Author's Note: Hi! Thank you so much for your support and reviews, I am continuing with the story as you can see. I hope you all continue to enjoy it. Please review and let me know how it's going. Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see and what you think. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to mention them in a review or message me and I will absolutely get back to you. Anyway, thanks so much to all of you for reading, your viewership and support means a lot to me. Enjoy!
When we finally disentangle ourselves from each other, I feel a sense of calm that is entirely new and completely pleasant. I look at Peeta with a big smile on my face and find him looking down at me with adoration and a timid, goofy grin.
I don't want to leave his embrace but I unfortunately can't stay in his arms all night and I'm starving. My stomach rumbles and we both chuckle, a little bit of awkwardness setting in now that everything's out in the open.
Peeta takes my hand and leads me up from the couch to the dining room table. He pulls out my chair for me and tucks it back in, his hand gently touching my shoulder as he leaves to get the food.
He comes back with two plates, both as mouthwatering as before. The sun has set now and everything's illuminated by the soft glow of the candles, including the incredible looking food he's just set in front of me.
Tonight's meal is one of a wide but flat, fresh looking pasta with a chunky marinara sauce and meatballs. On the side is an equally fresh salad with bits of juicy sun dried tomato and cucumber. Peeta goes back into the kitchen for a moment only to reappear with a bottle of red wine and a basket of steaming cheese buns.
I'm salivating, unbelievably excited to try all this amazing food he's prepared. He comes around to my side and fills up the wine glass at my place setting with a small amount of amber liquid and then seats himself and pours himself a similar amount.
"You don't have to drink the wine if you don't want to," He says, looking at me timidly but with something like excitement tinting his expression.
"I've never had wine before, quite honestly," I say bashfully as I place my napkin on my lap, trying to be polite and not make a fool of myself by digging in right away.
"Oh," He says, surprised at my admission, "Well I hope you like it. It goes well with the pasta."
At that, he takes a bite of his own food and I give myself permission to eat. I take a big bite of the pasta and marinara sauce and close my eyes, wondering if Peeta will ever make me a meal that's not extraordinary. The pasta is soft and cooked perfectly, much better than the kind I've had once before on a particularly good night. I savor the food and take a sip of the wine. Its taste is surprising, bitter and tart and slightly overwhelming. I can't say that it's the best drink I've ever had but it warms my throat pleasantly as it goes down and I could see myself getting used to it.
"This is incredible, Peeta. Once again, you've outdone yourself." I look to him to find him looking at me intently, an amused smile crinkling his gorgeous eyes.
"I'm so glad you like it, Katniss, it was my first time making pasta so I didn't know how it would turn out." He takes a bite of his own food and I take the chance to sample all the other offerings, finding both of them delectable, as I knew they would be.
I can't begin to imagine how he made all this from scratch, by himself nonetheless, but I'm more than happy to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labor. The rest of the meal passes in silence, as I don't break much in my eating. We share occasional glances at each other, mostly me being self-conscious and Peeta watching me with a look of amusement and adoration. I can only hope that he enjoys watching me eat as much as I love eating his amazing food.
I've drained my modest glass of wine by the time he clears my plate and I find a warm, fuzzy feeling enveloping me. I find it nice and suddenly understand why people drink alcohol, despite the less than appealing taste.
"Would you like some more wine?" Peeta asks and I nod with a quiet "Yes, Please." He pours me a tiny bit more, less than he did the first time and I appreciate the fact that he seems to be aware of how it might be making me feel and not trying to get me too tipsy.
I feel more relaxed than I did earlier, partly because of the wine but mostly because of the great outpouring of emotion we've both shared. In a moment of courage, I stand up and take Peeta's hand when he's done pouring more wine for us. I lead both of us, each carrying our glasses, over to the couch where we sit down rather close together. I don't let go of his hand and look up at him to find him looking down at me, something like wonder and admiration on his face.
"I've had an amazing night, Peeta," I tell him, impossible for me to be more sincere.
"I'm so glad," He says softly, as though he can't believe that I'm on his couch, holding his hand.
I feel so content in that moment that I drain the rest of my glass before setting it down on the coffee table and lay my back against his chest, not caring about how it might be awkward or how he might not want me to. He puts his glass down too and slips his arms around me, holding me snug against his broad chest.
I feel so safe and secure in that moment, more relaxed than I think I've ever felt. I can feel the rise and fall of his somewhat unsteady breathing beneath me, I can his big hands encompassing mine on top of my stomach. I lean back further, wanting to burrow into him, to never let go of his solid warmth. I sigh as his thumb begins to make small, soothing circles on the outsides of my hands. I sink even further into this feeling of pure joy and contentment. I let it encompass me until there's nothing left in the entire world but this feeling, this knowledge that everything will be ok as long as I'm here.
The next thing I know I'm being awakened gently by Peeta, his soft breath tickling the side of my face.
"Katniss," He whispers, not wanting to disturb me but needing me to wake up.
I'm still half asleep and not ready to come back to the real world, to let this magnificent feeling slip away. I don't think I ever will be.
"Katniss," He repeats, a soft melodic cadence to his voice that only makes me want to sink down further. "Katniss, sweetheart," He places the most gentle, tender kiss to my temple. I feel my skin tingle from his lips and it awakens me slightly; I'm still sleepy but more aware.
"I have to take you home, sweetheart," I hear him call me sweetheart again and I melt, a pleasant warmth coursing through me unrelated to the alcohol. I'm not one for such overt and corny displays of affection, or at least I thought, but I find that it feels entirely different to be the recipient of such a pet name rather than witnessing it. The fact that it's from Peeta doesn't hurt either.
I stir slightly, moaning a bit to express my reluctance to move. Peeta squeezes me tighter and then sits up. I open my eyes and realize that we were reclined on the couch, his back resting against the arm while I was nestled in between his legs. I move out from between him, a bit embarrassed that I had put us in such a position. Peeta doesn't seem to have minded in the slightest though, as he has a tired but goofy grin on his face.
"I'm sorry to wake you but it's getting late and I want to make sure you're home in case Prim needs you," He tells me as he takes my hand and rubs those same little comforting circles on my palm.
I'm touched by his overwhelming thoughtfulness. Between the candlelit dinner and his eloquent confession, holding me while I napped and showing concern for my sister. I hug him, needing one last embrace before the night comes to an end.
He hugs me back, not reluctant this time, enveloping me with the big warm arms that I was so comfortably lost in just a moment ago. I'm still groggy and I don't want to go but he's right, I do need to be home in case Prim comes home early. And even if she doesn't, god forbid that she arrived home in the morning before I did and found I wasn't there. If she saw Peeta drop me off I would never hear the end of it.
The thought is not a pleasant one and it reminds me of the smug look she's going to have on her face when I tell her what happened tonight. I suppose she's earned a little smugness though, she was absolutely, painfully correct in all her predictions.
Peeta and I let go of each other and he stands up and takes me hand, leading me slowly to the doorway. He puts his hand gently at the small of my back as we walk to his car, steadying me as I sway slightly.
He helps me climb into his car by keeping hold of me while I unceremoniously hoist myself up and plop down onto the seat. He smiles fondly and carefully closes the door, making sure I'm all the way inside the car before he does.
He walks around and gets in, careful not to jostle the car too much or slam the door to disturb me in my groggy state. He starts the car and drives me back to my house. At some point someone's hand – I'm not sure if it's mine or his – reaches across the seat to join the other's. I scoot towards him at the contact, stopping just close enough to rest my head on his shoulder.
We pull up to my home a few minutes later and he turns off the car. We just sit there for a moment, both of us not wanting to move and disturb the other. He moves a hand to smooth my hair back slightly and presses another gentle kiss to my temple. I close my eyes, savoring the gentle contact and how his soft, plump lips feel on my tender skin. It feels exciting but also comforting and natural.
It's over too soon and he sits me up gently, taking care to ensure I won't fall over before he gets out of the car and comes around to my side. He opens the door and reaches his hands inside, offering his assistance. He has a gentle, sleepy but content smile on his face and I take his hands, not wanting to leave but more than happy to feel his touch again. He supports me as I hop down, stumbling a bit into him before he steadies me by the shoulders.
He puts his arm around my shoulders and I lean into his side as we walk up to my doorstep. I turn to him, both deliriously happy at the night's developments and sad that I can't spend the entire night wrapped securely in his arms. We're both smiling softly at each other, words not enough to express what we're both feeling. I take his hand again, briefly, and squeeze it, trying to communicate everything I'm feeling, the intense hope and gratitude I have.
He does the same, a soft squeeze and a smile telling me that he feels the same. I slowly release his hand to retrieve the key from the pocket of my dress, turning to fumble with the lock and finally open the door. I turn to him as I'm about to enter the threshold and put an end to our evening.
"Goodnight, Peeta."
"Goodnight, Katniss," He says, smiling a big happy smile back at me.
I force myself to go inside and take one last look at him before I close the door softly. I take in his unruly curly hair and his plump lips and his blue eyes. I take in the way he smiles at me, like I've just put the stars in the sky. I watch him through the window as he goes back up the driveway and finally drives away in his car.
I trudge up the stairs to my room and barely manage to take my shoes off before I collapse on the bed. I go under the covers and feel the darkness of sleep start to crowd out my thoughts.
I do manage to think one coherent thought before I go to bed, though. It's a thought of incredulous wonder at why the hell I didn't just kiss him.
Prim wakes me up around 8 o'clock, earlier than I want to get up but later than I should. She's excited and hungry, a combination that prompts her to chatter enthusiastically while dragging me into the kitchen. I make her oatmeal, still too groggy to talk, but that doesn't stop her from questioning me mercilessly.
"Katniss! I need to know! What happened last night? How did it go?" She assaults me with her high pitched voice as I set her honey drizzled oatmeal in front of her. I sit down next to her and take a deep breath, trying to think of a way to satisfactorily describe everything that transpired last night.
"It went really well," I say, at which she beams at me. "I went over and he had prepared another fabulous dinner but this time he'd lit a bunch of candles and picked some flowers. I was looking at the paintings on his walls and I realized that they were by the same person who did the paintings at the bakery. I realized he painted them."
"He painted those? They were so pretty!" She interrupts me excitedly.
"He did. I was surprised too. Something about seeing the way he was able to paint such ordinary things so beautifully made me realize that you were right. I started crying because I was so happy. I realized that he did like me and that I like him too. We sat on the couch and told each other how we felt and he told me that he's liked me for a long time and he's really enjoyed getting to know me. We hugged and then we ate dinner and he took me home." I purposefully leave out the part about all the touches and the fervor with which he told me why he liked me. I leave out the part where I feel asleep on him and he held me. I don't want to fry Prim's brain with how very cliché and romantic it all was. Anymore than I already have anyway.
"Katniss!" She squeals and squirms a little bit in her chair, turning to look at me with excitement, hope, and a tad bit of smugness.
"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!" She can hardly contain herself and while I would normally find it endearing, it's a bit too early for her current level of enthusiasm.
"Calm down, Prim," I say, holding my sleep addled head. "You were right and I was oblivious and all that, let's just move on."
"Yes, Katniss, I was right, and you were very oblivious about the whole thing. But more than that, I'm so excited that you've both finally gathered the courage to just talk to each other! You two are so incredibly perfect for each other, I can't wait until you get married and have adorable little babies." That statement wakes me up a bit. She's staring up at me, a far away, dreamy expression on her face, as though this is all one big fairy tale.
"Slow down, Prim. No one's getting married and having babies. We both like each other and that's all very nice so we're just going to see where this goes, ok? Please don't ever say anything about us getting married or anything like that to him."
"Ok, Katniss, if you say so," Her voice takes on the same tone it had when she told me how much Peeta liked me. "But you should be a little bit more excited. I mean, have you seen Peeta? He's so handsome!"
I groan, not prepared for my little sister to lecture me on how attractive Peeta is. I'm painfully aware.
"That's enough, Prim. He's been very nice to us and I'm happy that he likes me. I don't want you having any grand expectations. We'll see what happens, but I don't want you being all disappointed when Peeta doesn't manifest into prince charming and ride up on a pony or something silly like that."
She goes back to eating her breakfast but looks at me through the corners of her eyes. "I'm not saying that I expect that to happen. I'm just saying that he makes you very happy and you obviously make him very happy and you guys are so cute together, it just makes a lot of sense that you two would be together. You just need to keep an open mind, Katniss. I know your emotions scare you sometimes but that's no reason to push him away. He cares an awful lot about you and you need to be ready to accept that."
The transition from excited schoolgirl to sage advice giver leaves me a bit stunned. So does the accuracy with which she's been able to read me. My emotions do scare me sometimes and it's hard for me to accept that anyone as great as Peeta would care so much about me. Despite my inability to understand it, Peeta obviously does care about me. And I'm just now letting myself realize that I care about him too. Just as much, if not more than he seems to care about me.
"Thank you, Prim," I say and hug her, to which she embraces me back. When we pull back she goes back to her food, seemingly satisfied with herself and the insight she's managed to impart on me.
I go upstairs to change my clothes from last night and take a nice, relaxing bath. While I'm in the tub I think about the sudden development of our relationship from friendship to something more. It does scare me, simply because I've never done this type of thing before. I've never had someone take an interest in me. I've never wanted them back.
Thoughts of Peeta's feelings drift to thoughts of Peeta, more specifically how beautiful he is. Beautiful usually isn't a word used to describe a man but I think it fits him perfectly. While he's undeniably strong and masculine, he's also gentle and there's a certain softness to him. Between his long eyelashes and his thick, curly, impossibly soft hair, he's the perfect mix of delicate features and masculine strength.
Thinking about him in this way gets me feeling all warm and tingly, similar to how I felt that night that I touched myself. The memory reminds me of how good it felt and how it quelled the fire burning inside me.
I think briefly that my sister is downstairs, that she might hear me, that I probably shouldn't be thinking about Peeta while I touch myself. And then I decide I don't care. The aching and throbbing is too intense, too overwhelming, for me to consider not satisfying myself.
I tentatively slip my hand between my thighs and find that special spot, making me relax further into the tub, sending the water rippling with my movement. I'm more familiar and less hesitant this time, when I find a rhythm and rub small, tight circles around the spot that unfailingly gives me such intense pleasure.
As the moments wear on and my pace and the pressure of my fingertips pick up, I feel myself succumbing to the same feeling of bliss that I felt before. I find myself sinking further and further into my own little world, barely registering the water lapping softly around me.
The only thing that exists in this moment is Peeta and I. The way his touch felt and how his arms were able to encompass me so completely. How his hand at the small of my back sent shivers up my spine.
I relive every lingering touch he's given me and how electrified it made me feel. I think about his gorgeous features and his goofy smiles.
The feeling builds until it comes to a climax, an overwhelming warmth and euphoria spreading through me. It feel so incredible and relaxing as I lie in the tub, water splashing around me, my labored breathing slowing down.
Before I know it I'm drifting off to sleep wishing Peeta's arms were wrapped around me.
I wake up about an hour later, the water now tepid and still. I drag my pruned body out of the tub and dry off, trying to not fall over while I do so. I get dressed in my most worn pants and a long sleeve shirt. The shirt is a tad too small and clings to me a little too tightly, but it's just Prim and I so I figure it doesn't matter. I forgo a bra, as I usually do, hardly needing the support for my small breasts.
I head downstairs to see what Prim is up to and find her in the backyard, talking to Lady while she brushes her. I go to make myself a cup of tea but hear a knock on my way to the kitchen.
I'm more than a little surprised and wary as to why someone would come to my house. I tentatively open it, holding it open just enough for me to see how it is.
What greets me on my doorstep is Peeta, in a pair of his own worn pants and a sweater. As soon as I see that it's him I open the door wider, not wanting him to think that I don't want him there. I realize too late that I should probably put a robe or something on to cover myself.
After I open the door Peeta's eyes travel my form, staying on my torso a tad too long. When he looks up at me he's blushing, no doubt surprised by seeing me in anything form fitting. I'm blushing too, mortified that he can so clearly see the outline of my breasts and nipples through the thin fabric.
"Good Morning, Katniss," He says, still blushing but smiling again and determined to maintain eye contact.
"Hi, Peeta," I say softly, embarrassed and ready to be out of his sight.
He produces a bouquet of flowers that he had been hiding behind his back. They're beautiful, and I can tell they're from the meadow, the one that he painted so masterfully. There are a few carnations from his garden, in addition to dandelions, which I realize he must be fond of. I look closer and I find that there are even a few katniss flowers and primroses mixed in the bunch. He must have spent hours trying to find these different flowers, all of which hold a great significance to me.
He's studying me closely, anxious to see how I feel about him bringing me flowers. I smile gently, thoroughly touched by yet another display of thoughtfulness. I move from the threshold and hug him, the only way I know how to properly express my gratitude.
He hugs me back, holding me in those strong arms that I was imaging just a little while ago. I blush at the thought but squeeze him tighter, willing myself to memorize the feel of him.
We both let go after a long minute and he smiles his goofy grin at me, understanding how much the gesture means to me. I take the flowers and inhale deeply, savoring their sweet scent. I hold them close to my chest, partly to cover myself up and partly out of adoration, at which he looks at me adoringly but still a bit nervous.
"I just wanted to come by and say thank you for last night. It was incredible and I wanted to let you know that I was thinking of you," He says while looking up at me through his lashes, anxiety and sincerity pouring off of him.
"Thank you so much, Peeta. They're beautiful and I really appreciate you coming by. I feel the same way about last night and I've been thinking about you too." I add the last part quietly, as it strikes me that I've probably been thinking about him a little too much. Luckily he doesn't know that. He looks nervous again and unsure of what to say. He runs his hand through his hair and rubs the back of his neck, unknowingly taunting me with his downy curls.
"Umm… I was... I was also wondering if…. If maybe you wanted to do something like that again sometime? It doesn't have to be dinner at my house again, though it can be. We could do whatever you want…" He stutters out, his face as red as when he asked me to dinner the last time. I think his request is adorable and also exciting that he's basically asking me out on a date.
"I would love to." I smile at him, hugging my flowers to me tighter, feeling silly and happy. He's visibly relieved at my words, resuming the same goofy grin he had before.
"Great," He says which he punctuates with an even bigger smile and a look at the ground to compose himself.
"Well, have a good day, Katniss." He tells me and I smile back at him as I let myself feel the happiness without trying to tell myself that I shouldn't get my hopes up. I like Peeta and it's clear he likes me; It's fine that I'm hopeful. I'm taking Prim's advice and not letting my self-sabotaging instincts get in the way.
"Have a good day, Peeta." I echo and he gives me one last look of pure adoration and happiness before turning around and heading back to his car. I watch him on the front porch, immobile, forgetting about my shirt and how silly I look. He drives away and I go back inside.
I close my eyes and lean with my back against the door for a moment, sniffing the flowers and smiling giddily to myself.
When I open my eyes I find Prim is in the entryway, a mix or pure delight and self-righteousness looking back at me.