August 17th, 2011
Note: Two things. First, every day updates will not be the norm for this author. I'm just spoiling you while I have the time to write. : ) Second, the fluff will not last forever. I think, most would agree, that while it's fun, Gale and Katniss need some fuel for their fire. The angst is coming.
As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.
Exchanging conspiratorial grins with Peeta, I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. Somehow we've been roped into a spontaneous game of hide and seek. My mother and Hazelle were up to their elbows in soap suds when recruitment began and got off, free. The older Mellarks had excused themselves after dinner in order to head back into town. Morning rush at the family bakery started well before sunrise, and baking and prep began well before that. So now, Peeta and I have been listening to Gale lay down the most drawn out rules of the game. He is completely ridiculous and the kids love it.
"What rooms are off limits?" Gale asks, striding before us like a general rallying his troops.
"The bedrooms!" they yell.
"Good," Gale nods. He leans in close to Posy, his hands on his knees, his nose almost touching hers. The little girl fights a losing battle to keep a straight face. "And what is the penalty for hiding in a forbidden room?"
"I don't know," Posy says. Her cheeky little smile tells me this is not true. Gale falls to his knees, his hand coming to his chest in mock indignation. I am fascinated by this silly side of him. He commands their attention – even Prim is bubbling over with giddiness – with the same ease with which he handles a bow and arrow. It reminds me of a conversation not that long ago, words spoken of the future, of wishes, of hope.
"I don't know," Posy insists again, and I'm drawn back to the present.
"Death by tickling!" He swoops his little sister high into the air, spinning her once, before sitting her down. "Ready? Hide!"
We flee the living room in a flurry of feet and flying arms as Gale buries his face against the hearth, counting loudly. Peeta and I seem to have the same thing in mind, because we bolt for the staircase. My socks fight for purchase on the slippery marble floor in our foyer and I lose ground to him. He disappears into the upstairs bathroom, just as I reach the top of the stairs. I huff my breath in frustration. It is the only room on the second floor that is not off limits.
"Ready or not, here I come!" Gale shouts from downstairs.
That was a fast twenty seconds, I think. But I don't have time to run back down and hide on the first floor. I slip into a forbidden room and dive under my bed. Death by tickling can't be that bad.
In the dark, my breathing sounds loud and though it may be my ears compensating for my inhibited vision, I work to slow it. The third time I pull air in through my nose and blow it out through my mouth, Gale has found Vick. Now the two brothers will join forces to find the rest of us. I strain to hear the murmuring as they formulate a strategy.
Footsteps bounding up the stairs tell me my number might be up. Listening, I deduce the feet are in fact only one set of feet, and the owner is of light weight. It crosses my mind that I may not have heard Gale's, but then I realize that's my second clue. Vick and Gale have split because Gale would not travel with a loud companion. His style is more stealth and surprise.
Vick's form blocks out the ray of light leaking into my bedroom through the cracked open door, but only momentarily. Either, he has decided not to look in a forbidden room first or thinks no one would willingly want to be tickled to death.
Domestic quiet takes over for a few minutes and then I hear, "Gotcha!"
Peeta's laugh is followed by, "Take me to your leader."
I smile, his voice sounds like he's genuinely enjoying this game. It's the first time I admit I've been worrying about Peeta's feelings since I walked in the front door. He's probably surmised that Gale and I are guilty of something but he doesn't have any inkling of the extent of it. I shake my head, clearing those thoughts from my mind.
The voices I hear downstairs are louder now and I tune into the conversation.
"I have to sit out, I know too much." This is one of the other rules, hiders cannot seek when they know the location of another hider. That was Peeta.
"There's no one else up there. I checked."
"All the rooms?" I recognize the doubt in Gale's voice.
"No, there's no other room to hide in up there."
A pause, and I slide further under the bed because I can practically hear Gale's thoughts. He doesn't think everyone's playing fair. He knows I would challenge the restrictions.
"Keep looking around."
Vick runs off, and there's a murmur. Something passes between Peeta and Gale but I can't hear it. I'm pressing my cheek to the floor, coaxing nothing helpful from the carpet. I'm not sure how much time passes before I realize there's something blocking the light from the hall. My heart leaps into full gear as if this were actually a deadly hunt and not a children's game. The door pushes open on eerily quiet hinges and I catch a glimpse of socked feet.
I don't have to see his face to know his eyes are scanning the room. He'll note the covers still tucked neatly on the bed, realize the closet is overflowing with clothing, see the curtains pulled to the side of the bay window. My mind's eye is scanning his features so intently, I jump a little when I realize the gray eyes and handsome face I'm imagining are right in front of me. The unchecked movement gives me away.
"Hi, Catnip."
In vain, I try to escape his reaching hand, but Gale finds a grip on my ankle and I'm caught. Part of my strategy is to "surrender" without resistance, this helps avoid me avoid carpet burns and tricks Gale into thinking I'm not going to run. Arrogantly, he lets me go as I lie supine before him.
"Why are you in a forbidden room, Catnip?" He's whispering, because he wants to keep his discovery a secret. He wants maximum torture time.
"I ran out of time," I whisper back, pleased when my voice sounds high and breathy. I'm grinning guiltily, drawing him in with my admission of defeat. As adrenaline builds in my body, my chest rises and falls rapidly, and I notice Gale's eyes drop and watch for just a second. It's the second I need.
Flipping onto my stomach, I quickly scurry out of the room. Or manage to crawl two feet, before I'm back on my back, pinned to the floor, arms over my head, Gale straddling my middle. I make a valiant attempt to scowl in defiance, but when he leans forward, it's like electric current runs through my body. He kisses me lightly, barely allowing our lips to touch. I'm completely trusting so when launches his first round of tickling, I shriek with surprise.
"Gale!" I laugh, twisting and squirming away to no avail. "Gale, please!" His fingers poke and prod, sometimes gently, sometimes not. It's clear he's taking full advantage of being able to touch me, his hands linger in places that would raise eyebrows, but I can't protest because I'm laughing so hard.
"I'm sorry, Gale!"
He pauses his assault long enough to let me catch my breath. The tears stream down my face, wetting the hair at my ears. He grins at me, and says, "No, you're not."
The next attack leaves me squealing Gale's name and begging for help, and I have never been so grateful to be dog-piled by children. Rory, Vick, Posy, and Prim collapse on top of Gale, who falls backward easily, commanding his troops to turn their focus to the rulebreaker. Thankfully, they don't listen. Residual giggles escape me as I gingerly pull myself up to lean against the bed. My skin feels hot and sweaty from all the laughing and I watch the tangle of little bodies and one big eventually fall apart into individuals again. Only when everyone is gasping for air do my eyes find Peeta.
He's leaning in the doorway, watching the scene before him. After a moment, he turns to me. There's a smile on his face, but when I realize it doesn't quite reach his eyes, my own disappears from mine.
The living room has a happy holiday feel as we huddle around the fireplace, cupping mugs of hot cider. The snow falls in thick clumps and the wind howls against the panes. It took exactly one minute for my mother and me to convince Hazelle and Gale to just stay overnight. Wandering home in a full blown blizzard is not advisable even if you are an experienced outdoorsman like Gale, not to mention navigating blind conditions while herding three young children.
It took a little longer for me to talk Peeta into staying for a mug too. I could tell he was uncomfortable with what he had seen during hide and seek, but I didn't want him to leave making judgments, however true they might be. He agreed, though I think it was more to mollify me than because he wanted to.
Glancing around the room, I can see sleep in almost everyone's faces. The crackling of the fire lulls us into content dazes. Curled in her mother's lap, Posy is the only one who has succumbed to the silence, though Prim is not far behind. Her head bobs as she drifts in and out, her grip loosening on her mug. I stand, touch her shoulder, and offer to take her mug into the kitchen.
"I'll help," Peeta says, rising to his feet too.
"I think it's about time for everyone to call it a night," my mother says. "Peeta, are you sure you don't want to stay?"
"It's only two houses over," Peeta replies, "I think I can handle it."
"I'll walk you out," I say.
We collect the rest of the mugs and exit to the kitchen followed by a chorus of good nights. Setting the mugs in the sink, Peeta and I make quick work of washing the mugs before I walk him to the front door. There's a tense moment where each of us searches for words and we listen to the sounds of feet shuffling in the upstairs hallway.
"Thanks for dinner," Peeta says, slipping into his heavy wool coat. He opens the door, steps out into the cold night, and I follow him. I try hard not to shiver as I let the door close behind me, but I don't want our conversation overheard.
"Peeta, I'm sorry…" My mouth feels dry and I lose my nerve. "I'm sorry you had to see that."
He looks at me, confused.
"Gale and me, I mean." I duck my head, pushing snow around with my toe. "I wasn't trying to rub it in or anything."
"Katniss," he says, his mittened hands finding my shoulders. I look up at him. "I meant what I said on the train. I get it. I won't lie and say I necessarily like it, but I get it. I can see how easy it is with Gale. For you."
"Try not to think about it too much, okay?"
"Okay," I say. Only Peeta could find a way to something so kind and make me feel like confessing my sins. I have to remind myself that what Gale and I did isn't anyone's business but our own, but Peeta's selflessness makes me feel like a criminal. He doesn't mean to, I know, because he doesn't know about this afternoon in the woods. Still, I would feel better if he showed a little anger.
It probably isn't the smartest move to hug him but I do anyway. "Find me tomorrow sometime. I need to talk to you. It's important."
When he pulls away, his eyes blaze with questions but he understands. It's too long of a conversation for tonight and I'm shivering uncontrollably in my light layers.
"Go inside and warm up, Katniss," he says, heading down the path. "Have a good night."
"Good night!" I call over the wind.
The snow erases him from view after a few steps. I turn to go inside, exhausted and ready to bury beneath the covers of my warm bed.
~Fin
Confession: I wasn't a fan of Peeta in the books, but he's kinda fun to write.