Yassou! This is the tenth chapter of Sparks! (Does a happy dance) :D I hope you enjoy it!
After a week of resting on our couch, Peeta finally decides that he isn't to live here without paying us back somehow.
"It's the least I can do." He says, sitting at the kitchen table. "I've been a burden to you, and I owe you for everything you've done for me."
"Peeta, it's been a delight having you here." Mum says, smiling over at the baker's son. "You don't owe us."
"I do." Peeta insists, looking between my mother, sister and myself.
"You're injured Peeta, you still need to recover."
"Then let me do something that won't… hurt me." Peeta says. "Please, let me help you in some sort of way."
"We don't need your help." I snap, Peeta's choice of words annoying me more than they really should.
"Katniss…" My mother warns, turning her head to look at me.
"I don't mean it in a charity sort of way, I mean it in a way that you've done something for me, so I should pay you back."
"No you don't." I add with a scowl.
"I do. Then we're equal." I groan and rest my head in my hands.
"Since it's obvious that you're not going to budge, maybe I can find something for you to do." My mother gives in.
"Come on Prim, we're going to school." I say, pushing my chair away, the legs scraping noisily over the floor.
"Katniss, make sure you bring Peeta's school work back." Mum instructs. "I don't want to be held responsible for him missing out on his education."
"Why bother?" I ask. "We don't learn anything."
"Katniss!" My mother says, shooting me a glare.
"Fine." I narrow my eyes and walk out the front door with Prim. I sigh as our house gets further and further away. Prim looks up at me.
"You shouldn't be so horrible to him."
"What do you mean?" I ask, staring ahead at the person walking in front of us.
"You know exactly what I mean." Prim says. "Peeta is trying to help us-"
"I don't want his help." I snap.
"… And all you do is throw everything back into his face! He's trying to repay us for helping him!"
"Prim." I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "You don't understand."
"Understand what?"
"That I don't want him to repay me. In any way. I hate owing people, and people owing me." I say, looking down at the ground and scuffing my heal into the dust.
"Does he owe you?"
"No."
"Do you owe him?" My sister asks. I glance at her and shrug my shoulders.
"No. I don't." I say finally. Prim raises an eyebrow. "I'll meet you by the tree at the end of the day." I say when we reach the school gates.
"Don't push him away." Prim says, shooting me a smile before running towards her friends. I push a strand of hair that's fallen in front of my eyes back behind my ear and sigh. The school bell rings. I head to class.
"How's Peeta?" Madge asks me as we walk towards the cafeteria later that day at lunch.
"He's fine. He's up and about now, and Mum says he'll be able to go back to his home possibly in a few days."
"It's a shame." Madge says, sitting down at our usual table.
"What is?" I ask.
"That Peeta is going back there."
"I know." I grimace. "He shouldn't go back to the person who hurt him in the first place."
"No, I mean it's a shame that he's not going to be living with you any more." Madge smiles at me. I frown. "Ever since you took him in, you've been smiling more. You care about him Katniss."
"What are you getting at?" I ask.
"Who was it that was freaking out when Peeta went missing? Who was in tears when they couldn't find him? Who went through all those pregnancy rumours with Peeta and stuck up for him?" I look down at my lap. "You did Katniss. And I don't believe for one second that you don't care for him. In fact, I think your feelings for him and stronger for him every day."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do." Madge says.
"I need to get Peeta's school work from Mr Markham." I say quietly, standing and walking away. I hear Madge run after me.
"Katniss! Listen to me!" She says. I slow down slightly. "Just think about how you feel. I'd hate for you to miss out."
"What would I miss out on?"
"Peeta." Madge answers. I bite my lip.
"Why do you suddenly care so much?" I ask.
"Because Peeta loves you." I freeze.
"You don't know that."
"I do."
"How?"
"He told me Katniss. He's loved you since he was five years old." Madge tells me. "Ask him yourself if you don't believe me."
"I can't just ask him something like that." I mumble.
"Sure you can!" Madge says enthusiastically. "And don't push him away. Don't push your feelings away because you're afraid of getting hurt." I turn to face Madge and sigh.
"You know that I consider you as a friend, don't you?" I ask. Madge smiles, tilting her head to one side.
"Yeah." She grins. We carry on walking.
I knock lightly on the door of Mr Markham's classroom and push the door open.
"Oh, Miss Everdeen!" Mr Markham says, ushering Madge and me forward. "Are you collecting Mr Mellark's work?"
"Yeah." I say, standing by the desk.
"Okay, here it is." The teacher says, handing me a blue folder filled with paper. "And can you tell him that he's missed his exam but he can take it when he gets back."
"Will do." I smile, taking the folder and heading back out of the classroom.
"What subject does he teach?" Madge asks me once we're in the corridor.
"Maths, I think." I say.
"That's an awful lot of school work." Madge comments, pulling the folder open. She rifles through the papers and then pauses, a frown on her face.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I think you've been given the wrong one.-" Madge tells me. "This one has maths worksheets in it, but it also has loads of drawings at the back."
Give it here, let me have a look." I say, taking the folder from my friend. I look through the sheets of equations until I find a dozen or so drawings and a small rectangular notebook at the back. "We should take it back. This doesn't look like the right one." I tell Madge. She nods and we head back the way we came.
"Sir, I think you've given us the wrong stuff." I say, holding the folder out at Mr Markham.
"No, that's the right one." The teacher says.
"But it's got loads of drawings in it." I say.
"Yeah, it's definitely Peeta's then. He's quite the doodler." Mr Markham says, pausing to take a sip of whatever is in his mug. "He's always drawing on the sides of his worksheets, and in his workbook."
"Oh, okay." I say quietly, retracting my arm.
"Tell Peeta that I hope he's feeling well." Mr Markham adds.
"Alright." I say, and Madge and I walk back into the corridor.
"Let me look at those!" Madge says, snatching the folder and running ahead, opening the folder as she runs. Suddenly she stops and I collide into her, my rubbery shoe soles skidding on the shiny floor. "These aren't just doodles, these are works of art!" Madge exclaims. I take the paper she's holding and taking a look.
"Bloody hell…" I breathe, my eyes widening. A picture of the sun setting over the mountains surrounding District 12, though in grey pencil, looks so vibrant that I feel that it's as good as any photograph. I can almost imagine the striking reds and oranges, the soft yellows and pinks, and the dark purples fading into the black night sky.
"How can people draw so well?" Madge asks, rifling through the folder. "This is amazing!"
"Wait, Madge, we shouldn't be looking through Peeta's stuff." I say.
"Katniss. If he really didn't want anyone to see this, he wouldn't leave this in his maths folder." Madge says, raising and eyebrow. I sigh and Madge grins, taking the rest of the drawing out.
Peeta has a talent, and an amazing one at that. He's drawn on scraps of paper the size of my palm, but filled those small spaces with sketches of District 12, capturing it's beauty with nothing by cheap paper and a pencil. I slide the pieces of paper back into the folder and move over to stand by Madge, our shoulders toughing as we stare at the notebook in Madge's hands. She turns the pages slowly, her mouth open in an 'o' as she stares. I've got the exact same expression plastered on my face.
"Katniss, look at this one." Madge whispers. In the centre of the page is a girl, her hair in a braid similar to mine, her head down as she kicks up dust from the ground.
"It's amazing how detailed he's gotten these." I say.
"You can't see it, can you?" Madge says.
"See what?" I ask, looked up at my friend.
"It's you."
"Nah, it's not." I say, shaking my head.
"Just look!" Madge says, grazing her fingers over the paper. "That braid is your braid. Those boots, they're yours."
"It must be someone else." I dismiss her thought. Madge turns the page.
"Yeah, that's obviously not you." She murmurs, a hint of sarcasm hiding under her disbelief as she points to another drawing.
This drawing is far more detailed than all the others, which seemed impossible until now. I reach out to the touch the page, but draw back at the last moment, not wanting to destroy Peeta's hard work. It's a drawing of a girl, looking out from the page over her shoulder. A thick glossy braid is over one shoulder, and her lips are slightly parted in a smile. Her cheekbones are well defined, and several strands of hair are flying in front of her face.
But it's her eyes that really stand out from the page. The Seam grey has been captured perfectly, thick eyelashes framing her eyes.
I find that I can't drag myself from staring into the grey pits of the girl's eyes. Her eyes hold shadows of grief and sadness, but there's a small light, a spark,that makes me feel like there is happiness in her life. Not much, but enough to light her eyes up.
"That's… me!" I say, my eyes wide.
"It's you."
"But it can't be me. That girl is beautiful. She doesn't look like she's from the Seam!"
"Obviously he sees you in a different light."
"That's crazy."
"It's crazy that you don't see what this means." Madge says, looking up at me. "He loves you Katniss. You need to let the wall you've built up down and let him in."
"But if I do that I'll just get hurt. People will get hurt."
"Katniss, the last thing Peeta would do is hurt you." Madge says. She puts the book away, and hands it to me. I bite my lip. The bell rings and I look down.
"Come on, we don't want be late." I say. Madge groans and follows me into our last class of the day. I sit down at my desk and put the folder of Peeta's schoolwork into my bag.
At the end of the day, I wait under the only tree in the school playground for Prim. I watch all the students flood out of the school gates, laughing and joking with each other.
"Katniss!" Prim shouts excitedly. "Guess what we did in Mining Sciences today!"
"What did you do?" I ask.
"We started growing crystals from coal!" Prim says, her eyes wide.
"You did?" I ask, trying to act surprised, even though every student in the school has done that experiment before. "How did you do it?"
"Well, we smashed the coal up into pieces and then put it in bowls, and then mixed it with some stuff, like water and salt." Prim grins up at me. "The teacher said we'd have crystals in a week or two!"
"That's cool." I say. "I bet it'll look really pretty."
"I hope so." Prim says as we walk through the school gates.
"Anything else happen today?" I ask her, my school bag swinging by my side.
"Um… Marty Flack tried to take the coal we were given home. He hid it in his pockets."
"Did he get told off?"
"No, the teachers didn't see. He just told them that they forgot to give him any." Prim frowns. I shrug, staring ahead. Marty Flack is the Tanner's son. Why would he be stealing coal? The Merchants have enough wood to power their fuel their fireplaces and ovens, so why would he need coal?
Once we reach our house, my nose twitches at a wonderful aroma wafting through the air. Prim looks up at me, her eyes twinkling
"What is that?" She asks, pushing opening the door.
"I have no idea." I tell her. "But it smells delicious." We dump our shoes by the door and go into the kitchen. Prim and I stand in the doorway, and I have to fight the urge to grin when I see the scene in front of me. Peeta and my mother, dancing in the middle of the room to the crackly music of an antique radio my mother kept on the mantle piece as a reminder of her old life as a Merchant. Peeta spins my mother around and she laughs. Prim giggles.
"Oh! Hey guys!" Peeta says, looking over at the sound of my sister's laughter.
"Primrose, Katniss!" My mother smiles in our direction.
"Care to join in?" Peeta asks. Prim runs forward, leaving her bag on the kitchen table, and takes my mother's hands. They spin around the room, their golden hair spinning out into the air as they twirl.
"What is this?" I ask, putting my bag beside Prim's.
"It's music Katniss. And dancing." Peeta says sarcastically, motioning to the radio with his good arm.
"Oh, ha-ha." I say, narrowing my eyes.
"I just thought it would be fun." Peeta says. "Now, are you going to be boring or let me have this dance?" I let out an over-dramatic sigh but walk forward. Peeta bows. I grin and curtsy slightly. Peeta places his hands tenderly on my hips – I try not to blush- and I wrap my arms around his neck. We move in a small circle, and then Peeta spins me out into a circle. I laugh as he pulls me back towards his chest.
"How did you learn to dance so well?" I ask him.
"My mother told me that the way to a woman's heart was by dancing." He says.
"How cheesy." I remark.
"I know." He laughs.
"I'd say the way to a woman's heart is with cake. And cheese buns." I say, looking down at my feet.
"Cake and cheese buns?" Peeta asks.
"Yup." I nod.
"Do you remember getting cheese buns when you were little?"
"Yeah, my father would take me every Friday after school and we'd split one."
"You pushed me over, when you ran into the shop at high speed."
"I'm sorry Peeta." I say.
"And it was more than once." He chuckles.
"Really Peeta, I'm sorry." I say, my cheeks burning.
"Don't be. It was ages ago." He smiles.
"What is that smell?" I ask.
"Cheese buns." Peeta smirks.
"What?" I ask. "How did you do that? We have hardly any grain, and the cheese ran out."
"Prim made some this morning. Told me that you liked cheese buns." My mouth drops open.
"You're welcome!" Prim calls to me from the other side of the room. I glare at her, but a smile stays on my lips.
"I want to see these cheese buns then!" I say, pulling away and putting my hands on my hips. "And they better be good."
"I'm a baker. Of course they'll be good." Peeta smirks. I roll my eyes. Prim and I clear the table and Peeta places a tray of cheese buns in the middle of the table. Prim sits down eagerly, swaying slightly in excitement. Mum sits beside Prim and I sit beside Peeta. Everyone pauses for a second, and then Prim caves, grabbing a cheese bun and taking a bite. Peeta and I exchange glances and then dig in along with my mouth. I sink my teeth into the bun and my shoulders relax. The bread is still made from the cheap grain we normally use, but the melted goats cheese on top makes it taste a hundred times better than it normally would.
"This is… amazing." I mumble through a mouthful of bread and cheese.
"How can you make bland bread taste so nice?" Mum asks, staring up at Peeta with wide eyes. Peeta raises an eyebrow and shrugs.
"I added some basil… Not much." He says.
"Well I've never tasted anything so nice." Prim says, her grin stretching from ear to ear.
"I'm glad you like it." Peeta says. We eat in silence, savouring the taste of this meal.
It's later that evening when Prim is in bed and Mum is having a bath that I decide to thank Peeta.
"Thank you." I say, putting a hand on his arm as he hands me the last plate for me to wash up in the sink.
"For what?" Peeta asks.
"For everything. I haven't seen my mother, or Prim for that matter, smile so much for a long time." I say. "My mother was laughing. Laughing!"
"I'm glad I could help." Peeta says. I move closer and wrap my arms around him. He stiffens for a second, but then moves his arm around me as well. I breathe in his scent, closing my eyes and smiling. "I'm not the only one trying to help here." Peeta says, his voice rumbling beneath my ear as I rest my head on his chest. "You're fighting all the time. For Prim. For your mother."
"Don't big me up. I'm not like that."
"You are."
"I'm not. Honestly." I bring my soaking wet hands; dripping with suds, up to Peeta's face cover his cheeks in soap and water. He closes his eyes and grins.
"I was wrong. You are a complete devil." He says, dunking the dishrag into the sink and wiping it over my face. I gasp, step back and scoop a handful of water up before flinging it at Peeta. He does the same. I run outside, barefooted and only in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I step out onto the house porch and find Peeta following me, the empty tub of dirty water in his hands.
"What are you going to do with that?" I ask him, one hand stretch out in front of me in a defensive manoeuvre.
"I'm just watering the plants." Peeta says. I look around at the dry cracked earth surrounding my house, which hasn't seen rain for almost two months.
"Which plants?" I ask. "The hydrangeas or tulips?"
"I'd say you're more of a dandelion."
"A weed?"
"Yeah, but a beautiful one at that. A flower that is beautiful but also hardy. " Peeta grins. "I'd say it's my favourite type of plant." He looks pointedly at me. I look down at my feet. It all comes rushing back to me.
I couldn't work up the courage to walk up to Peeta and thank him for the bread. Ask him how I could repay him. It seemed so simple. But every time I thought I could do it, I looked up and saw him- standing in the corridors, sitting with his friends at lunch, laughing in the playground- and then I would turn away. And then, the day after he gave me the bread, I caught his eye and smiled at him. Just a small smile, it barely reached my eyes, but Peeta saw it. He smiled back and looked away, but not before I saw the bright red welt on his cheek.
That touched something deep inside me. I hated that he had taken a beating for me. It also meant that I owed him for much more than I first thought. And then I saw it, the first dandelion of the spring growing by the wall. I picked it and knew how I was going to survive. I knew how we were going to survive.
I'm brought out of my thoughts when Peeta –with one arm- dumps the tub of water over my head. My eyes widen and my mouth drops open in a grin of disbelief. I look up at Peeta, water dripping off the end of my braid and down my back, my clothes soaked.
"So that was what you were going to do." I say. My eyes flicker to the pail of water about a foot to my left. The water is freezing, left outside for Lady to drink, chilled in the night air.
"It was a good idea, wasn't it?" Peeta grins. I look behind him and scream, pointing in terror at the shadowy street behind him.
"Oh my god!" I shout. Peeta whirls around and I grab the bucket.
"What?" Peeta says, stepping towards me, still facing away. "What's wrong Kat-" He's cut off when he turns his head to face me and I chuck the water into his face. He coughs and splutters for a few seconds and then looks up at me.
"Karma." I say, narrowing my eyes.
"Well played my friend, well played." He says.
"Katniss! Peeta!" Mum hisses, peering out of the door. "Get inside! And stop making so much noise!"
"Sorry." I say.
"Sorry Mrs Everdeen." Peeta says sheepishly.
"And why are you all wet?" Mum asks, staring between the two of us. Peeta and I exchange glances and burst out laughing. I run up the creaky porch steps and slip inside, Peeta following close behind. Peeta and I end up sitting on the floor in front of the roaring fire, drying off our clothes.
"I got your school work from Mr Markham." I say, pulling the blue folder out of my school bag and returning to sit beside Peeta.
"Yay…" Peeta says sarcastically. I grin. He pulls out some of the papers and looks them over. A loose sheet slides out onto the floor and I grab it before the fire can singe it. It's a picture of a dandelion. "Oh, sorry." Peeta stammers, taking the paper from me, his cheeks reddening.
"No, no. You're a wonderful artist." I say. "The drawings are amazing, so lifelike." I pause and look down. It's my turn to blush.
"You looked through my drawings?" Peeta asks. I look up. He doesn't seem angry. In fact, he seems embarrassed, worried.
"I'm sorry…" I say. "But Madge commented on the amount of work in the folder, and we looked through it and saw the drawings." Peeta grimaces, and looks down. "I know we shouldn't have done it, and I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Peeta whispers.
"You have a gift Peeta." I say, squeezing his hand. His blue eyes flicker to my hand on his. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. What's to be embarrassed about?"
"Which other drawings did you see?" He asks, finally looking up at me, his mouth in a line.
"Oh… If you mean the one of me… Yeah. We did." I admit.
"Are you annoyed? Creeped out?" Peeta asks, his eyes shimmering.
"If anything, I'm confused."
"Why?"
"Why would you draw me? Of all people?" I ask. "You could draw anything. Anyone!" Peeta lets out a short laugh and runs his hand through his hair.
"You're fun to draw." He says. "That one picture in the back of my maths book… I had to draw it. You were smiling, and I never saw you smile very often."
"Where was that?" I ask. "Where was I in that drawing?"
"You were at school." He says. "Picking up Prim." I nod. It makes sense.
"Prim is one of the only people who can make me smile." I say softly.
"I've noticed." Peeta says.
"You have?"
"I notice a lot of things Katniss." Peeta says. I rest my head on his shoulder.
"Well, don't be worried. I'm not freaked out." I say. "I'm flattered."
"Good. I'd hate to push you away." Peeta says, wrapping an arm around waist.