I was nervous as hell about this chapter, that's probably why I never posted it until now. I hope you like it, and I'm sorry if this story is dragging on, it's almost over!
I spend the entire day at work looking at the clock. I'm painfully aware of every minute going slowly by. By some cruel twist of fate, it's also the most gruelingly dull work day in ages. We're all gathered in a small, stuffy room listening to some guy from HR reminding us of all the tips to a healthy work environment.
It gives me time to think about last night. Too much time. I'm afraid I'm rushing into something I can't control. Something I could quickly lose myself to. Something that could hurt me. The euphoria from last night is slowly being smothered by fear. What if this is all a big mistake?
I almost chicken out on the way home and go to the bar instead. I can't, I need to be a grown up about this.
My heart does a 360 in my chest when I open the door of the apartment. Peeta is at the kitchen counter, cooking. He glances my way at once and smiles, his eyes even bluer than usual. Seeing him calms the turmoil inside my head a little.
He points meaningfully to the couch. Finn is sprawled on it, watching TV. I'm sort of disappointed we're not alone. I go and sit at the island, greeting them both.
Peeta looks good tonight. He's freshly shaven and his hair is still damp. He offers me a beer and his fingers linger on mine as he passes me the bottle, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm.
I take a big gulp of my beer, trying to make small talk, but my palms are sweaty and I feel like a shaky mess. I decide to go into my room to change.
Breathe, I repeat inwardly like a mantra, trying to remember how to act normally. I browse my clothes to find something nice to wear. Not too nice, though, I think. This isn't a date, this is just dinner. When Finn leaves, Peeta and I can talk. That's what he offered yesterday. To talk. But talk about what? I've never been good at talking.
I glance at my bag again. I haven't unpacked it, I feel like I can't. This thing between us is absolutely insane. I just broke up with Gale. He just broke up with Delly. We live together. Isn't this the definition of too fast? I should really allow myself some distance, some kind of perspective on this before I go too far. But how can I bring it up? Hey Peeta, I like you a lot more than I thought so I'm moving out? Ridiculous.
I finally come out of my room. Annie's sitting at the island where Peeta is setting plates down for supper. Finn quickly joins her. I sit with them and we start to eat.
The food is delicious as usual and I compliment Peeta on it, hoping I'm not acting weird. I can feel his intent gaze burning me all through the meal. I know he's dying for them to leave.
After dessert, I start washing dishes. Peeta comes to help me, grabbing a towel to dry them. I get to the last pan, and it's really greasy, I basically have to put all my weight into my strokes.
"Here let me do that for you," Peeta offers, coming behind me to take my place.
His body his practically flush against mine. I'm so surprised by his sudden closeness, I jump up, pulling away from him, splashing some water and soap around. I glance to Finn and Annie to see if they saw before meeting Peeta's eyes again.
"I'm sorry," I mouth silently.
He just shakes his head dismissively as if to say 'don't worry about it'. I don't want to be so jumpy around him. He takes my place and scrubs the pan forcefully, and I hope I didn't make things weird. Well, weirder.
Annie and Finn talk about going to the bar. I yawn profusely and say I'm too tired to go anywhere tonight.
I walk to my room, thinking I need to come up with a reasonable plan. I leave the door open though, I don't want Peeta to think I don't want to talk.
About ten minutes later, I hear them leave. Peeta appears at my door. He's scratching his neck like he does when he's unsure about something.
"Hey," he says.
"Hi," I sigh, thinking how awkward this is. I get up and stand beside my bed, not knowing where to start.
"How was your day?" He asks.
"Good, you?"
"Good." He lets his sight wander for a second and it settles almost instinctively on my getaway bag. Oh no. "What is this?" He points to the bag, but the way his voice changes at the end, I can tell he figured it out. Well, I was looking for a way to bring this up. Mission accomplished. I think sarcastically. I know this is not good, it's not the same thing as talking about wanting to move out. It's a fait accompli.
"This is my bag." Genius answer Katniss.
I almost expect him to get angry at my stupid answer but he doesn't. "Oh," he sighs. He sounds resigned, like he's bracing himself for impact. I wince, I hope I can make him understand I'm not rejecting him again. Am I?
"We need to take this slow," I say, motioning between us.
"Absolutely," he agrees, his voice hollow.
"I can't be your girlfriend, I'm not ready," I explain, afraid I'm starting to babble again.
"I understand."
"I'll spend the week at my friend Rue's, and after that, I should… I should probably move out."
"Probably," his tone is detached now, like he's very far away.
He's so calm and collected, it's making me feel sick. I don't know what I expected would happen, but I didn't expect him to be so uninvolved. If I'm being perfectly honest with myself, I expected him to talk me out of it. I expected— no wanted— him to say it would be alright, that we could do this. My heart is tight in my chest. I repeat to myself that this is the sensible thing to do. I should take the time to heal and figure things out, move out to give him some space and build a life for myself outside of his circle, outside of his world. He said he loves me and I'm not there yet. We both just ended pretty serious relationships. We shouldn't rush into this. But how come it feels so wrong to say those things out loud? Why does it hurt so much?
"Peeta?" I call out as I close the distance between us, he looks absent, deep in thought. I hate it when I can't tell where is mind is at.
"Mmmm?" He whispers as he grabs my braid gently, stroking it with his thumb, staring at it intently.
His gentle touch gives me some courage. I bite my bottom lip. "Do you want me to move?"
His eyes finally meet mine head on. I can see the hurt in them now, his true feelings unmasked. "Absolutely not."
His tone is definite, undoubting and echoes deep within me, making my heart ache. I'm not an all-in kind of person, always has been the one to go with the flow, to follow the current. But tonight, there is no grey, no halfway.
I decide to be honest with him‒ with myself, no matter how unreasonable it all seems. "I‒ I kind of don't want to either, is that crazy?"
"Probably," he grins.
He pulls me into a passionate kiss.
His tongue commands entry into my mouth and moves against mine languidly, each slow and deliberate stroke causing the fire in my stomach to creep lower. I lose myself into the kiss, ours lips, ours tongue pulling and pushing. Teeth biting. My hand snakes under his shirt, stroking delicately the sensitive skin of his stomach. I shiver at the feeling of his skin against mine. There's an undeniable need erupting within me, making me heady.
Our chest are heaving as he starts kissing my neck and we rearrange ourselves, his hips now pinning me against the wall. I can feel his hardness against my thigh and press into it eagerly. The friction against my center steals a husky whimper from us both. Our eyes meet, his blue eyes are hooded with lust, dark and unapologetic. He looks hungry. Heat pools between my thighs at the thought. We are still staring deep in each other's eyes when his hand snakes its way up my shirt to my breast.
"Fuck," he swears as his palm cups my breast, massaging it slowly.
He presses harder into me, and the intensity of his gaze sends jolts of electricity down my body. I arch into him, my whole body pulsating with need.
He brings my shirt over my head feverishly, his tongue darting out at the sight of my exposed breast. He leans into me and takes a nipple in his mouth and I hiss at the contact. I let my head fall back, closing my eyes at the sensation.
I've never felt so raw before, it's like every single one of my nerve ending is exposed. I writhe against his solid frame as he slowly teases me, alternating between gentle licks and harder nibbles. I can feel the wetness seeping through my underwear, my center now throbbing, begging for attention.
Like he can read my mind, his hand grazes up my thigh, agonizingly slowly. His attention on my breast stop when he feels my drenched folds, and I open my eyes.
"You're so fucking wet," he exhales hoarsely.
His swearing turns me on, he's usually so polite, so guarded, and seeing him so wild is sinful.
His hand go under the fabric and start exploring me. I fucking mewl when his finger trace my clit, my hips jerking into his hand shamelessly. Yes! That's what I need.
His gaze is basically licking me all over as his strokes find a rhythm that brings out a slur of unintelligent curses from my mouth. My insides are coiling around his fingers. I feel myself getting higher and higher, trembling in want. I glance up at him. The wolfish grin on his face almost has me undone and he kisses me hard before he resumes his circles around my clit, slower than before, trying to keep me on the edge for as long as possible. I groan in protest but he just steadies me against the door. The pressure deliciously builds and builds until I come apart on his hand, whimpering in delirious relief.
He kisses me again. I feel lost in the blissful haze of my orgasm. I kiss him back sloppily, drinking him in, taking a moment to gather myself again.
Our lips are red and swollen. When I can finally feel my legs again I start tracing circles on his stomach. He practically jumps backwards when my hand sneaks into his boxer to encircle his shaft.
"Wait, Katniss, we should stop."
"Do you want to stop?"
"No!" His response his loud and totally unfiltered. No, he doesn't want to stop, but he feels we should. He's probably right, but I've never felt so desperately unsatisfied. I think I could shatter if we stopped right now. My heart is in my throat and I'm basically shaking, but I know I want this.
"Me neither."
Please review, I'm so nervous about this if you want me to continue, please say so. It makes a world of difference. Elmo13