Chapter 46:
Get a grip on yourself, Katniss, my subconscious screams at me, you're crying over a cake. A cake! Haymitch might have to amend his earlier statement about me not crying over just anything. But I can't help it- it's just so…
The cake is enormous, enough to feed everyone there, no doubt- and it is so huge in surface area, with so many large square tiers, that it doesn't even rest on a table but on a wide but squat cake stand right off of the floor. Each tier is separated with pillars and frosted with something different- though all of them unquestioningly are with Peeta's hands, his touch. The colors of icing pulse with life; the images are so intricately detailed I wonder how they could possibly be frosting at all- they look like brilliant, vibrant photographs. In fact, they are remarkably similar to the paintings that he showed me of last year's Games. But they aren't of last year's Games.
The top tier is relatively tiny- designed for Peeta and me to share- and shows the two of us lounging on my bed back home, working on my family's plant book. Though there were probably at least a hundred more romantic, dramatic, and/or emotional moments that Peeta and I shared in our time together, this is one of the only ones that has next to nothing to do with the Capitol or the Games- and for that reason, it's my favorite. And while I'm not sure it would rank nearly as high on Peeta's list (especially with all of the kissing we've been doing lately), he knew to put it in there anyway, for me. And to me, it represents- well, not only the best of our past, but hopefully, the best of what our life might be like in the future- uneventful, peaceful, normal. That's assuming that the rebels eventually prevail over the Capitol, of course. I doubt I could ever truly feel at peace before then.
But it's the other tiers that spark my attention. The largest tier is one of Prim, my mother, and I standing outside of our home in Victor's village. It was simply a family moment, sometime in the months of us preparing for the Quell, captured through Peeta's eyes. At the time, it carried no particular significance to me- it appears that the three of us are just talking- but what I immediately notice about the image is that through our facial expressions and body language, you can see our three distinct personalities perfectly. My mother, loving in the way her arms touch both Prim and I, but broken in her slightly vacant stare; myself, defiant in the way my arms are crossed but tender in the way I am leaning down towards Prim; and Prim herself, happy and wide-eyed, open to the two of us, open to anyone. Astonishingly, Peeta has even managed to capture the pre-Quell expression in Prim's eyes- one of pureness and light and childish innocence- that I now desperately wish I could still see.
Though the size of that particular tier draws the most attention, the other smaller and slightly more hidden tiers tell me even more. There is a tier featuring an image of Paavo and Prim, laughing together- presumably after Haymitch had told them something ridiculous during the course of their training. But the particular tier that had set off my eruption of emotions was one of the smallest, positioned with the shortest pillars above it so that it was the one most difficult to see. It had a picture of Annella, Mouseface, Jack in the Quell, looking at Prim with smiles on their faces, somewhere in the interim of defeating the rest of the tributes and hearing the awful Gamemaker announcement. Seeing their happy and hopeful images on the cake, as opposed to the horrific ones I had in my mind of them hanging to their deaths, allowed me to finally feel the sense of closure I had been searching for all day. It was kind of like going to a funeral of someone who was really sick, and looking at them, fixed up and resting peacefully in their casket, finally not suffering anymore.
Was this the most romantic gesture that Peeta has ever done for me? No. But thinking about him working dead into the night to create this- for me, for us, for everyone- it is by far one of the most touching, the most moving, the most loving. And when I look up at him I see that he has tears in his eyes, too.
"How did you do this?" I whisper in awe at him, wiping at my eyes, amazement taking over sadness.
He just gives me a little smile. "It's what I do- like you going hunting, Katniss. And I needed to do it for me, too- especially the one of-," his voice cracks as he says Paavo, "to keep the nightmares away. But I also had a lot of help from the talented Capitol bakers. I showed them how to do all of the frosting in the background so that I could focus on the people, the faces."
I glance back down at the cake again, examining his painstakingly hard work. When I look back up, I see that we aren't alone. Prim is standing right next to us, clearly emotional from his gesture, too. Her bottom lip trembles and her breathing escapes as ragged bursts as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. Sensing what she's going to do, I gently pull away from Peeta so that Prim can jump into his arms.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers to him. He holds her tight as she sobs into his sleeve. She sniffles. "Will you ever be able to forgive me?"
Peeta just keeps holding her, softly stroking her back. "Sshhhhh," he reassures her, "You did what you thought you had to do. There's nothing to forgive."
By this point Avoxes had appeared with a knife, plates, champagne- Peeta is forced to let Prim go, who nods and quietly sits down in her seat at the next table. Peeta turns his attention back to me.
Though a little redundant to the bread-toasting, this time the Capitol audience shouts and cheers as Peeta and I slice our first piece of cake, feeding it to each other caringly. We raise our glasses as Haymitch takes a microphone and begins to speak to the crowd, and to Peeta and me. He gives us a little smile as he tells everyone the story about Peeta pulling him aside at last year's Games, requesting that we train separately as he prepared to reveal his true feelings for me, and how he could see the magnitude of Peeta's love for me way back then. The audience goes crazy. We all clink glasses and I taste the fancy champagne. Unlike the harsh liquor or bitter wine I had tried earlier, I love the sweetness and fizziness of the drink, and I proceed to polish off every last drop before the glasses are quickly collected and Peeta and I are ushered out onto the dance floor.
They announce Peeta and I's first dance as husband and wife, and the music comes on- Peeta must have requested it, this version is instrumental but I recognize the melody as a song that I used to sing to Prim back in District 12. The lights on Peeta and me remain bright but we can see them dim all around us. Peeta wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me close as I reach my arms up to the back of his neck and we begin to sway slowly to the music.
Our first dance is- and there's really no other way to describe it- sensual. The sides of our faces gently brush up against each other and I can feel his hot breath ticking my ear- the presence of my fancy dangling earrings (which I never wear) only heightens the sensation. Even though he's showered, I can still somehow smell traces of dough and bread and vanilla from the bakery last night. But he's also wearing just a hint of some sort of aftershave, and the subtle scents mixing in my nose are completely intoxicating. Our bodies press really closely to each other, so close that I can feel his heartbeat when I choose to ignore everything else- and it thumps along in a rhythm much faster than the music. The way that our bodies are touching, combined with the way that our bodies are moving, make me hyper-aware of the feel of the satiny dress brushing against my skin, leaving my oversensitive nerve endings tingling for more. I don't know if the champagne has anything to do with it or what, but they way that we're dancing is beginning to make me a little dizzy, lightheaded.
Peeta pulls his head back slightly so that he can see my face, and he takes one hand off of my waist to cup my chin with a couple of his fingers. "Have I told you how absolutely beautiful you look today, my wife?" his voice cracks as he says it and is full of disbelief.
I flush, interpreting his incredulous tone to mean that he's amazed that we're finally married, not amazed that I look beautiful (at least, I hope so). Before I have the chance to doubt myself, he follows it up, dashing any uncertainty.
"I still can't believe that I'm lucky enough to be in your life this way." His fingers are still on my chin and he gently directs it upwards towards his face, leaning in for a kiss. It's short but searing- he feels warmer than normal- and when he pulls away, all too soon, my lips throb, feeling somehow abandoned. But that feeling is quickly replaced when he pulls me even closer, pressing me even more tightly against him. We continue to slowly rock back and forth, blocking everyone and everything else out.
A tap on my shoulder from behind a few minutes later breaks me from my daze. I suddenly notice that the music is different, and that dozens of people are moving onto the dance floor. Peeta and I had danced right through the end of our first song without realizing it.
I am still registering this fact when I feel another, more persistent tap, along with the words, "Mind if I cut in?"
I don't have to turn around to see who it is.