don't know about fresh air, but I could give you quite the workout, if you're up to it." Cray says. I feel my jaw fall slack and my skin begins to prickle in disgust.
"Not tonight, sir."
"Oh, are you sure?" Cray says. I nod. I wish I wasn't so close to him. Two meters isn't a big enough distance from the man. I can smell the pungent stench of alcohol and have to fight the urge to throw up right there on the pavement. "Absolutely positive?" He continues.
"Yes sir. I'm positive." I say. "Goodnight." I start to turn away and feel a hand on my arm, pulling me back. I squeal and try to pull away but Cray is too strong.
"You don't want to say no to me, young lady." Cray hisses, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I can feel his hot breath on my neck as he chuckles. "Feisty, are we?"
"Help me! Someone help me!" I shriek, causing Cray to slap a hand over my mouth.
"Shh, don't make a sound." Cray instructs me. I freeze, my heart thumping erratically in my chest, my eyes wide in panic. "You know, I've seen you around town and always thought you were pretty." I whimper as his hand roams down my chest, tensing up when he begins to pull away my coat. I fight the urge to kick him and get away, knowing that he's stronger than me and would come after me if I did get away. My already jumpy breathing speeds up when his rough fingers make contact with the skin on my stomach.
"Hey! Katniss! Is that you?" Someone shouts from further down the street. My head whips up and I stare desperately into the darkness. Peeta is standing a few houses away, his face a mixture of fear, confusion and anger. He's already wearing an apron I notice, ready to begin work.
"Go home boy! This is not your business!" Cray shouts at him.
"It isn't Katniss' business either!" Peeta says, walking towards us, his eyes locked on mine. "Come on Cray, you know she won't co-operate. She doesn't want this."
"Go home." Cray says, his grip on me tightening. A frightened whimper escapes my lips. "Shut up you!" Cray hisses at me.
"Think about it Mr Cray, sir." Peeta reasons. Cray pauses, spins me around and licks his lips, his sweaty face inches from mine.
"You'll come back. When winter arrives you'll be back for sure." He pushes me away and returns to his house, slamming his door. I collapse onto the dusty street, the tears I was trying to hold in flooding down my cheeks.
"Hey, come on. It's alright." Peeta says hurriedly, running toward me and taking my hand. I open my mouth to speak but a strangled cry replaces my words. I pull my coat around me with shaking hands, my vision blurring. I flinch when Peeta brushes away the tears that are dampening my cheeks. "I'm not going to hurt you." He says softly.
"He just- just…" I struggle to continue.
"Come with me. You don't want to be sitting on the floor outside his house, do you?" I shake my head and Peeta helps me up, putting an arm around me and guiding me down the street.
"I can't go in there! Not like this!" I say when I realise that Peeta is heading straight for the bakery.
"It's fine, honest. My father won't mind." I look up at him and try to breath properly and make myself look as presentable as I can before entering the bakery through the back door. The bakery kitchen is basked in the glow of the ovens and I can feel the heat radiating off the flames the minute I step over the threshold.
"Peeta, how long does it take you to put the trash in the bin?" Mr Mellark says, turning from a large wooden table to face us. His eyes widen when he sees me. "What's happened?"
"Cray." Peeta says simply. "He grabbed her."
"Would you like to sit down?" Peeta's father asks, not waiting for an answer. He pulls out a stool and I sit on it, wiping my eyes.
"Katniss, tell me what happened." Peeta instructs, leaning against the table.
"I couldn't sleep so I went outside for some fresh air and when I walked past Cray's house he grabbed me and… and…" I trail off, hugging myself and looking down. Shame threatens to engulf me.
"Are you alright? He didn't do anything to you did he?" Peeta asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
"You got there just in time." I admit.
"Well done son." Mr Mellark says. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to anyone else, would we?" I stay silent. "I'll be at the front if you need me." He says, exiting the room.
"Thank you Peeta." I say, looking up my saviour.
"You're welcome Katniss." Peeta replies, a small, but pained smile appearing on his lips.
"Why did you do that?" I ask. "If it had been anyone else they would have just ignored it, continued on with whatever they were doing."
"I guess I'm not like everyone else." Peeta says. I smile up at him. "But I've seen so many girls outside that damned house. So many broken girls." He pauses, shaking his head. "Yet they go back time and time again."
"They have to. Otherwise they wouldn't be able to eat." I say.
"Would you ever do that? Give yourself up to that revolting man?" Peeta asks. I feel a burning blush prickle over my cheeks. "You haven't done it before have you?"
"No, no. I haven't." I say quietly. Peeta lets out a breath. "But I'm not gonna lie. I've considered it."
"Katniss, you can't!" Peeta says this with such passion that I sit up with surprise.
"You know when I first thought about it?" I ask him. He shrugs. "When I was eleven. In the months after my father died."
"You were eleven Katniss!"
"I'm not proud of it." I say. "And you know what saved me?" Peeta shakes his head. "The bread that you threw me."
"You remember that?" Peeta asks, staring down at me in astonishment.
"Of course I do. You saved my life, and Prim's. And my mother's."
"Have you considered it since then?"
"Of course I have, every winter." I admit. "I struggle to feed my family."
"I'm sorry, Katniss. Really, I am."
"It's alright. Don't worry about it." I say. Peeta smiles ruefully at me and I press my lips together. "Do you wake up this early every morning?" I ask, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Everyday except Sundays." Peeta says, almost with pride.
"I wouldn't be able to do that." I say. Peeta laughs.
"You get used to it." He says. "Just like you probably get used to treading quietly in the forest when you go hunting."
"How did you know that I hunt?" I ask stupidly.
"I eat the squirrels that you shoot. Always through the eye."
"I've gotten better with practice." I say. My eyes flicker to the clock on the wall of the kitchen. "Oh god!" I say, standing up.
"What is it?" Peeta asks.
"I need to get home before Prim wakes up." I say.
"Take something with you." Peeta says, quickly grabbing a paper bag and putting a fresh loaf of bread in it.
"I can't take that. I can't pay you with anything." I say, heading for the door.
"It's fine." Peeta says. I stare at the bag in his arms, my stomach growling as the smell of freshly baked bread wafts into my nose.
"Alright, but I'm going to pay you back with something." I persist.
"If you must." Peeta says, pushing the bag into my arms. I hesitate, staring at the boy who has saved my twice already, jumping when Mr Mellark bursts into the room.
"Your mother is coming." He says, standing in the doorway. I look up at the ceiling when I hear a floorboard creak.
"I'll see you at school Peeta, and thanks for the bread."
"I expect a squirrel in return." Peeta laughs quietly.
"I'll make sure I shoot one." I promise. Peeta's eyes widen when the wooden stairs creak, signalling the arrival of his mother.
"Go Katniss, quickly." Peeta says, pushing open the door.
"Don't let her hurt you." I whisper to him. He stays silent, biting his lip. I place a reassuring hand on his arm before turning and hurrying down the street, the orange glow of the sun rising over the mountains brightening the street. I can still feel Peeta's strong arm around me, his eyes fixed on me as he reasoned with Cray. My stomach fills with nervous butterflies.