Part Two
Chapter Three
Peeta's alive. He is. I knew he was good at baking and I knew that he found some peace in it, even while working at his family's place. But today his creativity has been unleashed and he's alive with just the possibility of it all. I don't know if it's the baking, the fact that no one out here knows the name 'Mellark' or something else entirely, but he hasn't stopped talking the whole afternoon. Recipes. Endless recipes.
"Katniss, this is incredible. I feel incredible! I can't wait to get in the kitchen and show them what I can do. And that donut was insane. I wonder what flour blend they're using." He's looking out the window, his eyes not really focusing on anything in particular. I love him.
"You're so happy."
His head snaps in my direction and his smile reaches every inch of his skin. Who is this guy? I love him.
We spend a good amount of the day driving around, familiarizing Peeta with the Pioneer Valley. He checks out all of the grocery stores (sigh) and drives past the clinic where he'll go three times a week for PT.
"What kinds of things do you do in physical therapy?" Peeta and I haven't talked much about the accident or his injury. It seems to be a touchy subject, but it's a part of the recovery process and I want to help as much as I can. "Could I go sometime?"
"Nah, it's not a big deal. And I'll be done with it sooner than later."
"Oh yeah? Do you know how long before you're free?"
"Not long."
"Are there things I can help with, like exercises at home?"
"I said it wasn't a big deal. You can drop it. Really."
I bite my bottom lip in frustration but don't say a word. On the one hand I can't push him for information. On the other, how can I help if he won't let me in? Patience, Katniss. I keep telling myself that, reminding myself that I wasn't there and he doesn't owe me anything.
Peeta breaks me out of my thoughts. "Hey, how about I make us dinner? I feel like salmon. Sound okay to you?"
"Uh, yeah. Definitely. After I digest all of that sugar though. How can you even think of food after all of those carbs?"
"More like how can I not?"
We pull into the driveway and walk to the house, Peeta leading the way. He's about to unlock the door but pulls me in for a hug. He murmurs into my ear, thanking me for nothing in particular. All of these 'thank yous' are completely unnecessary. After all, it was me who let him down. I hate myself for it. I want him to hate me for it, too.
…
Peeta,
I don't know how to help you. I don't know where to touch. I don't know where the line has been drawn. Show me.
But I know that I love you.
Katniss
…
We go to bed separately.
I wake up to Peeta curling up against my back and placing his hand over my stomach. He exhales and it is quiet.
…
For all of the years that Peeta and I dated, we spent very little time talking about life before 'us.' Maybe that's because our relationship started at such a young age, or maybe that's because we just didn't want to burden the other with past wrongs. Perhaps it's a little bit of both?
Don't get me wrong: we knew more than the basics. He knew about my dad's death and my mom's subsequent depression. Peeta got the gist of it and could put two and two together when he saw my mom and I interact. But I never sat down with him and explained just what happened and the impact it had on the Everdeens.
Likewise I knew about Peeta's fucked up relationship with his mother, if you could even call it that. He never once talked about it, but having spent as much time together as we did I witnessed the indifference, belittling, sarcasm and yes, occasional shove. I tried to find every excuse for him not to be alone with her but never once tried to talk to him about it. I didn't want to embarrass him; I figured if he wanted to really talk about it, he would.
I should have tried harder. I should have gotten in her face and told her exactly what a cowardly bitch she was.
But was I really any different?
I look over at the sleeping form next to me and my eyes follow the gentle sweep of his nose, the soft indentations under his eyes, faint creases near his forehead and soft lips. Peeta isn't perfect, but no one deserves to be made to feel like that. No one should have to go through a childhood like that.
I'm not under the impression that whatever lies in front of us will be perfect, but I vow to never give him reason to doubt me again.
"Peeta," I whisper, lightly stroking his cheek.
He softly moans and opens his eyes. They're confused and questioning.
"I just want you to know that I love you."
He looks at me for a long while before closing his eyes, his arms secure around my waist.
…
Baker's hours. They're a bitch. Peeta is up long gone before I even begin my day. I taped a note on his steering wheel hoping that the sentiment gets his day off to a good start. I'm sure he's as nervous as he is excited to start at Henion, but I know he's also happy to get back to a routine. Peeta plans on stopping by Esselon after his shift and before his PT appointment in the afternoon.
He's not the only one who is excited to get to work today. I actually miss my coworkers—friends—and look forward to catching up with them. I anticipate getting bombarded with questions, but for once I'm fine with it. I have nothing to hide. We have nothing to hide. I want them to know about me. Us.
I'm hanging up my coat when Johanna appears just inches away from my face. "Finn says that he's fuckable. So naturally, I need to meet him."
"It's nice to see you too, Jo. He should be coming by this afternoon." I grab my apron and head to the counter to make a drink before touching base with Thresh. He had plans for a new blend before I left and I want to know how discussions went with the Guatemalan supplier. Johanna follows me.
"All sarcasm aside, are things okay?"
"Well, yeah, I suppose things are fine. We're kind of coasting right now, trying to figure each other out again." I take a sip of coffee. Perfect espresso roast. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
"Good." Johanna grabs a mug for coffee. "So how's the sex?"
"Shhhhh! Jesus, Jo!" I look around to see if anyone heard her. The two guys playing Scrabble in the corner seem unaware, but I don't need people getting interested.
"You didn't have a make up fuck? Why the hell not?!"
"No, we did not have sex," I whisper. "He seems, well, unsure sometimes. Maybe it's about the accident and the residual scars. Or maybe it's me. It's only been a couple of days. I don't want to push him."
"Maybe he wants to be pushed."
"It's not the right time. And I need to go find Thresh." I breeze past Jo and through the back hallway but turn right and step into a supply closet. My back presses to the door and I close my eyes.
The truth is, I didn't know what Peeta wants. I know what I want and I know I have to be patient. If Peeta was going to get there, he needed to do it on his timeframe, not mine. But he seems so unsure, like he is second-guessing every move. Like he's second-guessing us. I did that to him and I don't know how to fix it.
…
"Hey," Finnick comes into the back office and flips a rag over his shoulder. "You might want to get out there. Jo's met Peeta and it's pretty steamy."
I drop my notebook and walk up front, laughing when I see her trying to show Peeta how the steam valves work. He sees me and smiles but Johanna tells him to pay attention if he has any intention of getting another coffee at Esselon.
"See? Microfoam. Congratulations, you passed. I'm outta here." Jo smacks him on the ass before punching her timecard, punching my shoulder and leaving.
Peeta feigns hurt and rubs his butt. "Was it something I said?"
"No, that's her version of 'goodbye.'" I walk over to Peeta and wrap my arms around his neck in a bear hug. He smells like bakery again, completely warm with a hint of something that's been caramelized. I lean back to look in his face. "Hi. I don't think I have to tell you how great it is to see you here."
He leans in and kisses me. "I like hearing it, so you should keep saying it." Now I kiss him and sigh with the feeling of contentment. Maybe he did just need some time. It's the least I can give him.
"So how much time do you have before PT? I want to hear about Henion!" I grab Peeta's mug and my own before making our way to a corner booth.
AN: emarina, you're a good egg. Grade A. I am going to write you a haiku now.