A month passes by, and election work only gets more intense as we hit the end of March. Tasked with planning a last minute dinner for Peeta and campaign donors, I told Peeta I couldn't come over every night for the past week because I either needed to work or was exhausted. That's why when I finally find myself in his shower with him, we're both reluctant to answer the persistent knock at the door.
"Forget about it babe," Peeta whispers huskily, his hands all over my body. "If it's room service they'll leave it outside." I try to listen to his words as his lips kiss up and down my neck, but the knocking persists. "I swear to god I'm going to kill whoever's behind that door," he groans, clearly as annoyed as me.
I sigh, wiggling out of Peeta's grasp. "I'll just answer it real quick, I don't want you to scar whoever's there," I say, gesturing to his very erect penis. He chuckles before kissing me on the cheek before I step out, dripping wet. I wrap myself in a towel before venturing out of the hot bathroom, quickly grabbing a few bills from my wallet before answering the door.
When I open it and realize I'm standing near naked, in Peeta's hotel room, in front of Finnick Odair, I feel every ounce of blood rush out of my body. He seems just as surprised as I do, his jaw dropping before turning into a smug smile. "Holy fucking shit, I knew you guys were fucking!" I'm still speechless as he pushes his way in the room, now trying to suppress a hysterical laugh. "Peeta! Peeta! You have some explaining to do!"
I hear the sound of the shower shutting off, and Peeta's confused voice. "Babe, who is it?" He calls before walking into the room, equally surprised as me to be face to face with Finnick wearing only a towel hanging low on his hips. "What the fuck?" He asks, looking from me to his best friend.
"I thought it was room service, I'm sorry I'm dumb," I panic, my heart thumping in my chest. Peeta sighs, and when he moves towards me I flinch like he's going to hit me.
Instead he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close before whispering, "It's ok," in my ear.
"So when were you going to tell me?" Finnick asks, amused by Peeta's display of affection. "Actually, I think the better question is how long has this been going on?"
Peeta and I look at eachother, both unsure of the answer. "Like a month, maybe a little more?" He offers with a shrug. I'm in awe about how casually he's handling the reveal of what was supposed to be our big secret, and something about Finnick's smile makes me uncomfortable.
Finnick scoffs, clearly more annoyed about the secret keeping than the secret itself. "Is that a joke?" He tries to use the same playful tone he always uses, but it's not hard to tell that he's slightly hurt.
"Finnick, I'm sorry. I'm sure you know how bad it would look if everyone on the campaign knew we were together, we had to keep it a secret. It's not that I didn't trust you, I do. And I'm trusting you right now not to tell anyone."
We can both tell that Peeta's using political level sweet talk on Finnick, but for the sake of their 10-year friendship, he buys into it. "Alright," he says, putting his hands up. "Well, this is really weird, so I'm going to head out. I'll catch you guys tomorrow." Finnick's exit leaves us in silence, and I look at Peeta, unsure of what to do or say.
"Do you wanna get back in the shower?" Peeta suggests after blowing out a large breath.
I look at him like he's crazy, unsure how he stays so calm. "Are you not freaking out? Finnick just caught us literally almost naked." He shrugs, taking my lack of response as a no and starts walking towards the dresser.
"I mean it's Finnick, I've seen him in less. Guy practically gets naked whenever he has the chance. But he's my best friend, he won't tell anybody." And just like that, Peeta's already over it.
I know I should have the same relaxed attitude, but I can't help but being annoyed at his nonchalant behavior. "It's easy to not care when it's not your career," I mutter under my breath, searching the room for the clothes I wore over. He sends a questioning glance in my direction, clearly hearing my words. I dress instead of responding, not bothering to ask for a shirt like I always so whenever I sleep over. "You know what, I'm really tired. I think I'm going to go back to my room," I say, already making a beeline for the door.
I'm leaving to try and avoid starting a fight, but as usual, one starts to emerge anyway. "Katniss if you're mad just say so, don't just storm out and pretend like you're not." I can tell from his tone of voice that he's not mad either, just irritated and tired.
"I'm not mad, I just don't think you understand how this could affect the both of us and your campaign." I know I'm coming off as whiny but I can't help it, and I stand with my point.
Peeta subtly rolls his eyes and uncrosses his arms before pulling down the covers to get into bed. "Look, Katniss. We've talked about this so many times. I'm not in the mood to fight with you because we both know that I care so theres no point in arguing. I'm gonna go to sleep and you are free to join me and if you don't, have a good night and I'll see you tomorrow." He pulls down the sheets on the side closer to me before climbing in himself.
I cave pretty quickly, a good nights sleep with Peeta outweighing sleeping in my own bed. His eyes are shut by the time I climb in with him in only my underwear, but I can tell he's still awake by his uneven breaths. Peeta adjusts his arm to hold me close to him, and I press an apologetic kiss to his neck.
"I know you care, sorry for trying to pick a fight." If theres anything I hate doing it's apologizing, but with Peeta it feels different.
He doesn't respond immediately and I think he might be asleep, but he eventually kisses me on my nose in return. "It's ok. I'm sorry I wasn't empathetic enough." I hear the words come out of his mouth and my heart swells, and I can't help but ask myself what I did to find someone like Peeta.
Another week passes before we both have a free morning, my first meeting not until 1PM and his at 12. We're sitting in my bed, he's reading the Philly Inquirer and I'm reading the Economist on my iPad. I'm humming the Good Day Philly theme song when I catch Peeta staring at me. "Would it be so bad?" He asks, looking up at me.
"Would what be so bad?" I ask, my eyes still scanning the screen.
I can hear him suck in his breath, and I realize that I already know what he's going to say. "If we, you know, dated. For real. I'm not providing you any benefits to you job, you're smart, qualified, attractive," he goes off, trying to sugar coat it. His voice lacks the confidence it usually has, and I can tell he's afraid of my answer.
"And Effie would have a heart attack." My tone signifies finality, but I feel bad when I see the small smile drop from his face. I sigh, putting the iPad down and facing him. "Peeta, I'm sorry. You know I… you know how I feel about you, but we talked about this." I hope he drops it because I'm not in the mood to get into another fight, but his expression tells me that he won't.
Peeta tries again, attempting to wear me down by a new argument. "But what's really the problem? I'm not married, I'm not in a relationship."
"What if I don't test well?" I snap, tired of giving explanations. "What if the public doesn't like me? I couldn't live with myself if I was the person to blame for you not winning this race."
"Fuck the race," he exclaims, grabbing my hand. "Fuck everything, I don't care. I want to be with you, don't you want to be with me too?" I nod, but he continues before I have a chance to respond. "I want to go on a date that doesn't involve room service. I want to be seen with you outside and hold your hand so everyone knows you're mine. I know you feel the same way," he pleads, trying to play off of my emotions.
I know it's the adrenaline rush he always gets when he talks about the future, but I can't help but look into his blue eyes and understand everything he's trying to day. I don't even mull it over, and throw all caution to the wind. "Fine," I say with a sigh. "I'll allow it." The way he looks at me like it's Christmas Day makes me feel like any potential issues are worth it, and the way he kisses me makes me feel like I never want him to let go.
The meeting we know we have to schedule with Haymitch and Effie is significantly less pleasant, with Peeta having to bribe me with the promise of baked goods to get me out of bed and in the office. "You ok?" He asks when he sees me shaking outside of Haymitch's office.
"Let's just get this over with," I say with a sigh, pushing the door open. Haymitch and Effie sit behind the big mahogany desk, as intimidating as ever. Haymitch looks like Effie just said something to piss him off, while Effie looks like she would much rather be somewhere else. I catch Peeta's nervous look before we both sit down.
"I hope you're not here to waste my time," Haymitch grumbles, glaring in my direction. "Hurry up, I've got a meeting downtown in 20 minutes."
I stutter but Peeta swoops in smoothly, coming in with the speech I know he prepared. "Well Haymitch, Effie the reason I requested this meeting today was to formally let you know that Katniss and I have begun to engage in a personal relationship. In no way has this affected anything about my work or hers, and we fully intend to remain strictly professional regarding any campaign matters."
I try to read their reactions - Effie is clearly shocked, but I'm both confused and relieved when Haymitch starts laughing. He doesn't stop until Peeta clears his throat. "Oh I'm sorry," Haymitch says, his chuckles dying down. "We've had a plan for this ever since Delly came in here with her nonsense weeks ago. While I do appreciate the honesty, it's not as bad as you think."
"Delly came to you?" I say in disbelief. "And you didn't fire me?"
Haymitch gives me a confused glance, like I'm the one not making any sense. "And lose one of the best fundraising chairs I've seen in a long time? I know you're dedicated to this job, thats why I didn't mention it. I told her to mind her own damn business and get out of my office." He laughs again at the memory, shaking his head with a smile.
Effie regains her composure and starts shuffling through papers. "While we are not going to fire you, we do have a request. You must tell the public before they find out. I suggest a series of high profile dates, but the choice is yours. We don't want Enobaria turning this into a scandal."
"Now you kids get out of here," Haymitch says, apparently done with this conversation. "Peeta, you have debate prep at 3. We have less than a week before you go face to face with Enobaria."
News of our relationship spreads quickly through the office, and I'm the subject of stares, whispers from people who had all but ignored me the last two months. Unsurprisingly, Peeta handles it much better than I do, playing it off and changing the topic whenever asked about it.
"So Councilman Mellark, how do you plan to support the growth of small businesses in the area while also supporting large economic growth?" I ask as we sit in his bed the night before the debate.
He thinks for a second, and I have to keep from smiling at the cute face he makes. "I believe that small businesses are the backbone of our economy. It is the everyday people who make huge differences in our lives. As your congressman I want to inact bills cutting taxes for these businesses so they can invest more in their products and advertising and bring in more consumers. We can cut those taxes by making sure money is being spent on the right things - and with my close ties to City Hall, I am able to help make these decisions." I nod in approval at his response.
"A+. You mentioned small businesses, tax cuts and the fact that you are city councilman. You're making the crowd familiar with yourself while also giving details about your future plans."
"Have I ever told you how much I love it when you keep your hair down?" He asks, hanging his arm over my shoulder and twirling it in his finger.
I roll my eyes, but accept the kiss he gives as he leans down. "I think I'm the one asking the questions here," I reply, brushing his comment off. "Ok, next. Councilman Mellark, you are remarkably young at only 29 years old. How are you qualified to represent this district?"
"Well I'm sure you're not looking for a resume," he starts, but I cut him off.
"Never correct the voter, or make any assumptions. You also risk coming off as cocky by listing all of your accomplishments, so I suggest you change the topic to something about how you are open to ideas and more in touch with the youth, who are the future," I say, trying to recall my endless political science classes.
Peeta groans, already agitated. "Look, I've been trained by some of the best debaters. I don't need you to tell me what's right and what's wrong, I think I'm prepared to handle anything she throws at me." His tone comes off as unnecessarily sharp, and I scowl, not in the mood to be invalidated.
"Fine," I snap back, annoyed. "We'll see how well you do tomorrow." I hear him sigh when I turn around and settle into bed, facing away from him.
"Katniss," he breaths, exasperated. "You know I wasn't trying to-you know that's not what I meant," he stutters, struggling to find the right words. When I still don't respond he gives up, rolling over and turning off the lights.
As I stand behind stage with Haymitch and Effie the next day, I'm not surprised that Enobaria came with her teeth sharpened. They go hard on topics like health, public works, funding , and I have to admit Peeta holds his ground well. It's impossible to gage the crowd's reaction, but when I hear my name come out of Enobaria's mouth, I can tell things are taking a turn for the worst.
"I for one like to keep my personal life and my professional life separate, unlike Councilman Mellark. Instead of focusing on the issues that matter, like the state of our parks department or our public schools, he has strayed from his duties and begun a relationship with his campaign's fundraising chair, Katniss Everdeen. As your representative I promise to stay focused and be in touch with my constituents as much as possible."
I look to Effie who looks to Haymitch, who seems not at all surprised at Enobaria's name drop. "It's a low blow, but it doesn't surprise me. She was the CFO of Philly's biggest real estate company before serving as head of the school board, and she didn't get there without ripping out a few throats. I just hope Peeta can get his head out of his ass and form a real response."
The crowd becomes restless at the attack and the moderator asks for quiet. "Councilman Mellark, do you have a response?"
"Well Boardwoman Meyers," he stutters, facing towards Enobaria. "I think that my personal life is not something that should be discussed with the people, we should be focusing on-" he starts, but she cuts him off.
"How can the people vote for you if they don't know anything about you? How can you be trusted to be a crusader for this district's issues when you are young and reckless? This district needs someone with experience, someone who knows how to fight for what she wants. And that candidate, is me."
Enboaria's words - while blatantly overconfident - causes a stir in the crowd. I see nodding heads in agreement, and I can tell this debate is heading south. And from the way he keeps rubbing the back of his neck, Peeta knows it too. I turn to look at Haymitch but he's already gone, yelling at his assistants for his notes to see if he can find something against Enobaria.
Peeta opens his mouth to respond, but the moderator cuts him off. "I'm sorry Councilman Mellark, but we must take a short break. We will resume in five minutes," he speaks to the camera, which is streaming the debate live on local television.
Enobaria smirks at Peeta as she steps off the podium, and I feel all the anger I had at Peeta from last night disappear and reappear towards her. Before he even is fully backstage I can tell his confidence is already shot. He gives me a look and I start to walk towards him, but Haymitch descends upon him before I get a chance.
"What the hell do you think this is kid?" His tone is angry, but I can tell it comes from a place of concern. "I don't know if you realized it, but she is wiping the floor with you. Yes, we know that she hits hard but that is no excuse for whatever you think you're doing up there. This debate isn't for fun, it is for the democratic nomination. This debate is for that congress seat- your future. If you don't want it anymore, fine, we can walk out of here right now and forget the last five months happened." His tone drops, and I have to strain my ears to hear his words from my position a few feet away. "But I know you, and I know you want this. So don't throw it away because she made a jab at sweetheart. Hit her right back."
Peeta instantly hardens like he's being scolded by his father - he stands up taller, his face is stern, and he does not dare talk back. "Yes Haymitch," he responds, slowly nodding his head as he is processing his words. "Thank you."
Haymitch glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and lets out a sigh. "You've got two minutes to talk to her, just don't forget to get your head out of your ass." I roll my eyes, but I forget about him as soon as I look Peeta in the eyes.
"I'm sorry I was a dick to you last night, I promise-" he starts, but I wave him off.
"You're getting your ass kicked in a debate and you're worried about if you hurt my feelings?" My remark brings a smile to his face, and I see him slightly relax. "Listen," I command, grabbing a hold of his hands. "I'm ok. We are ok. But right now, you need to focus on this debate. Enobaria will continue to bring up your age, and you have to keep reminding the crowd that your young age is a benefit. You are more in touch with society, growing up in the early 90's recession has taught you fiscal responsibility, you are more open to new ideas." I rattle the list off the top of my head, hoping he's understanding what I'm saying. "All you have to show them is what you've shown me and this entire campaign- that you're smart, hardworking, and willing to do anything for this district."
And I don't have anything more to say, so I steady my hands on his shoulder and press my lips softly to his. "You can do this," I reaffirm, brushing off his suit. "Just remember what I said."
"That's everything I needed to hear, thank you." Before his sentence finishes coming out of his mouth someone is already pulling him away from me, and pushing him towards the stage. I can tell he's ready by the way he doesn't look back, marching headfirst back into the debate.
Sorry this update took me so long! I've been busy, and haven't had time to post. Please review to let me know how you feel about this story!