Angels have no philosophy but love. - Terri Guillemets
She never intended to become a permanent resident at the Hob. It just sort of worked out that way. Some days, she compares the Mission to a black hole, a force of nature from which there is no escape. Other days, she is thankful because it's the closest thing she has to a home and family. She never meant to stay. That's the part that shocks her more than anything.
The days run together, moments melding and mixing until they are indistinguishable. What should have been weeks only turns into months. She asks herself where the time went and how she ended up in this place. She finds no satisfactory answer. She tells herself not to question it, to chalk it up to guardian angels sending good fortune her way. The part of her that knows what it means to see everything good taken away can't help but wonder when this too will fall by the way. She knows how to be alone. She knows how to get by. This is something entirely new. This—whatever this is-she has nothing to compare it to.
Sae has become more like a mother than a friend. She never stints on giving advice or her opinion whether wanted or not. She watches over those she deems family with the single-minded determination. Heaven help those who hurt one she considers her own. Katniss has long since discovered that it's easier to go along to get along when it comes to Sae. Once taken under her wing, it's a life sentence. There is no early release for good behavior.
Johanna is a trusted friend and adversary. Conversations with her are more like battles than exchanges of information. Coming out of them bloody and bruised is the best that can be hoped for. Blunt to a fault, contrary and perverse, willful and strong-willed. She is the older sister that Katniss never wanted but now can't imagine doing without. She is as much like Prim as a cactus is like a rose. There is no common thread and yet she finds it difficult to think of one without the other coming to mind. One is a sister by blood, the other by circumstance.
And then there is Peeta Mellark. She keeps a list of words to try to figure out who and what he is to her: friend, savior, confidant, ally, cohort, life line. Any and all of them fit depending on the day and context. If asked, she would call him good. That's the word that ultimately comes to mind…he's so good. Sometimes, she doesn't feel worthy of the looks she catches him turning her way. He looks at her like she hung the moon. She knows it's not real, that she's more apt to make a star fall than light up the sky. He only shakes his head, smiling softly whenever she points out this inevitable truth to him. "You don't know the effect you have," he whispers, color riding high in his cheeks. "You're more than you think you are."
"What does that even mean?" she asks, almost thinking she knows but scared as always that she's aiming too high and, because of that, will most certainly fall.
"Figure it out," he predictably replies. "I'll confirm or deny, Katniss. You'll have to work the rest out on your own."
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The first time he held her hand was on the fourth of July. The night was hot and muggy with a million stars reflecting off the still waters of the lake. The campfire had burned down to gray-orange embers, the acrid scent of smoke hanging heavy in the air.
She stood back from the crackling blaze, her jaw tense and tight. Johanna took one look at her face and quickly bit off the stinging remark she was about to let loose. Instead, she grabbed another sharpened stick and put it in the fire beside her own. Katniss gave her a weak grin when Johanna handed her a plate a few moments later.
Peeta watched the exchange from the shoreline, his face expressionless in the flame-kissed dark. He made his way to her side, a warm solid presence that soothed as much as it comforted. She wanted him close, needed it even if she couldn't say the words out loud. He seemed to know even without her asking because he didn't go further than arm's reach the rest of the evening. When the fireworks started, she felt his hand slip into hers. As their fingers twined together, she finally found the courage to meet his gaze. The sparks and flashes lighting up the dark had nothing on the warmth that engulfed her at the look in his eyes. He smiled and gave their joined hands a reassuring squeeze before tilting his head back to the blooming sky. She closed hers and focused on how impossibly perfect his hand felt in hers, dreading the moment she would have to let go.
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The first time he hugged her was on a Tuesday. Sae dropped a pair of gardening gloves in her lap during breakfast with a gruff order to see to the flower beds flanking the porch. Katniss rolled her eyes at the woman's back and stuck out her tongue just as Peeta wandered in to grab a bite before he started his shift. Her quelling glare quickly stifled his laughter along with any questions about what prompted such a display. Embarrassment, not anger, turned her cheeks a becoming shade of pink. She hurriedly finished her meal, and then yanked on the gloves as she rushed headlong for the door. His hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. His blue eyes alight with laughter and something she had no name for mesmerized her, held her spellbound as he pulled her in and wrapped her up tight. Her curves fit his lines as if they were two pieces specially made to fit together.
"If you hate it that much, just tell her no," he murmured into her hair.
"I don't hate it," she breathed him in— cinnamon, dill and something uniquely him. "I just don't like it much."
His arms tightened ever so slightly. "Thanks for clearing that up," he remarked playfully. "I would never have figured that out on my own."
She leaned her head back to meet his gaze and mumbled softly, "You shouldn't laugh at me, you know. It's not very nice."
His mouth tilted into a grin despite his apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Katniss."
She suppressed the urge to smile back, instead gifting him with her customary scowl. Her brow furrowed in confusion as his smile broadened at the sight of her stern face. She pulled reflexively away and muttered under her breath. "I don't understand you."
He let her go, his hand lingering on her braid as he slowly backed away. "It's not that hard to figure out."
Her breath left in a ragged hiss. "Maybe not for you but I'm no good at this stuff."
He gave disbelieving snort as he turned to the sideboard and began to fill his plate. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure it will come to you eventually."
She tucked the gloves into her back pocket, gave him another scowl for good measure and stalked out the door. It was only when she was out of sight that she let out the breath she'd been holding. "It already has, Peeta. I just don't know how to say it yet."
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The first time he kissed her was on a Thursday during the worst storm the town had seen in ten years. Thunder muttered in the distance and the air was full of waiting. Something momentous was about to happen and the world held its breath. Once upon a time, she'd loved storms but that time had long since passed. These days, she sought distraction or, better yet oblivion. Anything would do as long as it pulled her mind elsewhere.
It started off slow, a misty rain and a freshening wind. Lightning flashed-white fire that lit up the sky-followed by the cannon's boom of thunder. She couldn't stop a shiver and indrawn breath as the storm rolled on in earnest. It pelted the earth unforgivingly as it turned from a shower to a flood. Huddled in an armchair, she didn't see him enter until he knelt before her and gently clasped her hands.
"It's okay," he murmured, noting her pale cheeks and wide, worried eyes. "You're safe. I've got you."
She managed a distracted smile, her gaze inextricably drawn to the window where the storm raged unabated. "Look at me," he cajoled as his fingers tipped up her chin. "Listen to me, Katniss. I'm here. You're safe."
Her eyes darted up to meet his only to move immediately back to the window. His hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head as his lips found hers. A second stretched out to eternity as her mind struggled to process exactly what was happening. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out the distant thunder. Strong fingers held her steady while the world heaved beneath her feet. She remembered the way he tasted from that ill-conceived kiss in the ambulance a lifetime ago. The way he groaned as she angled her head to seal their mouths more tightly together. The solid feel of him surrounding her, as if nothing could reach her as long as she was in his arms.
He pulled away only to drop softer, lighter touches on the tip of her nose, the center of her forehead, her closed eyes, and the palm of her hand still clasped within his own. "You don't have to be afraid. If you believe nothing else, believe that."
"You don't have to protect me," she whispered.
"We'll protect each other," he countered. "That is, if you'll allow it."
Her answer echoed her request from another mist filled night, "Will you stay?"
"Of course," his smile was luminous. "Always."
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Three words. Three. Little. Words. She couldn't count how many times she heard them. In the morning as she drank her first cup of coffee with sleepy eyes and tousled hair, whispered in her ear before nodding off each night and at odd moments in between. He made it look so easy. She often found herself with the words on the tip of her tongue, but try as she might...she couldn't say them out loud until a balmy, bathwater day in August when she couldn't get them out fast enough.
Sae hosted an annual end of summer picnic for the local kids. The Hob employees were usually called upon to man activity stations, organize games, and dish out copious amounts of food. Katniss ended up
helping with the ball toss and running an archery booth on the side. Just across the yard, Peeta presided over an extravaganza of water coloring and chalk drawings. Judging from the amount of noise wafting from that direction, it was a great success. Taking advantage of a lull, Katniss made her way over to view the artwork and to catch a glimpse of the teacher.
He was stretched out full length with his head almost touching that of the small girl's next to him. Dark braids tied with dainty pink bows swung on either side of an angelic face. Her little brow was scrunched in concentration, the tip of her tongue barely visible as she concentrated on shading a lopsided blossom to her satisfaction. She beamed as Peeta murmured approvingly and then giggled when he sketched a bumble bee crawling along one velvety petal.
Katniss stopped a knot in her throat at the sight of them. Something about it seemed so right and real. Longing for something she never knew she wanted filled her up to overflowing. To those watching her watching him, it was written all over her face.
Peeta glanced up and grinned as he caught sight of her standing frozen just steps away. "Hey," he said brightly. "Did you come to help us draw? I'm sure Posy wouldn't mind sharing her chalk, would you?"
The little girl enthusiastically agreed. Unable to resist, Katniss joined them. "You can draw here," Posy chimed in helpfully. "Use my blue." The two of them went to work on the flower; Posy supervising as Katniss obediently used the blue chalk to fill in the remaining blooms.
Her eyes met Peeta's over Posy's head and before she knew it, the words tumbled out. "I love you."
For a man known for his golden tongue, the stunned silence following her confession should have been comical. For a woman known for keeping her cards close to her vest, her shocked expression was priceless. Typically, Peeta recovered first but the only word he could manage was a choked off "What?"
Katniss opened and closed her mouth a few times before covering it with a shaking hand. "I didn't...that is, I didn't mean to say...what I meant was..."
He sat up abruptly, eager eyes fixed on her face. "What did you mean, Katniss?"
She closed her eyes, inwardly cursing her stupidity for blurting it out like that. When she opened them, all she could see was the hopeful smile on his face. That more than anything sealed her fate. She gave him a tentative smile in return and there was no hesitation as she repeated firmly, "I love you."
Whatever he meant to say in reply was lost as Posy gave them a mutinous look. "I want to draw," she demanded.
They both turned their attention back to the girl and her drawing. Still, his hand found its way into hers. His smile mirrored hers. His mouthed "love you back" said everything she needed to hear.
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They were married on a Saturday in spring beneath a blooming apple tree surrounded by family and friends. The bride wore two pieces of jewelry in addition to her silk and lace. One was her pearl engagement ring which hadn't left her hand since the night he placed it on her finger with kiss to seal the promise. The other was a battered gold locket, all that was left of her family. It was her something old and something borrowed because, to her, it would always belong to Prim.
As she stood to speak, her fingers found the locket and clutched it tightly as she always did when things seemed too much to bear. "I wish they could be here today," she said softly. "I know they'd be happy." She had to stop when the tears came and could no longer speak past the lump in her throat. Peeta was at her side in a moment—his arms as always her refuge from the world. More than one pair of eyes misted as they watched the exchange. When the bride moved to continue, the groom stayed at her side.
"I lost everything in an instant. I lost myself." She dropped her gaze to the locket, her voice frayed and breaking. "It was easier to survive alone than to live and try to love." Her eyes found Sae's. "Thank you for taking me in when I had nowhere else to go." To Johanna, "Thank you for being my friend and for kicking my ass when I needed it." To Rue, "Thank you for helping me find my way home." To Peeta, "Thank you for loving me and for letting me love you." She opened the locket and stared down at their much-loved faces. "I miss you and love you every day."
Raising her head, Katniss gasped as she glimpsed a blonde girl at the edge of the crowd, her hair a wrist thick rope down her back. Her blue eyes danced as she looked lovingly back, a brilliant smile lighting her face. "Prim," The single word fell from her lips as she took an involuntary step forward, hands raised in mute appeal. The specter seemed to pause, and then touched three fingers to its lips before she faded from view.
The feel of Peeta's hands brought her back. She turned into him and let his arms enfold her. "You okay?" he breathed.
She tucked her head into his shoulder, his heart beating steadily beneath her ear. "Better than okay," she murmured. "I'm home."
It ends….thank you for reading.
Salanderjade