I call Gale about a zillion times. Still no answer. I don't know what to do. Should I drive home? What if he's still here in Boston? I'm in no condition to drive anyway.
I sit back on my bed, my phone in my hands, staring into space.
I finally fall asleep from exhaustion early in the morning.
The smell of crispy cheese buns coaxes me out from my room in the middle of the afternoon.
Peeta pretty much knows something big is up since Gale didn't come home last night. He's not stupid. He's trying to be discrete, but I can feel his gaze bearing on me while we eat.
"Are you alright?" he finally asks.
"I still don't want to talk about it," I warn him curtly and he looks down to the floor.
I'm ashamed of myself again. Peeta didn't do anything wrong. But how come it sort of feels like he did?
"I'm sorry," I sigh apologetically. "I'm better than yesterday, thanks to you," I add with a small smile.
He looks pleased. I ask him to tell me about his night, to change the subject. He seems to understand and makes small talk for the both of us while we finish breakfast.
I excuse myself to take a shower.
When I come out of the bathroom, Annie and Finn are standing with Peeta by the island and they stop whispering among themselves as soon as they see me. Real obvious guys.
Of course they must be wondering what happened. I have the feeling Peeta warned them about my mood because they don't ask any question.
Instead, they try to convince me to go out with them tonight. It's them three against me, and I feel powerless to resist them. I shouldn't go out tonight, I know, I should try to reach Gale again. But my heart is not in it, I feel weary, I want to think about something else. Anything else.
I find myself agreeing to go.
They talk and I listen. They really do try to cheer me up. We grab supper at an Asian place first, and I glance at my phone every 2 minutes. I must not be very good company. I am like a statue among them, not able to say or do anything, but also unable to leave.
When we switch from the restaurant to the bar, I close my phone in anger. I understand I did a horrible thing, but how can he just leave me hanging like that? I'm actually worried. I really hope he didn't do something stupid.
Things are pretty slow at the bar tonight. I stay firmly camped in my melancholia. After about half an hour, Haymitch rolls his eyes at me and nod, motioning for me to go sit with him behind the bar.
"What happened, sweetheart? You look like a mess."
"Gee, thanks," I wryly laugh.
He pours himself a shot and gives me a meaningful glance. "I'm serious."
I almost tell him to leave me alone but then refrain myself and look around me. Peeta is sending worried glances my way while talking with Finn a few feet away from us. He can't hear us over the music. Annie is explaining something to a girl, gesturing and Johanna is flirting with a hot jock type of guy.
They are all so passionate about their jobs and their lives. They always seem to know exactly what they want.
I realize Haymitch is the only person I can explain this to, the only one who really understands what it feels to be screwed up inside.
"Gale asked me to marry him and I said no," I admit shamefully, biting my lips.
He lets out a breath, clearly surprised.
"Was it because of what I said?" He raises his eyebrows at me questioningly.
I dismiss the thought at once, he's talking crazy again. What he said threw me for a loop and muddled my feelings, but it didn't change me.
"As much as I would like to place the blame on you, this is entirely on myself," I answer, my lips tightening, my heart starting to ache again. "Still, why did you tell me those things, Haymitch? I mean: why now?"
He sighs before grabbing my hand and squeezing it for a second.
"At first, I didn't say anything. I thought things were progressing nicely, between you and Peeta. I didn't want to interfere. But when you came back from your trip, I realized you were still in love with Gale, and to be frank it shocked me. We all thought otherwise. I like you a lot, sweetheart, but I've known Peeta for years, and I couldn't let you play him anymore, unknowingly or not."
He takes a gulp of his beer, as I try to process his words. He's stuck on Peeta again, and I'm starting to think he might be right.
My next sentence gets caught in my throat as I spot Gale at the entrance. He looks bad, his clothes are all in disarray and he doesn't look like he slept at all since yesterday. I go to him immediately, relieved that he's okay.
I swallow my anger form before and give him a small, tentative smile. He doesn't smile back, in fact, he looks furious.
"I think I figured it out," he barks bitterly, and I realize he's drunk.
I cringe, this is probably not going to go well.
"I've known you all your life, you never used to come to places like this before you met him," he points bitterly to Haymitch.
I frown, what is he saying?
I thread carefully, waiting for him to clarify. He's really not acting like himself. He seems to take insult in my silence.
"That's it, isn't it? You're always hanging around here, did he fill your head with crap about me? Did something happened between you two?"
My eyes widen in total shock. The fact that Gale thinks Haymitch is the reason I didn't accept the ring is comical. Like I could entertain any romantic thoughts about Haymitch. I feel insulted, slightly amused and somewhat guilty all at the same time.
I sober up quickly though when I realized Gale is now marching towards Haymitch with the clear intent to punch him. I stare at the scene in disbelief: Gale throws a punch right in Haymitch's jaw and instead of staying down and reason with him, the moron throws a punch back.
I launch myself forward, suddenly remembering how my legs function. I have to stop this nonsense. I haven't made two steps forward when Peeta interferes.
The irony is not lost on me that Peeta is the one to put himself between them, avoiding the punches as he separates them. They struggle against him, cursing, but he soon have them at arm's length.
Peeta is always so sweet, I always forget that even though he is a bit shorter than Gale and Haymitch, he has the strongest stature.
"Enough," Peeta shouts loudly. His tone is commanding and the fighting parties both let their arms fall on their sides. Peeta's throws me a questioning and confused look, waving for me to come closer. I don't know if I can take any more drama tonight. I'm tempted to turn back and run away but somehow his serious gaze dissuades me.
This is my mess, I can't let him clean it up alone.
I look between Gale and Haymitch. They are both wasted, but I guess they can still see reason. This is all so ridiculous I feel like this is a prank, a bad one perhaps, but it still doesn't feel real.
As the three guys are gathering their breaths, Johanna comes from behind and forces Haymitch to get upstairs, grabbing him by his ear. I try to get closer to Gale but he sees me coming and storms off, yelling something that through his drunken speech sounded a lot like: "We're done."
I finally reach Peeta and avoid his stare. I'm afraid of what I'll see in his eyes.
"I'm going home," I declare. I need to be alone, need to figure things out. I turn and start walking towards the exit.
"Wait, I'm coming with you," Peeta says, coming after me.
"You don't have to leave just because—"
"No, I'm not. I mean: there's something I need to do at home."
"Okay." I can't keep him from coming home to his apartment, after all.
We walk back home in silence. I'm trying not to think about the last time we went home together from Haymitch's bar. I give him sideway glances, trying to figure out if he's thinking about that night too. He seems deep in thought, his face unreadable.
Once home, I grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, my throat dry. I almost hope Peeta will go by me into his room and leave me alone. But he doesn't.
Instead, I can feel his body heat closing in behind me and I turn towards him, startled.
His deep blue eyes are scrutinizing me. I find myself hypnotized by them. When he lifts a hand and put it on the side of my face, I know he's going to kiss me. Everything is moving in slow motion, giving me time to act, but I'm frozen in place. Contrary to the kiss I planted on his lips a week ago, this kiss is unequivocally deliberate. His hand angles my face towards him and he dips his head to my level. He presses his lips to mine in the sweetest manner, giving me ample time to pull back. It makes my head spin.
When he pulls back an inch and talks, his voice is not as steady as usual. It trembles with vulnerability when he whispers: "I needed to do it now, because tomorrow, you and Gale will make up, and I'll never have this chance again."
My heart is hammering in my chest. I nod in agreement at his words. He's probably right. In all this confusion, I anchor myself to the thought that tonight is an anomaly, that everything will rationalize soon, will right itself with time. His blue irises are calling upon me to deny what he said, but I can't. "Okay," I whisper, not knowing what to say in this situation.
His hand stays in place, his thumb stroking my cheek like a feather. He's waiting for me to make the next move. Heat is radiating from his hand, making my cheek tingle. He's so close, I can't think straight. I can feel his breath on my lips, and his longing tone is making my stomach churns.
I feel as if I'm standing at the edge of a very dangerous cliff.
Nothing good happened this week end. My mind is dizzy, my body feels like a ton of lead from all the stress and my heart is raw. Everything during this never ending two days span has been shit stacked on top of crap. Everything but that kiss. That kiss felt good.
I know it's fucked up, but I close the distance between us and kiss him again. He tenses up at first, clearly surprised. I'm almost expecting him to stop me when he grabs a hold of my hair and deepens the kiss instead.
His kiss is warm and hungry, igniting something foreign deep within me. His hand is on the nape of my neck, pulling me to him. I place mine in the same spot, pulling him in too, and he moans huskily. The sound makes my legs turn to jelly.
Backing me up against the island for support, his body presses into me. His heat surrounds me, making my skin burn for his touch. I melt into him. His hands travel down to my waist to pin me in place, caressing my sides on their way down. My breath gets caught in my throat when his thumbs sneak under my shirt and stroke delicately the sensitive skin of my waistline. I catch myself wondering what he could do with those hands, elsewhere.
Peeta's hands. Peeta's body. Peeta's lips.
My world is spinning.
A loud ringing sound startles us. Our mouths go slack and we finally come out for air.
My phone is ringing in my back pocket, I can feel the vibration against my ass. I grab it to turn it off when I spot Gale's name flashing across the screen. Reality comes thundering down on me like an icy rain. Gale.
This is bad. This is horrible. I can already feel the guilt and anguish resurface full force. What am I doing? Oh god. We had a bad fight, but I'm still in a relationship. What am I doing here? What am I hoping to achieve?
It's like Peeta can read my thoughts. "You're ashamed," he realizes, his voice so hurt I feel like ice shards are piercing through my heart.
His body freezes against mine, and he curses out loud before putting a good two feet between us.
"I'm sorry," I tear up. "I shouldn't have…"
Peeta passes a hand on his face, clearly trying to regain his composure. "You regret this," he says, his sentence sounding more like a statement than a question.
"You must hate me," I squeak.
"Katniss, if there is one thing I'm sure of, it's that I don't hate you," he starts, agitated. He's pacing the kitchen now, clearly upset. He grabs a fist of his hair in frustration before turning back to me.
"I could never hate you," he states forcefully, coming back towards me and grabbing my hand, placing his fingers between mine. His blue eyes find mine and his demeanor softens considerably when he finally adds: "I love you, Katniss."
"You don't love me," I deny, turning away from his gaze. He can't. He's confused by all the emotions.
"I do," he insists, lifting my chin up to him, forcing me to meet his stare, making clear he means it.
He loves me.
"Katniss?" Gale's loud voice calls suddenly from the door.
I gasp. My phone rings loudly again.
"Come on, Katniss, I can hear you in there. Open the door," Gale pleads with me from the hallway.
I do the only thing left to do in this situation: I start laughing. Laughing and crying at the same time. This all feels so ridiculous, so unreal. I've finally gone mad. I choke into a fit of sobs, hiding my face in my hands. Not the best reaction to a proclamation of love.
I try to catch my breath, to regain control over this overpowering flow of contradicting feelings. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.
This is all a big mistake. I don't deserve to be chased after, by two different men at that. I'm not what they want me to be. I can't be. I'm not functioning properly and now I've made a mess of things. I'm afraid I'll never make this right.
Finally, numbness creeping over my heart, I get my shit together and go open the door. Whatever I'm feeling or thinking, I can't abandon Gale like that. He's drunk in a strange town.
He hugs me hard. I don't stop him. I should, really. He's been an ass tonight and it's a little hypocritical of me to hug him right now. We need to talk. When he's sober.
When I look back to Peeta over Gale's shoulders, his expression is so desperately sad, so dejected, my hearts breaks a little. When Gale starts babbling an apology into my ear, and I still don't let go of him, Peeta's expression hardens. I know I've done irreparable damage here.
Please review. Elmo13