I send out my first thanks to HopeNeverDies for being the first to review, and agreeing to help me with the wedding. :D So thank you soooo much, and thanks for everyone else who reviewed! Here's chapter 35! Oh, and just to let you know, chapters are going to be coming out way slower. I'm actually editing once, twice, three times and making sure everything is PERFECT from now until the wedding, not including the many things I am considering in. But don't fret, sweet children; it will allll be worth it, I promise.
oOo
At some point in the night, I woke up. I laid there in bed, thinking sleep would find me again, but none came. I didn't know what was wrong, or if anything woke me up. But opening my eyes, I found the door open. Did Peeta do that? Looking over at Peeta, I saw that he was still fast asleep, arms reached out halfway to me in the position he dropped off in. A small smile stretched across my face at the sight, but it did not linger.
The golden light cast from outside in the hallway was suddenly blocked by a shadow. Frowning, I sat up, careful not to disturb the sleep of my boy beside me. The shadow was one of a man, but not a familiar one. My heart skipped a little, frightened beat and I shrank closer to Peeta. Who was this and what was he doing in my bedroom?
He glided over in the dim light, and even standing over me, I couldn't see his facial features. But I could smell him. He reeked of blood and ash and even past the stink of burnt flesh, I could smell the white rose scent filling my nostrils. No.
I was frozen with terror. This was just a bad dream, it was just a dream. I told myself over and over, but it never convinced me. I stayed still as a hunted rabbit, as if he wouldn't see me, but it was hopeless. Snow was standing not two feet from me, on the other side of the bed where Peeta is. Not Peeta. I pleaded. Leave him alone.
I had thought he'd go after me. I had thought I'd be his first target, but no. I sat, shaking and terrified, and watched as Snow brought something from behind his back. I only had time to scream before the silver knife sliced sideways across Peeta's neck. I lunged forwards and pressed my hands to the long cut, hoping to staunch the blood, but it only got me messy. I could feel the hot, sticky liquid as it stung my palms.
Snow, seeing my attempt to save him, snarled and smacked me across the face with the back of his hand. Pain shot through my cheek, but became soon forgotten when bloodied hands clamped down upon my own throat. Immediately, black dots danced in my eyes and the room before me flashed and swam in and out of view. With one hand clapped hard on my esophagus, I watched through barely working eyes as Snow grabbed a gurgling Peeta by the collar of his shirt and dragged him off the bed.
"P-P—" I rasped, but it didn't come out through my closed windpipe. I was slowly losing consciousness, but I got a split-second's worth of air as Snow's hand slacked just a bit when he began tying a cloth around Peeta's neck to keep the blood from getting anywhere but where it seeped on our pillows. I took that chance to yank away from Snow, without much success. I coughed and shook, but nothing in the world could have stopped me from reaching my hands out to Peeta. My boy…
But Snow didn't want that. Looking up, he dropped Peeta right there on the floor and dove forwards. It was like getting hit with a metal baseball bat in the throat. My head snapped back and blackness filled my vision. I was out, but no sooner had I lost consciousness, the hands left my throat. But this time, I was unable to do anything but lay there, trying to refill my lungs. It felt like inhaling fire. Tears poured wildly down my face as I gasped for air. Black still framed my vision, but with every breath I succeeded in taking, more of the darkness faded.
I'm going to murder him I promised in my head. Snow will die this time. Now that I was mostly alive and conscious, I could hear white noise filling up my head. Maybe it was rage. Somehow, I found the strength to sit up. Of course, I fell back down on the pillows, crying and gasping some more. The murderous feeling had vanished.
Peeta. The word formed on my lips and I started crying even harder. It hurt, just breathing, and I was sobbing so hard my sight once again left me. Peeta, Peeta, Peeta… I clenched and unclenched my fists with agony, feeling the hot blood against my fingers. No, no…
"Peeta!" I screamed, laying there, wanting to rip my own heart out for this pain. Struggling, I sat up in bed and scrambled at the empty bed sheets, wanting to see something besides the streaks of crimson blood. "Peeta!" I couldn't help but cry his name, over and over. I didn't care about Snow anymore, he was gone, but Peeta, my Peeta…
A loud sound of a door slamming open filled the room and I suddenly realized the white noise was gone. Once again ridden with terror, and I let my eyes trail away from the bloodied pillows to the open bathroom door. Yet another shadow was cast by the light pouring in, except I didn't freeze like the first time, waiting for the shadow to come and murder me. I scrambled backwards, my breath once again caught in my still-aching throat. My hands gripped the headboard of the bed, and I pressed myself flat against it.
The figure began walking towards me, but…as he neared, I could see more of him. I knew I didn't want to, but my eyes just wouldn't shut. They were locked open, staring as I cried, petrified against the wooden back of the blood-soaked bed. My hands were starting to sting.
The man—young by the way he walked—came quickly and when he sat down on the edge of the bed, I could see. Blond hair that was sopping and wet and was on the point of needing a haircut, wiry muscles visible in his chest and stomach and arms, clothed only in a hurried set of undershorts. There was only a fleeting feeling of confusion before a painful sob came ripping out my throat.
Peeta held his arms out to me and I launched myself into them, straddling his legs with my own, wrapping my arms tightly around his quite intact neck, burying my face in his hair. My sobs were probably really loud and nerve-wracking since my lips were right next to his ear, but I couldn't help it. In fact, I was probably strangling him, clinging on as tight as I was.
"Peeta…" I whispered once and, just to see he was real, I was kissing him. Everywhere I could reach, I pressed my lips against over and over. His forehead, his cheek, his collarbone, his throat, his mouth. Yep, he was real. Hysterics came bubbling from my own mouth and I was laughing and crying and I had to stop kissing him to bury my face back in his hair, breathing in his scent. I snorted and laughed harder, feeling tendrils of wet hair catch my tears, but breathing in just brought the pieces of hair up my nose.
Peeta, who seemed slightly confused by this, responding only by holding me tighter, and his hands left the small of my back to wrap round my waist to their full capacity. "You're okay, Katniss…"
I was used to those words.
"No…" I shook my head, swallowing past the fiery lump in my throat. I pulled away only slightly, not even caring that I was sitting on him like that. "You were…I was… I was crying for you… You were…" I came to realize my hands, still around his neck, but slowly, with wide eyes, I brought them back to me, holding them out in the light for both me and Peeta to see. They were still covered with blood. I was shocked into silence. But you're alive, Peeta…
Peeta frowned, and brought his hands from around me to cradle mine gently in his, and he stared at them for a second. When he brought his face back up, one of his hands trailed from my wrists up my arm to my shoulder, which was bare due to the too-large collar of my nightdress. "Katniss, what happened?"
I wanted to tell him my whole dream, but I knew he was just asking about the blood on my hands.
"It's…it's your blood." My voice came out in a rough whisper, just as confused as he was. "At least, it was in my dream…"
Peeta gently slid out from under me and stood up off the bed. Neither of his arms left where they were as he helped me up. "Come on, love." He guided me to the bathroom, and I just stayed silent as he turned on the tap and held my hands under it.
The brilliant florescent lighting hurt my eyes for a second, but there was no mistaking the deep red ribbons as they flowed from my palms and down into the drain, spiraling with the strands of water like flowers. Peeta kept bent over my hands, and worked more of the blood off with gentle fingers. And the cleaner my hands got, the more prominent the blood source was. Crescents of red formed a lopsided line on either of my palms and—with every bit of blood washed off—another bead formed on each of the eight crescents and rolled off. I had clenched my hands so tight my fingernails had actually broken skin.
A small, sympathetic sigh escaped Peeta's mouth and he only dropped one of his hands away from mind to reach under the sink and grab a first-aid kit. He's lived with me long enough to have learned that in order to be properly prepared for my accidents, there needed to be at least one kit in each room. We've learned this by experience.
The silence as he worked was deafening, and I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around him again. The dream still haunted me, and just thinking about it was painful. I could still feel the fingers around my throat, and the blood pulsing through them as I touched Peeta's wounded neck. And, it seemed, with every dream I had about Peeta dying, the more I realized how much I'd lose if he really did die.
Peeta, who was done with wrapping clean white bandages around my palms, put away the kit and turned to me. I felt his blue eyes staring into mine, but I couldn't meet his gaze.
If he really did die, I'd feel terrible. For everything. For yelling at him nearly every other day. For rarely telling him anything that's wrong. For acting how I did yesterday. For not loving him as long as he's loved me. Maybe that's what was wrong. Maybe I didn't love him enough. The thought stuck me dumb. Of course I loved him enough, the first half of my brain thought matter-of factly. Key word: enough, said the other part, the louder one; you know he loves you, but maybe you have a hard time being happy because you don't love him enough.
"What's that look for?" I was forced to blink and notice Peeta again, who looked confused and worried.
I opened my mouth, but was forced to close it again. There wasn't anything to say. So I just stared at the floor and shrugged. "Nothing."
"Don't lie to me," Even though his words were harsh, his face remained just as worrying and sympathetic. "You always do that. Something's up, and yesterday you broke down because of something you'd kept from me too long. You can't keep things from me, Katniss."
"I couldn't tell you that, Peeta." The lump was returning in my throat and my eyes began stinging.
"Every time you bottle something up you get a little more un-helpable. Every secret you keep from me, the more we grow apart." His hands gripped my wrists and pulled me a tiny bit closer, so I could see the serious spark in his eyes, now slate. "I can't let that happen."
"Sorry if I don't want to complain to you every time something's bothering me." I hissed, more upset at myself than him. "You have to be so perfect all the time, you never complain about how screwed-up your fiancé is, how much crap is going on in her head. Fine, I don't tell you anything. Maybe it's because I love you too much to burden you, have you ever thought of that?"
Peeta shook his head, slowly. "It's not just that. I know it isn't. Don't bother telling me different."
We can't fight, I told myself. Fighting is pointless, especially about this, not a week after he proposed. Could it be I don't love him as much as he loves me? Instead of arguing further, I just shook my head and began to turn around. But before I could step out of the room, Peeta's hand grabbed my upper-arm and spun me around. Before I could even scowl at him, he'd bent over me and pressed his mouth on mine. I felt my heart skip in my chest, and, automatically, I kissed back. But it didn't last as long as I'd imagine.
Peeta broke away and stared into my eyes, making his gaze inescapable. "I need to know what you're thinking. We can't get married and stay like this forever, only ever speaking when there's something negative to say. You need to tell me, no matter what else is going on in there. Don't worry about complaining or whatever; when your—our life depends on it, it is more than just a matter of what either of us like or don't like."
I was suddenly annoyed. Was this still about the pregnancy thing? Didn't he understand anything I said yesterday? I threw up my arms. "I'd tell you if you'd listen!"
He frowned. "What does that m—?"
"Boys." I scoffed. I wanted to shout it, but it's not something you normally shout. "Did you not listen to anything I said yesterday?"
Peeta made a face that seemed half-dubious, half-wary. "You're…not pregnant." He seemed very cautious saying those words.
Ignoring the worry that cropped up once again at the thought of those words, I nodded slowly, eyebrows raised cynically. "And…? What does that mean?"
He seemed to not be enjoying this. "I don't know what you're saying."
"I'm PMSing, idiot! How else would I know that I'm not pregnant?" I threw my arms up again and stalked into the bedroom. The sun was beginning to rise outside, bathing the room in a dim blue light. I was able to see things much clearer now. "You're badgering me about what's wrong and why I'm acting so weird. Well," I spun to face him, hands on hips, slightly upset at the way he was trying to keep away a smile. This isn't supposed to be so funny. "Try being a girl for a month and you'll never ask one why they're being moody ever again."
Peeta stood there in the bathroom doorway for a second, blinked, and then burst out laughing. His abdomen tensed up as he laughed, water spraying everywhere when he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I…" He trailed off and laughed again. "I don't know why I didn't put two and two together. That makes a lot of sense."
"Of course it does." Now it was pretty much impossible not to smile. Well, grimace more like it. Sure, I was still frowning inside my heart because that was just admitting I wasn't pregnant. Denial seemed to be one of my specialties nowadays.
"So are you saying nothing is actually wrong with you?" Peeta walked over to me and took my hands gently by the wrists.
"I never said that." I tried to scowl, but it ended up dissolving into a defeated contortion. "But for now, I guess. Once I get over the fact that I'm unable to have children…"
Thankfully, he ignored that last sentence. "Will you be okay if I finished getting dressed?" His voice was quiet, and I automatically glanced down.
"Ah." I realized he wasn't really dressed. Perhaps he was in the middle when I started screaming. Something dawned on me just then. The white noise I heard as I was panicking? The shower. I sighed, and then smiled a tiny bit. "I'll be fine, Peeta."
He gave me a small kiss on the forehead, and turned to return to the bathroom. But as soon as his back was to me, I saw something. Now that the room was bright with the early sun, the dark handprints on Peeta's shoulder blades were visible.
I wrinkled my nose. "Peeta,"
He turned his head a fraction towards me. "Hm?"
"You—" I paused, walking up behind him. The dried, maroon streak of blood left over from my hands smeared across his back. Eugh. "You have some…blood on your back. I'm sorry. Ew."
Peeta raised his eyebrows and I followed him into the bathroom, where he tried to turn his back towards the mirror to see the marks. It didn't work.
"I'll get it." I offered before I even knew what I was offering, but it was too late to go back. The memory of back in the Games was inevitable as I took a small towel from on the rack. I ran warm water on it from the tap until soaked, and I tentatively put it to the dried blood on his back.
Peeta stayed silent as I wiped it away, probably staining the good white cloth. I had to sigh, and apologize again. "I'm sorry, Peeta. You just had a shower." I brought the cloth back down and just tossed it into the dirty laundry basket, which needed to be tended to.
Peeta turned back around. "Don't be sorry. I'm just worried about you." He looked down and took my hands in his, and you could see the line of red blood that had already seeped through the bandages. "That dream must have been crazy."
"That's one way to put it." I swallowed, and the dream came back to me without me wanting it to. "Just…don't ever die, okay? I've witnessed it too much."
"I'll do my best." He touched my cheek gently, but then brought it back down. "Now go get dressed." Peeta smiled down at my nightgown. "We have a big day ahead of us."
Now it was my turn to frown. "I wasn't aware we had anything planned for today."
"I was hoping your family could come over for dinner. To discuss plans for the wedding since we were unable to do that a few days ago." He straightened up. "That's okay with you, right?"
"That's fine." I felt kind of relieved to know that as soon as I was alone with Mother, I could cry again. But instead of saying anything else, I just sighed sadly and started backing up towards the wardrobe. Peeta closed the door of the bathroom as well.
We had pancakes for breakfast, which was quite ironic, remembering Prim and her pancakes. Lunch was quick, and when five o'clock rolled around, Peeta sent me to ask my family if they could come at six. They could. And once Peeta knew that, we got to work right away cooking. At first he treated it as if it was some type of fancy banquet with a thousand different foods, but I reminded him that we were used to living on barely anything, so he agreed to tone it down. But even toning it down, he sent me off to the bakery to pick up some type of bread that was apparently hard to make at home away from the kitchen stuff in the bakery kitchens.
"Where'd you put the turmeric?" Peeta was digging through one of the cabinets above the sink.
I looked up from the potatoes I were murdering and frowned. "What's that?"
He rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's a spice, Katniss. Ah," He reached back into the cabinet and pulled out a container. "Here it is." Peeta bent back over the duck he was preparing and continued working on it. I had no idea we even had that thing, but I learned never to question anything Peeta pulled out of the fridge. He seems to go on crazy shopping trips I've never even realized he went on. Peeta turned to glance at me before shoving the bird into the oven. "I take it you weren't the cook in your family?"
I shrugged and sprinkled some salt on the potatoes. "Not really, but when I did cook, we didn't have the money for all those fancy spices."
Peeta blinked once, and looked away. Not in shame or embarrassment. It's just that we both knew that I lived in poverty for sixteen years of my life. There wasn't much to say to that.
We worked for another bit, cleaning up a bit and stuff. Nothing too special had to be done, since it was only my family, and the laundry needed to be done anyways, but by dinnertime things were considerably neater than they used to be.
"It's nearly six-thirty." Peeta dumped the contents of the dustpan into the trash. My family was late, so we resorted to doing a complete wipe-down of the house, which wasn't quite finished. He shoved the broom back into the hall closet and walked over next to me. "Should one see if they're able to come?"
"Nah," I wrung out my dust rag and wiped my hands off on my trousers. "They're fine. I think I may need to change shirts, though. I got some mystery goo on me."
"I haven't cleaned in a while." Peeta admitted. "So I wouldn't be surprised if it—"
All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door, followed by a hollow wooden thud.
"Ah. Perfect timing." I dropped the rag and felt a tiny bit better, knowing that my family was here. Peeta followed me back into the living room where Mother and Prim were standing. Primrose was wearing a pretty pink dress, emphasizing her rosy cheeks. She looked slightly exited, hence the dressing-up. Mother stood beside her in the same outfit I caught her in a few hours ago. She had her hair back and a yellow notepad in her hand.
When she saw us enter the living room, she held out her thin arms for a hug. "Katniss!" I was immediately choked in her motherly embrace, but as soon as I was released, I got to watch Peeta be strangled as well. "Peeta! I'm really glad we could do this today," She pulled away.
After Prim got done hugging us, Peeta went to get dinner ready. Though my heart was being held high, it was only by strings. Far back in my mind I was still upset, but only avoiding the truth. As soon as possible, though, I wanted to tell Mother and Prim the news. Or lack thereof. My heart deflated a fraction.
Primrose seemed to notice my mood and uncertainly stepped closer to me. "Are you okay today, Katniss? Were we…" She shifted her feet, unsure. "Were we right?"
I felt a tiny lump starting to form in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I couldn't have another breakdown today. I couldn't. So I shook my head at my little sister and turned away. "I can't talk about that right now."
Of course, she wouldn't really take no for an answer. But there wasn't any need for taking any other but no, because she already saw through me. A little frown appeared on her perfect porcelain face. "Oh, Katniss, I'm so sorry."
I shook my head, but before I knew it she had her thin arms around me and I was crying. No, no, shut up. I tried several times to inhale all my tears and stand straight, but Prim was the straw that broke the camel's back. I couldn't hold it in.
Mother, startled by my sudden outburst of tears, came over and put her free hand on my shoulder. "What wrong, Katniss?"
I shook my head violently and pulled away from both of them. After taking a few noisy breaths, I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm fine. I said I don't want to talk about it." My voice was snappier than I had wanted it, and of course it drew Peeta into the living room as well.
Upon seeing me like that, his eyes widened a fraction. "Katniss? Are you—?"
"I'm fine, shut up." I barked, scowling. But when he began walking towards me I couldn't do anything but glower at the floor, tears still stinging my eyes.
"We don't have to do this today, you know." Mother, though she looked curious, didn't ask what was wrong, thank goodness. She knows me well. She glanced at Peeta, but he just shook his head sadly.
"No, no." I said quickly, but not dropping my scowl. "It's fine. Today's fine." Sighing crossly, I stalked past Mother and Prim, past Peeta, and into the kitchen. But my mood was temporarily suspended when I saw the table. It was just a table, but seeing everything so much neater and organized than normal shocked me. But I didn't have to say anything nice to Peeta about it; Mother beat me to it.
She came up next to me and made a noise of astonishment. "It looks wonderful!" Her voice was light, in an attempt to make amends for my upset. "You outdid yourselves. We just came over to discuss wedding plans."
"It's an occasion." Said Peeta simply, and pulled out a chair for me to sit in.
I blinked at him in surprise, but took the seat. And of course, being a gentleman, he did that for Primrose as well. She smiled at him, dimples appearing in her cheeks.
The food was served, and we ate. It was amazing, as usual, and every five or so minutes Prim paused eating to say how delicious it was. Once the clatter of silverware and dishes had slowed down enough to speak, Mother pulled out her yellow pad of paper and set it on the table.
"Down to business, then?" She said, and Primrose straightened up, looking excited.
I looked up from my food. None of the meal on my plate had really gotten eaten, just pushed around as I sulked.
Peeta folded his hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward. "Where to begin…?"
"Congratulations, again, Katniss." Prim smiled at me, wanting a smile to come out of this meeting. "And Peeta, of course." She flashed her grin at him as well, who had the decency to smile back.
I tried a grimace, but it didn't stick, mostly because I felt Peeta's hand slip around mine discreetly.
"We have to consider size first thing," Mother suggested, pretending she didn't see that. But I knew in the twinkle of her eyes she did. She averted them down to the paper in her hands. "I'm thinking the entire country would want to be there, Katniss, but I know you wouldn't want that."
"No," I wrinkled my nose and widened my eyes, just imagining a wedding like the one at the Capitol would have been. "Definitely not. I'm thinking maybe something around three people and pajama pants."
Peeta and Prim grinned at this, but Mother was the one who actually laughed out loud.
"I know you'd like that, but Haymitch makes four. You want to have him come, don't you?" she said, eyes still laughing.
I considered, and agreed. Though he was my last reminder of the Games, he was like an uncle to me. A drunk, sarcastic uncle who could go a day without making some offhand innuendo about me and Peeta. "Yeah, okay. Haymitch."
"What about Annie and Finnick?" Prim asked, eager in her eyes. "And Jace?"
I was about to nod my head and agree right away, but the thought cut me short. I wasn't so sure I could handle being around Jace when he just reminded me how much I wanted (and didn't have) a child of my own. I brushed that off. "Yeah, them too."
Right away, Mother began jotting things down.
Peeta leaned forward on his free hand and blinked in contemplation. "How about…"
"Johanna?"
I raised my eyebrows at my little sister skeptically. We haven't seen her since about the first month after being rescued. She was bad-tempered and ill. And having her at the wedding would be pretty disastrous. More innuendos! Just what I needed. "Eh…."
"We'll think about that one." Prim shook her head, but her eyes were amused. "Anyone else?"
There was a moment of silence when all four of us just sat there, chins propped on our fists, thinking. It was still and lovely for a few minutes, but a movement in the corner of my eye made me glance over at Peeta. He touched me wrist gently.
"I want Ivy to come." He said in a light voice, looking into my eyes. But his voice was asking for permission more than anything, which made my eyebrows crease. "And her mother."
I flicked my eyes down at the table, where our hands were laced.
"Who's Ivy?" Primrose asked, her heart-shaped head tilted slightly to the right.
Thankfully, Peeta saved me, because I was currently unable to speak.
"She's a little girl Katniss and I met a few times in town. She thought Katniss was a princess." Peeta smiled crookedly. "Adorable thing."
Mother smiled, and when she did, it reached her wide blue eyes. "That's sweet." She made a little note on the yellow paper. "Anyone else?"
Peeta glanced over at me. I shook my head.
"Okay…" Mother scratched a line under the guest list. "I'm sure the list will grow as we go on, b—"
"I won't have the country here." I repeated, just for clarification. "No way."
She looked tired of hearing this, but smiled nonetheless. "Of course. But there's always the option of having it be an open wedding, so people can come, but it can still be a small ceremony."
I eyed her. "No poofy dresses and makeup and speeches?"
"Not if you don't want."
"I don't want," My neck was getting stiff, leaning forwards like this, so I leaned back. "But I might consider possibly thinking about maybe having it open." There's no way. Ever.
"It should be in the backyard." Peeta, who had been staring up at the ceiling in thought, looked back down at me. But nothing else was said.
That was written down, too.
"We have to…" A large yawn interrupted Primrose mid-sentence. "…to think about money."
"We still have about two cases down in the basement." Mother hadn't missed her youngest daughters' yawn, but she ignored it for now. "In each of our houses."
"But we're using that. For food and such." As soon as the words slipped out my mouth, I shut it and fought the urge to slam my head on the table.
"We can support ourselves." Peeta's face was amused, but the sympathetic, obvious look was still there. "With my bakery and maybe if you ever start hunting again."
I felt my face flush with upset and I dropped our gaze, staring at the table. I wasn't sure Mother and Prim knew I quit hunting, but it wouldn't be hard to guess.
"And there's a fair income with the hospital." Mother had the decency to ignore that.
"So we're going to blow five whole cases of money on a wedding?" My mouth popped open in surprise. Surely, judging the way we used to live, none of them would even consider wasting all that money on a simple wedding? Back then, we would have been able to live a year—or more—off that much money.
"Of course not," So they hadn't forgotten. Thank goodness. "We can just not worry about spending too much."
I nodded, still not liking it. The subject was changed.
"So, if the ceremony is going to be outside, where will they do the toasting?" Prim looked up at her mother. "Unless we have a fire outside, of course."
We considered this.
"The initial rite will be outside, but once that's over, we can go inside and do the toasting and have cake." My mother was on a roll. It was almost amusing watch my entire wedding play out from the mouths of my mother and my sister.
"Have the whole town inside mine and Peeta's house?" I nearly stood up, and it felt like my eyebrows were lost in my hairline. "Are you mad?"
"That's no way to talk to your mother," She scolded briefly, and then her face softened. "And no, we won't have the whole town in your house. Only the people on the list can come in; the rest leave after the vows. And inside we'll toast and have dinner and cake. Small, like you wanted."
The sounded much better to me. But funnily enough, Peeta cocked his head and said, "Actually, I think I have different plans for the toasting. Just her and I."
"Oh, okay." Mother scratched something out, and looked back up.
But I was curious. I eyeballed Peeta suspiciously. He just grinned and winked. What the heck? Oh, wait— Oh… I looked away, a slight burning in my cheeks. Wedding night. It was obvious what he meant. I shrank an inch further down my chair.
"But we're still going to…to…" Prim yawned again. "to make Katniss wear a dress." She smiled at me. "No matter what."
"Of course, dear," Our mother straightened up in a very concluding way. "But another day. It's your bedtime."
"Mother, I'm not ten anymore." Prim pouted. "And I'm not tired."
"Well, I am. We should get going." She stood up, and her youngest daughter stood up reluctantly with her. "The dinner was amazing, really." She complimented both me and Peeta, but I let it bounce off me and go directly to him.
"It was mostly Peeta." I said truthfully. He gave me an exasperated sigh, but said nothing.
"Well, it was amazing nonetheless. And I think we got at least some things done today, I think." She smiled and tapped her yellow notepad. "And once we get some more things in order, we'll be able to set a date."
Peeta nodded. "That's fine. Thanks for coming."
Primrose hugged us both, and left trailing behind her mother. Peeta and I watched them walk out, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. When the door had finally closed after my family, I turned to him and let out a small yawn myself.
"I think it's time for us to sleep, too." Peeta bent down and gave me a tiny kiss. "You look exhausted."
"I am." And without waiting for him, I backed away and headed for the stairs. I was almost half-blind, I was so tired. Despite the charade at dinner, I was bone-tired and in complete denial. When I got to our room, I headed straight for the wardrobe. My nightgowns were usually hanging up in the corner and Peeta's clothes folded under them, but I couldn't find any. Well, I probably wasn't really looking hard enough, but either way, I just grabbed a pair of Peeta's pajama pants and headed towards the bathroom to change, unaware he was standing right behind me watching in amusement.
Off went my boring blue jeans and on went the red plaid pajama pants. They were soft and smelled like Peeta. Mm… They were a tiny bit too big for my small hips, so I just tugged the drawstring and tied it into a bow. I think I may have to wear his pants more often… After only briefly unbraiding my hair and brushing my teeth, I came back into the room in the pj pants and my undershirt. Peeta was sitting up in bed in his pajamas, knees tucked to his chest, tapping his pointer nail on the plastic of the foot of his prosthetic leg. When he heard me come out, he glanced up.
"Katniss," He leaned back and reached out his arm to me automatically.
But I didn't huddle into them like usual. I sat just outside them, not trying to be rude or anything. My eyes were on his prosthetic leg he had been tapping. It was so easy to forget… I ran my finger along the fancy metal-and-plastic mechanism, running it along crevices and false joints. If it hadn't been a replacement for a leg, there probably would have been a sticker on there somewhere that says 'keep fingers and tongues away from machine in risk of severing'.
I pulled my hand away and laid down next to Peeta, on top of the covers. He slid down next to me.
"I see you're borrowing my pants." He said, smiling slightly. I opened my mouth to apologize, but he brushed it off. "It's fine. You can have them. They look better on you than they do on me."
I was too tired to scoff and say otherwise. So I just uncaught the blankets from under me and settled under them with Peeta. Though it was slightly chilly outside the covers, his body heat radiated everywhere. It was near impossible not to scoot closer to him and put my forehead against his shoulder, but I wasn't up to testing the probability.
Things were silent for a few seconds, and then Peeta tightened his arms around me. "I'm sorry what Prim said upset you."
"Did you have to bring it up again?" I propped myself up on my elbow, scowling down at Peeta, who looked about five years older than he really was. "I was trying to deny it, which was working fine, but every time it's brought up again…" I sucked in a breath. "If you could let me deny it, I'd be fine. But everyone seems keen on making me cry." I sat up suddenly and swung my legs off the bed.
Peeta's hand on my upper arm stopped me. "No one wants to make you cry, Katniss,"
I stayed silent, staring at my plaid legs.
"You're fragile right now. Don't give in to that, let me help. At least until your girl-moment is over." When I looked over, I could see the miniscule smile on his face. "For now."
"I wasn't actually leaving." I said tiredly. "Just getting a drink."
Cautiously, Peeta let go of me and allowed me to stand up. I wasn't actually planning on getting a drink, but there was no way I was going to tell him my previous intentions, so I reluctantly went into the bathroom.
Little bubbles rose to the top as I filled up my cup. I was exhausted and still somewhat upset, and wanting nothing more than to just sleep away my troubles. But I could really do that. Sighing slightly, I took my cup of water, went back into the room, and sat on the edge of the bed. Peeta was watching me, I knew. I was used to it, though, and I took a sip of water. We both know I'm a big fat liar.
About halfway through with the water, I set it down on the nightstand and slid my back resting against the headboard, feet tucked under me.
"You should really try to sleep, Katniss." Peeta said from next to me, sitting up from his original lying down position. "You look terrible,"
I glared at him. "Gee, thanks."
"I'm serious." He touched his thumb to my cheek with a sympathetic look in his eyes. "And I'm here if you want to vent anything."
"There's nothing to vent, Peeta." I said truthfully, rubbing my eyes. And when Peeta didn't respond immediately to this, I slid further into the covers and closed my eyes against the pillow.
Peeta didn't do as I did right away. Instead, I felt his hand sweep back a piece of hair from my face. But after waiting a few more seconds, he adjusted himself lying down and turned his head towards me. I felt his gaze hammer down on me, begging for me to open my eyes, but I resisted and sank further into the pillows. A few minutes passed, and I was just about to the point of unconsciousness, I heard a quiet snore from the other side of my bed.
I peeled my eyes open. Peeta was fast asleep, pretty blond hair falling into his face and his mouth open a fraction. His hand was reached across the bed a few inches from my own, but he never made the move to hold me. Without thinking much, I stretched closer and pressed my lips to his, gentle enough not to wake him. Maybe hopefully he will eventually understand that I'm never actually angry at him.
I let out a quiet yawn, closed my eyes again and let myself be pulled under.
oOo
Isn't it weird that in England, "pants" mean underwear? Haha. Funny Brits. I wonder what else has different meanings… Potato? "Hun, go get the potato masher from the basement, will you?"…"O_O" Just kidding, I love you. :3
Review, guys! I'm getting less and less reviews, it's starting to worry me! Maybe there was a sudden plague of zombies and half my readers got mauled by the undead. It's always a possibility.