Chapter 5: Kissed Senseless

The night before the Reaping is always deathly quiet. Families awaiting whether one of their own children will be sent to certain death in the wilderness come morning. So, it seems cruel to be thinking about anything else, or even to be out at this time of night.

But I have to get this medicine off to Peeta. An errand for my mother. The Baker has reportedly taken ill, and Mother fretted that if not made better, the Peacekeepers might come forcing him out of his sickbed and to the Reaping - a strain that the middle-aged man can ill afford.

My name will be in the bowl scores of times. I have already taken out tesserae in the hopes that it will dissuade Prim from doing so, especially now that she is of age for the Reaping - her very first. I would rather that the odds were not in my favor. Thinking of the amounts of grain I have already taken out makes me back to that extended hand that could change my future.

In the ensuing six months or so, Darius and I have continued to hunt together during the week, which actually gives me cover from Thread's wrath. That reason alone places me in the young and handsome Peacekeeper's debt - enough of a reason that to kiss him senseless would seem like more than fair repayment. And yet, in these six months, I have given only passing thought here and there, and have yet to give an answer, to Darius's offer. No, "proposal." I consider it a proposal for my hand in marriage, even if he just says he wants me to live with him. If I were to accept, say Yes, he might not expect anything now... but eventually, I would be behooved to Toast the bread with him. Become a wife and care for him. Perhaps even become a mother... The latter thought makes my gut roil as I am reminded anew of why I have never wanted children in the first place. The Games. I have no way of knowing whether any product of a Seam and Peacekeeper union would stand any greater or lesser chance of being Reaped for the Games. Perhaps being fathered by a Capitol official would offer some protection. Then again, if Darius insisted we marry before he was promoted to higher office... if we wed before he was legally allowed to take a bride... Scandal could result and any children of ours might be a guarantee for the Reaping Bowl as punishment.

My thoughts are muddled as I at last approach the cozy lights and aromas of the bakery. The place is all but closed up; through the panes, I can see Peeta sweeping behind the counter. I quietly sneak around to the back loading dock, where Gale and I have always done our trades. Even if it's night and the Witch is likely asleep, rousing her by coming through the front is not a risk I am willing to take. I knock cautiously.

Peeta answers with a furrowed brow that quickly melts away into happy relief. "Oh, Katniss, good! I wasn't expecting you until morning."

"That's exactly what Mother didn't want," I explain. "If your father can't get out of bed in the morning, the Peacekeepers will force him to attend the Reaping."

Peeta nods grimly, the muscles in his face drawn. "I know. I went to the Justice Building today and tried to appeal for an Excusion, but Thread wouldn't have it."

I huff. "Figures." The last time someone got an Excusion for Mandatory Attendance was when Peeta and I were small children, only just school age. The tailor's wife was literally on her deathbed, and Mother was working overtime to try and save her. Naturally, the Excusion was extended to her, as well, being the only Healer in the district.

Peeta leads me through the back passageway and up to behind the counter. "You can leave the medicine right there, and I'll give it to Dad in the morning with his breakfast." I deposit the package as Peeta wipes down the display cases, devoid of their cupcakes and pastries and other delights that Prim and I have sometimes marveled at. "Nervous for tomorrow?"

I shrug. "More for Prim than me. It's her first year."

"She won't be picked," Peeta assures me. "It's been years since a 12-year-old was thrown in."

I fiddle with the elastic of my pants. "What about you? It's your brother's last year, right?"

"Yeah." Rye Mellark, the middle son, is known to be quite the jokester. He's always come off as unfiltered and brash to me; he could do with taking a leaf out of Peeta's mild-mannered book. He chuckles. "Strange. We're more worried about our family's chances than our own."

"Isn't that natural?" I frown. "I've been worrying about my family since I was 11, and for more reasons than the Reaping."

"True, but as far as the Reaping is concerned, you shouldn't worry." He suddenly takes my hand. "If you're picked, Prim won't starve. Neither will your mother. I'd trade plenty with them and hope that Prim at least marries someone worthy of her."

I smile at his last promise, for it seems so big-brotherly of him. "Thank you," I murmur, still deeply moved by his caring. "I should not have expected anything less."

"Katniss..." Peeta ventures. "Do you remember the day we first met?"

"Of course," I laugh, recalling the first day of school in my little red dress, when I sang in music assembly. Peeta had come right up to me and told me that I had the prettiest voice he had ever heard, and that the birds outside the window stopped their chattering to listen to me.

Peeta is also grinning at the memory. "And how you made the birds go quiet. It was like art. Like the paintings I draw, only painted with sound. I knew then... that we'd be magnificent together."

I giggle at my dear friend. "We are magnificent together."

Peeta's face could light up the sun. "My sweet Katniss... ever since that day... hell, for years, actually... I've wanted... to..."

His face has grown deeply intense as he gazes at me. But even then, I am not prepared for it. Peeta suddenly takes me by my waist, pulls me close and fuses his lips to mine.

My eyes pop open, bulge, and I let out a muffled squeak of confusion.

I had always expected, especially these last several months, for my first kiss (if it ever happened) to come from Darius. Not from this blonde boy whose lips now dance across my own for a moment before drawing away.

I blink once, then again, staring at him in a daze. "What was that?" I splutter stupidly.

Peeta shrugs. "A kiss."

I eye him warily. "I know it was a kiss..."

"My first! I've wanted to do that for a long time..."

I am suddenly in Peeta's arms again. He kisses me once more, his lips more insistent. I try to cry out, but my mouth opening to his, twitching against his allows him to slip his tongue oh so gently into my throat. Peeta's not a bad kisser - he's quite good, actually. At least as good as can be expected from someone who has no other lips, no other kiss, to compare his to. Even so, my hands now fist into his apron, as I try desperately to push him away...

The bell jingling at the front door alerts us to the fact that we are no longer alone. "Mmmmm!" I squeal into Peeta's mouth, but when my panic does not sway him, I finally shove him away, prying our lips apart.

But it is too late. Delly Cartwright is standing in the bakery doorway, with her mouth likely as open as mine is. I can see why she would feel she was interrupting something consensual between two people, how she could misconstrue Peeta's kiss as one I would return. Even in the way my fingers clutched at Peeta's apron, to the untrained eye, it would have looked like I was pulling him closer, kissing him back...

Peeta looks positively flustered, all the more so at realizing that I have resisted both of his efforts at kissing me senseless. Add Delly's witnessing the spectacle, and he is mortified. "Delly..."

I am now horrified to see that Delly is close to tears. "I'm sorry, Peeta! Katniss!" she squeaks. "I didn't mean to... if you're busy..." And she flees from the bakery, crying, before I have a chance to explain.

I round on Peeta to tell him off, to display my deep anger and displeasure at being kissed without my consent. But I cannot find the words. A breach of trust in our friendship has been broken, but that does not mean I want the friendship to end over words that either of us would regret. "I'll see you tomorrow at the Reaping," I say coldly, and turn tail and run out the back door of the loading dock. All the better so as not to encounter Delly.

Two men vying for my affections. Two men whom I know want to kiss my lips with their own. What did I do to deserve such attentions?

I rise early and change into my blue Reaping dress. Then I rouse Prim. Mother does up my hair in our cracked mirror. It is one of the few things I allow from her in our strained relationship, one of the few moments of beautification that I do not mind. Besides, my blue dress is the only nice piece of clothing I own; I might as well complete the look in some way. Cosmetics are a luxury our family cannot afford.

By the time we reach the square in front of the Justice Building, the sun is already high in the sky. Prim and I check in with the authorities. I find myself keeping an eye out for Darius, but I do not see him. Perhaps he is not on duty, or stationed indoors.

I do, however, spy Peeta amongst the 16-year-old boys. I turn sadly away, not wanting to dwell in any way on the boy who stole my first kiss from me. My gaze then falls on Gale, with the 18-year-old boys as part of his last Reaping. He must see the sadness in my eyes, for he stares at me quizzically. I force a smile onto my face that seems to convince him I am all right.

Mayor Undersee begins the speech about the Dark Days. It is the same, year after year, so I tune it out. What is more prevalent, and interesting (in an embarrassing way) is the reading of District 12's Past Hunger Games Victors. In 73 years, we have had exactly two. Two. The first I have only seen in schoolbooks or through the statue that stands in the schoolyard. The Victor of the 2nd Hunger Games, Emmanuelle Southard. She was a girl from the Seam who won by rigging homemade bombs and land mines. For hours on end she did this while hiding in small rocky crevices of the arena, blowing up any tributes who came along. When there were only four tributes left, she made her move. At a Feast, two of her competitors were killed and then Emmanuelle knifed the boy from 4 and finished him off by blowing him up. The Capitol did not approve of such a gruesome death; it was a bit much, even for them. Since then, the minimum age for working in the mines in District 12 has been 18, leaving our tributes at a distinct disadvantage.

The Victor of the 50th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy, is our most recent. He conquered in an arena with twice the number of tributes. Aside from that, he is useless. He is drunk more often than he helps our tributes. He is even drunk now, passed out in his chair.

Mayor Undersee now cedes the floor to Effie Trinket, our District escort. "Ladies first!" She chirps with her accent. She reaches into the Girls' Reaping Bowl. "Katniss Everdeen!"

I should have better prepared myself. With so much tesserae, my chances of being picked were really good. At least they were better than Prim's, who I now motion to keep quiet with a shake of my head, forbidding her to volunteer for me. I bravely take the stage.

"Wonderful! And now for the Boys!" I fear it will be Gale, and actually fear it will be Peeta.

But it is neither. "Zachary Tyler!" A Merchant boy I do not know. Zachary and I shake hands and are escorted into the Justice Building.

The first people to visit me are my mother and Prim. Prim is inconsolable, weeping and upset that she was not allowed to volunteer for me. I order Mother to take care of Prim after I am gone.

Gale is next. "Get to a bow. And if they don't have one for you then you make one."

"Don't let my family starve, Gale!" I remind him as he is led away.

I should not be so surprised that Peeta comes to see me, after what happened last night. But he does. I stiffen when he comes in, but he holds his hands up in surrender.

"I come in peace. I only want to apologize. I never should have kissed you without your permission. I still love you, though, and I always will."

Peeta has always been sincere; it is one of the things I admire about him. I nod. "I forgive you." The air has to be cleared now, since I will probably come back dead.

Peeta eyes me warily. "We're still friends, then?"

I give something between an exasperated sigh and a laugh as I place a hand on his shoulder. Feeling generous and merciful, I reach up and press my lips to his in a chaste kiss. It is something he can hold onto.

When I draw away, Peeta looks stunned. "If I kiss you now, would you allow it?"

I smile softly. "I'll allow it."

Peeta pulls me back to him and kisses me soundly in return. I close my eyes and savor it for what it is. After a few moments, I press my hand into his chest and pull out of the kiss. "Goodbye," I whisper.

Peeta has been gone only a few minutes when a red haired man whom I have been anxiously hoping would come now enters my cell.

"I thought you would be on duty," I tell him.

"I was. Stationed in the Justice Building." He takes my hand. "Please win, Katniss."

I nod. "I'll try." I ponder back over all the time we have spent together, as I gaze at this man that I have literally come to love.

Wait... love? I have fallen in love with a Peacekeeper, and I didn't even notice that such a transformation was happening within me! The epiphany makes me bold.

"Darius, if by some miracle I do win... would you still be open to marrying me?"

Darius stares at me in amazement. "Then you are saying Yes? You'll allow it?"

I nod quietly. I accept his proposal. If I become a Victor, I will also become a Peacekeeper's bride. "Yes. I'll allow it. You have my word."

Darius looks elated. He seems poised to grab me and kiss me, good and proper, and I find myself begging him to do so. It is already too late for us, practically.

Or so I think. I believe I hear footsteps approaching. I stare at Darius seriously, with no nonsense. "This is your last chance. Kiss me."

Darius tentatively steps forward, shocked I am the one to ask for a kiss, and unsure whether he should kiss me senseless. I lose patience.

"Kiss me, damnit!" And seizing his lapel, I close the gap between us and slam my lips against his.

As Darius wraps his arms about me and depeens the kiss, the locking of our lips becomes steamy. Our mouths open to each other as one, and I slip my tongue in between the split until it bumps into Darius's tongue and winds about it. My eyes droop shut, and my vocal cords hum as I moan. "Hmmm..."

Darius gropes my ass heavily. When he hikes my leg to his waist, so that my dress rides high up my thigh, I leap into his arms, folding my legs around his torso. Our bodies undulate as they grind into each other.

And as I kiss this man, and as he kisses me back at last, I think dreamily, 'This is what my first kiss should have been like. I never want to kiss anyone else ever again...'

And I likely never will, as before we can have sex, footsteps come closer. I break the kiss violently and fling myself away from Darius. Seconds later, the door opens. If Darius, a Peacekeeper Private, was caught kissing a poor Seam woman Tribute like me, he could be punished.

Darius's colleagues march him away. I touch my kissed lips in wonder.

I am still in a daze when Haymitch guides me onto the train. I only hope I can return so I can kiss Darius again. So I can marry Darius.