Coffee and Classics
Wow! What a response after that last chapter! People were angry, sad, crying, convinced that she didn't do it; it was my most reviewed chapter yet! Needless to say, I've tortured you enough, and it's time to let you know what happened. Enjoy!
I do not own The Hunger Games.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
I storm back into my apartment, shrieking incoherently. I burst into my bedroom, throwing my door against the wall, glare at Finnick's sleeping form.
"WHAT THE FUCK, FINNICK?!" I yell. He rolls over on his back, startled awake. I cover my eyes, not wanting see his "little junior." "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NAKED?! AND IN MY BED!"
Finnick grabs one of my pillows, puts it over his junk, and groans. "You went to bed, and I was on the couch, and I got really hot. So I took off my clothes. And then I felt like snuggling, so I came into your bed, but you punched me in the face when I tried. And then I passed out."
"WELL PEETA JUST WALKED IN HERE, AND THOUGHT WE HAD SEX AND CHEATED ON HIM!" I yell, practically stomping my feet like a five year old. The sleep begins to leave his beautiful face is replaced with worry—whether it's from my yelling or from fear that he might have destroyed my relationship, I'm not sure. But I don't care, I'm livid and visibly trembling with rage. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!"
I regret my words almost instantly when I see Finnick's face. He looks truly hurt, unlike I've ever seen him before. I backpedal quickly. "Finnick, I didn't mean that. I just can't lose him."
Suddenly, I'm no longer angry, but empty. I can't lose him. My legs give out, and I fall to the floor; a chest-heaving sob rips through my body, and I begin to shake uncontrollably. My vision blurs from the tears, and I barely see Finnick leave the room, but then he comes back with his boxers back on, and sits down on the floor next to me; he puts his arms around me and pulls me until my head rests on his chest.
Never in a million years did I think that I would ever be comforted by Finnick Odair. He's probably never even wrapped his arm around a chick without moving his hand onto her boob. But I can't focus on that now, because my chest feels like it's been ripped open and it's bleeding all over the place.
"I love him," I choke, wiping my nose on his bare shoulder. "I told him I would hurt him somehow, and here I am."
"Shh, shh. Katniss, he will understand once we explain it to him." He runs his fingers through my hair and takes a deep breath. "Let's get dressed and head over there."
It's been three days since Peeta saw Finnick and me in bed together. He wasn't at his apartment when we stopped by, and hasn't been there the hundred times I've gone since. He hasn't answered any of my calls or texts or emails—fuck, I even sent him a letter explaining everything. But I haven't heard anything. Rye must be gone by now, and I didn't even get to say goodbye, but I don't care about that now; I just need Peeta.
"Katniss, you have to get out of bed," Prim calls into my room. It's three p.m., and I've been here almost twelve hours, plopping in after I tried to see Peeta at his apartment—again finding it empty.
"No. I don't. I'm never leaving this bed." I pull up my covers and bury myself deeper into the darkness.
"Katniss. Please," she pleads, sitting on the end of my bed. She pulls the covers aside and slips under them, curling up next to me. As soon she places her hand on my arm, I break for the billionth time, my cries causing shutters to take over my body.
"I love you, Katniss. But you need to get up and go get him," she says, clutching me to her chest.
"How?" I mewl, tears dripping down my face and neck. "He's never at his apartment. He won't answer my calls. He hasn't been at work. I don't know what to do."
"I have a plan," she says confidently. "But you have to get out of bed first." She rips the covers off both of us and leaps out of bed.
It takes a few minutes, but my curiosity grows, halting my tears, and I have to find out what she has in store. I groan loudly and mosey out of bed, following the path Prim took into the kitchen. These last few days without Peeta have been the worst of my life. I knew that I was in love with him, but I had no idea how much until I was without him. I am irrevocably broken. When I finally sit down at the kitchen island, she releases her plan on my desperate ears.
"Okay, so I called Sae and talked to her and she explained that Peeta has been ditching work, and when he called her yesterday, she told him that if he doesn't come to work today, than she will have to let him go. So he's going." She notices the slight smile forming on my still blotchy face. "So you need to take a shower, obviously, and go down there!"
"What do I do?" I ask as I begin to fidget.
"Tell him what happened with Finnick, in a public place, so he can't run away. And tell him that you love him and you're miserable without him. Tell him that you want a future with him, and that you'll never want anyone else."
I begin to panic. Can I tell Peeta all those things? I mean, I think I feel them, but still, it's entirely different to admit that to him.
"Katniss, you can tell him that you feel those things," she says, reading my mind and placing his soft hand on my rough one. "He feels them too. He's just distraught. He thought you cheated on him—he literally saw you in bed together, and Finnick was naked."
I nod, and get up off my stool. I need to get him back.
After a short shower, I braid my hair and walk into my room. Prim is in there, holding her make-up bag and placing an outfit on my bed. She sits me down in my chair and quickly puts on mascara and peach lip gloss before giving me my outfit. She picked out a wavy peach dress with white flip-flops and I quickly slip them on.
"You look beautiful, Katniss. How could he not take you back?" She smiles brightly at me, and gives me a big hug. I take a deep breath, trying to still my beating heart and racing pulse. It doesn't help. With no more hesitating, I leave my bedroom and exit my apartment, hoping for the best.
I watch Peeta from behind a bookshelf as he moves around behind the counter, making drinks and getting scones. He still looks amazingly handsome, but he also looks terrible. He has deep blue circles under his eyes from obvious lack of sleep and his beautiful hair is greasy and sticking up in some places and matted in others.
After about twenty minutes of watching like a stalker, the store empties, until there are only two customers in the every back. I watch Peeta as he deflates now that he's alone; his fake smile disappears from his face and sorrow takes over. He leans against the counter, his shoulders slumped and puts his head in his hands. It's now or never.
"I didn't sleep with Finnick, I swear." I say, stepping out from behind the bookshelf. Peeta stands up, startled, and faces me. Before he says anything, I let the words tumble out of my mouth. "We got drunk, and after I went to bed alone, he got hot and stripped off his clothes, and he tried to cuddle with me. But I punched him in the face and then he passed out next me. Trust me, Peeta. I would never lie to you. I could never cheat on you."
I take a few steps toward him and pause again, trying to analyze his face. But it's emotionless; so I just continue.
"I'm not good with words Peeta, but I fucking love you. And it scares the shit out of me, but I have to make sure that you know it. Because I can't be without you anymore." I take a deep breath as tears begin to stream down my face. "These last few days were horrible, and I've felt like a zombie, just going through the motions. It's like life has no meaning without you in it. Please, let me back in. I love you. I need you. Please." The tears pick up, but I make no move to brush them away. I step closer to Peeta, until I'm right in front of the counter. His mouth is open, and he's taking deep breaths. I reach out my hand and touch the scratch on his cheek still there from the fight he had with his brother.
"You're the one," I whisper. His eyes flash with recognition.
"You didn't sleep with him?" he asks, his face no longer emotionless but broken.
"No. Never. Only you." He pulls his face out of my grasp and I instantly feel rejected—the tears begin to pick up again. However, he moves around the counter and as soon as he reaches me, he grabs me and his lips are suddenly on mine.
I moan, relishing the feeling of his lips on mine again. His tongue darts into my mouth and slides against mine. He lifts me up, and my legs wrap around his waist.
"I love you, Peeta," I whisper against his lips, momentarily breaking the kiss.
"I love you, Katniss." We kiss again, pouring all of the emotions from the last few days into it. We kiss for what seems like years, our hands moving from hair to backs to shoulders to faces and beyond. I need to be near him for as long as possible. The thought of parting from this kiss scares me so much, I just cling tighter.
"When do you get off work?" I ask, as I move my lips down his neck. He sets me on the counter and stands between my legs.
"Now. I'm off now. I don't care if I get fired, I'm off now," he pants into my hair.
"No. You can't get fired. When are you actually supposed to get off?" I ask again, breaking the kiss to look into his sapphire eyes. I keep my hands at his shoulders, my left hand curled into the hair at the bottom of his neck.
"In two hours, at six," he says, playing with my braid. "But I need to be around you right now. You can't leave me."
"I won't," I sigh, kissing his lips again. "I will be next to you every second of these next two hours. And many hours after that."
"Thank god," he exhales. "I couldn't breathe these last three days. The idea of you cheating on me…" he trails off, his voice breaking.
"How could you even think I would cheat on you? Let alone with Finnick." I ask, slightly peeved, but mostly hurt.
"He was naked, Katniss. As much as I thought you wouldn't cheat on me, it looked pretty bad and not in your favor."
"The odds are never in my favor," I sigh, placing my head on his shoulder. "Except when I met you."
He tilts my chin up to look into my face; his eyes are bleeding into my soul. "I feel exactly the same way."
I sit on a stool by the espresso machine the rest of Peeta's shift, watching him as he works. His broken demeanor before is completely gone, and he wears a grin constantly; he glances over at me every ten seconds, like he checking to make sure I'm still here and haven't disappeared. But that's never gonna happen again. Every time he passes me to make a drink, he gives me a lingering kiss on my neck or cheek causing me to close my eyes and sigh.
Soon enough, his shift ends and he takes my hand as we practically sprint out of Coffee and Classics and to my apartment. As soon as we open my door, Peeta lifts me up and grabs my face, pulling it to his.
"Prim," I whisper against his lips, pulling away to see if she's here. Peeta walks over to the kitchen island, still holding me with my legs wrapped around his waist, and hands me a note from the granite counter. It reads:
Katniss,
I am at Delly's apartment. I figured you and Peeta would want some alone time. I love you. Tell him I say hi.
Love, Prim
I smile and place the note in front of Peeta's face. He reads it, a chuckle escaping from his beautiful mouth. I set the note back on the counter and weave my hands into Peeta's blonde curls and begin to slowly plant wet kisses along his chiseled, stubbly jaw. He moves his hands from my lower back to cup my ass and thighs under my dress, and walks towards my bedroom.
He gently lays us down on the bed. Together, we begin to take off each other's clothes until we are just in our underwear and our other clothes are thrown around the room.
"I missed you so much," Peeta whispers as he licks the length of my collarbone. I shiver and run my hands across his muscled shoulders. We sigh together.
It seems like hours that we just let our hands glide over every inch of each other's skin—trying to make up for the time that we lost. But eventually, tingling fingers aren't enough.
"Peeta, I need you inside me," I say, blushing at my words. Peeta lifts his head from my shoulder and looks into my eyes; they are glowing blue orbs, burning with lust and I want to clench my thighs together. He puts his hand between our bodies and pulls down my underwear first, then tears off his own.
He positions himself at my entrance and then moves his left hand to my braid. He plays with it momentarily, smiling down at me. I flutter at his expression, so loving and lustful. I move my hands down his back to cup his cheeks firmly, and slowly pull him into me. We moan in unison at the sensation. When he's buried deep inside me, he pauses and we relish in the feeling. This feeling of us connected makes me feel complete; like I've been missing a piece of myself, and he's it.
"I love you," I frantically whisper as Peeta begins to move, slowly thrusting in and out. Peeta moans at my words.
"I love you. So much."
"Never leave me again, Peeta. I won't survive," I mewl, tears pricking behind my eyes.
"I won't. I can't. It hurt too much," he whimpers, leaning down to kiss my lips again. He shutters, and begins to pick up his pace. Right now, it's not about prolonging the moment, it's about reaffirming our love, and I need to release with him.
I wrap my legs around Peeta's hips, pulling him deeper; he groans and moves his lips along my neck. I moan, and run my nails down Peeta's back, just like I know he likes. He gasps, and increases his sucking and licking.
I feel myself about to burst, and Peeta senses it, and begins to pound into me. After a few seconds of his deep and fast pace, I explode on Peeta, my walls clenching around him; it sets him off and he comes with one final deep plunge. We call out each other's names as we finish, together.
Peeta collapses on top of me, and I revel in the closeness. Every inch of him is wrapped around every inch of me, and it's perfect. This is how it should always be.
After several minutes, our breaths return to normal and Peeta moves his weight off of me, slipping out of me, and moves his hand to clasp my face, looking down at me. He smiles broadly and lovingly, and I return it. He moves his hand down my neck, between my breasts and down my stomach until he lets it rest on my hip. He leans down until our foreheads are touching and he kisses my nose.
"You are everything to me, Katniss," he whispers softly, kissing my nose again.
"I feel the same way about you, sexy." I say, moving my head to nibble on his ear. He chuckles, but it soon turns into a moan.
"Again?" he asks, when I tilt my hips upward to his.
"Again," I say, and pull his face down to mine.
I open my eyes, glance at the clock and see that it's 5:49 a.m. But I'm unfathomably wide awake. My mind starts to wander to last night. After our round two, Peeta and I lied together and just talked about everything and nothing. Apparently Rye left on Wednesday, after spending the day before trying to coax Peeta out a depression. He tired both alcohol and porn to get him out of bed, but neither worked and they ended up arguing. Rye was convinced Peeta just needed to bang someone to get back at me, but Peeta said he couldn't bear the thought of touching someone else. I told him I felt exactly the same.
I look over to Peeta's sleeping figure. He kicked the comforter down the bed, so all that's covering his gorgeous body is a tiny sheet that is pulled up to his very lower back. If anyone walked in, they would realize that he is naked. And damn, if it isn't the sexiest thing on this planet. I still can't believe that out of everyone in this world, Peeta loves me. Crazy, angry, broken me. My heart pounds in my ears just thinking about it.
I shift to the edge of the bed and grab the navy blue t-shirt Peeta wore yesterday, and quickly pull it over my head. I move back to Peeta and begin to run my fingers through his blonde curls. He looked exhausted yesterday, and I should probably let him sleep, but I don't want to. I want to see his blue eyes again—I need to. He stirs, and turns his face so it's facing me; and then his eyes flicker open and my heart stops. They are light this morning, and they pool as they focus on my face. He opens his mouth to say something, but I lean down quickly and press a lingering kiss to his mouth—our lips overlapping and interlocking. After a few seconds, I pull away, then shift on the bed so I'm lying on my side with my head on his pillow—our noses touching. He takes a deep breath and smiles, then moves his right arm and places his hand on my chest, right above my heart.
"I missed this," he whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine. "Those days without you were…fucking terrible, to say the least. It's like I didn't see sunlight for three days—perpetual night." I move my left and to his bare side and begin to move it up and down along his soft skin.
"Me too. When I wasn't calling or texting or emailing you, I was under the covers, crying my eyes out. It hurt so much to be without you." Peeta moves his hand to my hair and begins to twirl the loose strands from my braid around his forefinger.
"Yeah, Rye kinda convinced me to throw my phone against the wall—he said it would be cathartic."
I sit up in bed, curious. "And where the fuck did you go, anyway? I stopped by your apartment a million times and you were never there."
"I crashed at my buddy Thresh's. Even my apartment reminded me of you." His eyes turn down, and he begins to pick at an old nail polish stain on the pillowcase.
I lift his face back up to mine. "Hey. It's done. We're moving on. I didn't cheat and I love you. And if I saw you in bed with a naked chick, I would have done the same thing you did. After I beat the shit out of you, and the slut," I say, trying to relieve the tension in the room. He smiles with me and leans up to me to glide his nose up and down the length of mine.
"I love you, baby," he breathes, moving his hand from my hair to my cheek, cupping it and grazing his thumb along by cheekbone.
"I love you."