003. Watch the Sunset From a Mountaintop
"When am I gonna see you next?" Peeta asks as he shoves another cardboard box into Annie's trunk, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead.
Katniss props her hands on her hips, her chest heaving from all the exertion. Since when did she have all this goddamn stuff? She's just going back to college for her senior year – granted, her and Annie had to move apartments after some sort of electrical wiring issue ran her and Annie out of Pittsburgh and back to Panem for the summer, which entailed the transportation of a few more things than originally planned – but she hadn't anticipated packing enough cargo to single-handedly sink a battleship.
"Oh, I don't know," she coos, her voice mischievously thick. "Probably next summer, when I'm all done and graduated."
He chuckles. "That's it. I'm moving up there with you."
She aligns her toes directly with his, splaying a hand across his chest playfully. "Now, don't say such things, Mellark. I don't know what the city of Panem would do without your precious cheese buns. Children would cry. Riots would ensue. A SWAT team would be mobilized. The President would declare a State of Emergency."
"Alright, alright. You put up a convincing argument, Ms. Everdeen." But he doesn't concede without a light kiss to her lips; his mouth is salty with sweat, but the taste of honey and something so signature to Peeta still dances on her tongue. She's reluctant to pull away. But as Annie and Finn stand nearby with wicked, teasing looks glossed over both their faces, she understands that a full-on Notebook-inspired make out session would probably be more trouble than it's worth.
When she pulls back, her cheeks flushed from the brutal, dry August heat and the kiss, she firmly pats his chest. "That's what I'm in college for."
"For kissing?"
"For learning how to put up a convincing argument," she giggles. "If I was there to learn how to kiss, I think you would've kidnapped me and confined me to a dark cellar years ago."
He pulls her into his side, kissing the top of her head with a soft chuckle. "That's not entirely untrue."
"Glad to know I have a completely possessive, overbearing boyfriend." Her eyes are glimmering with wayward mischief.
"One who is willing to starve Panem of their cheese buns just to shack up with you in Pittsburgh for a year because he loves you that much."
She shivers. Even though he's been saying it for months, the L word still lets loose a thousand hyperactive butterflies in her belly.
When he kisses her temple, the light-heartedness of their conversation suddenly weighs a hundred pounds, crushing her every bone under its weight. Jesus, she'll miss this boy. Spending the entire summer with him, lying with laced fingers on the weathering planks of the treehouse, dancing together in the rain, spending every single night curled up under his sheets with wandering hands tracing imaginary patterns all over each other's skin, with sloppy kisses heralding all kinds of touches... She'd gotten to know his body like the back of her hand, which she knew went reciprocated. By the time August rolled around, he'd memorized every inch of her, knowing just how to use his fingers, his tongue, and especially his own body to deliver her to that otherworldly summit.
She's grown so used to that calm, post-sex bliss – coupled with the warmth of his arms around her – serving as her lullaby for the night. She doesn't know how she'll sleep without it, in a strange bed she doesn't know, in a city that swallows people whole if they let it.
"Ready to go, Katniss?"
The sound of Annie's voice shatters the fragile walls of Katniss's reverie, and she blinks herself back to reality. Now that the car's all packed up, there's nothing to keep them here.
"Yeah," she calls back, worming herself from Peeta's grasp so she can stand in front of him. Her eyes travel up to his, which are focused on her, gazing with fat pupils and glimmering blue rings as if he's staring at the most beautiful creature on the planet.
She tugs on the end of her shirt. "I'll Skype you when I don't have an army of boxes waiting to be unpacked."
His smile is soft, acquiescent; he lifts a hand to cup her jaw, gently brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. God, she loves the way he touches her, like she's made of crystal glass.
"Sounds wonderful, love," he murmurs, grazing his lips over her forehead.
"You know, this goodbye doesn't get any easier each year."
"Good thing it's the last year."
She nods briskly, not wanting to address the prospect of staying in Pittsburgh after she graduates. Or going to Philadelphia. Or elsewhere. She'll go where she can find a job, because refusing employment is not an option for someone who was raised to work hard for what she has.
As Finnick and Annie embrace over on the sidewalk, Peeta takes Katniss into his arms, one arm crooked around her thin waist and the other holding her face to his collar.
"My little baby's all grown up and off to her last year of college," he mock-sobs. "I could just die."
"Thanks, Mom." Regardless of the sarcasm oozing from her words, her fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt, holding him against her.
"Now, don't party too hard. Drink safely. Brush your teeth. Use condoms."
She snorts. And with an abrupt surge of bravado, she stands on her tip-toes, her lips barely grazing the shell of his ear as she whispers coquettishly, "I could use my mouth instead."
He stiffens against her, his breath audibly hitching somewhere in his throat.
"You will be the death of me, Katniss Everdeen."
"My sole purpose in life, ladies and gents."
He kisses her chastely on the cheek. "Make sure you save some of those condoms – or that other technique – for me, yeah?"
"All for you." Her mouth slants affectionately under his, trapping his bottom lip between hers as she nips it. "Always for you."
His lips mold more gently into hers, holding her there for several seconds before he draws back. "I'll miss you." Kiss.
"I know." Kiss.
"I love you." Kiss.
"I know."
Glare.
"Alright, I guess I love you, too."
"Better," he whispers, kissing her one final time before finally withdrawing his hands and grinning so lovingly down at his girl. "Go kill 'em, tiger. I'll always be one Skype call or quick text away."
He always is. Regardless of how stressful or bleak each day may be, Katniss manages to plow through it with the solace that anticipation brings, because at the end of the evening – 9:45 P.M, to be exact – Peeta is consistently at his computer monitor, prepped for what is always intended to be a fifteen-minute session to recap the day's events, but turns into an hour-long exchange every time.
It's hard not seeing him every day, but they've done this for three years before, so she'll be damned if they can't get through one more year of it.
Over winter break, she comes to stay with the Mellarks once again, and the generosity and kindness extended by both Peeta's father and Hans doesn't go unnoticed. As she sits at the dinner table with them one night, playing a vicious game of Apples to Apples, the gravity of it all slams into her like an avalanche.
That night, after Peeta's undressed them both and laid her underneath his blankets, cradling her against his chest, she whispers to the warm skin of his neck, "I'm really welcome here, aren't I?"
His fingertips dance entire ballets over her back, glazing tingling, white-hot stripes across her spine and shoulders. "You've always been welcome, love," he promises, kissing her forehead and pulling her even closer to him. His skin feels like silk, and she aches to feel it against every open inch of her.
"Yes, but… I don't know. Your dad and brother make me feel like I'm, uh… like I'm part of the family."
"Virtually, you are," he says with a chuckle. "What do I make you feel like?"
"Hmm?"
"You said that Hans and Dad make you feel like family. What about me?"
She reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck, her breasts flattening against his chest as she curls flush up against his body. Something of a moan coils in the back of his throat at the feel of her against him, and the sound sends fronds of warmth swirling through her belly. She hopes the effect she has on him will never wear off.
"You know how you make me feel, Peeta."
His hand glides up and down her back once more before skating up her neck, cupping her jaw against his palm and angling her face upward to receive a soft kiss.
"I want you to tell me."
When his mouth gently claims hers again, she wonders if he can taste the smile on her lips.
"You make me feel like I'm home."
Before she can even grasp how little time is left until she's thrust into the real world outside of college, winter melts into spring, and March and April suddenly dwindle, leaving her last finals week ever staring her straight in the face.
Each week has left her fewer and fewer opportunities to unwind, and so by the time May swings into the picture, she feels like a rubber band that's being wrenched to its limit in two separate directions. It doesn't help that Peeta's missed their nightly Skype session for three days in a row; he's barely even been available to text, and when he does respond, the messages are always so curt and cryptic.
She worries about him, about them, but he hasn't yet revoked his promise to attend her graduation ceremony that's lurking just around the corner, so she figures he can't avoid her forever. Instead of stressing herself straight into a mental and emotional coma, she decides that whatever needs to be worked out will have to wait until she sees him in person.
Still, it's unnerving. On the Saturday night before finals week, after she's spent five hours on a stupid research paper that's eaten up all her spare time for the past ten days, she decides to take a little time-out and wanders through the living room and the glass doors that lead out onto the balcony.
Her and Annie's new apartment is leaps and bounds better than the last one – no Pepto-Bismol pink walls for anyone – but Katniss would have to say her favorite part is the balcony. Situated five stories up, it's far enough away from the ground that the traffic and street life below doesn't interfere with whatever sort of serenity she's pursuing, but it's not so high that she gets dizzy. They've got two lawn chairs propped up, looking out over the railing, and Katniss collapses in one, her gaze panning out over the city before her.
Five or ten minutes must pass before the sound of the screen door sliding behind her jolts her into consciousness, and she turns to find Annie slipping out into the open air.
"Taking a study break, too?" Annie asks as she lowers herself into the empty chair.
She can only nod.
Annie stretches. "Even though I've been doing this for four years, it still surprises me how willing I am to throw away a perfectly wonderful Saturday night to study."
"Speak for yourself," Katniss laughs half-heartedly, unable to muster anything completely genuine through the wall of tension that's penned her in for the past week. "This isn't a far cry from my typical plans."
She notices for a few moments that Annie is absolutely silent at her side; she eventually tears her eyes from the cityscape to focus on her friend, startled to find that Annie's already staring at her.
"Katniss, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she responds with a small shrug. "Just stressed, that's all."
"You've seemed especially tense this past week or so."
A mild breeze wafts across the balcony, tickling the soft, loose hairs at the base of Katniss's neck, the ones that've fallen out of her sloppy braid. "Graduation just seems so scary." She leans back. "And… I mean, thinking about everything after isn't so pleasant, either. It's just so scary to consider how unstable things could be in a year compared to now."
"At least you have a job lined up," Annie tosses back, her tone light with optimism.
"A job interview," Katniss corrects. "Not an actual job."
"But the position's as good as yours, Katniss. You'd be perfect for it."
But I don't know if it's perfect for me, she almost says, but she doesn't want to delve into that right now. After graduation, she's managed to snag an interview as a biological science technician for one of Pennsylvania's state parks. On the outside, it seems like an ideal fit for her, as it would involve plenty of work in a lab or in the actual parks. The pay isn't spectacular, but the trade would entail all sorts of tasks that'd never fail to fascinate her.
The problem lies in the fact that the state park and her office would be forty five minutes away from Panem. It isn't too far, but Katniss doesn't have a car, and whatever money she's made and will make immediately after landing the position would need to go toward rent and food. So, unless someone in Panem happens to work the same shifts at the same place as her, she'd have to move out there.
It wouldn't be the end of the world. She'd still be able to spend plenty of time in the town, if she could get rides. But the fact that she hasn't even been able to tell Peeta about the interview because of his sudden truancy is what really unnerves her.
Would he want this for her?
Annie seems to pick up on the hesitation that Katniss's silence speaks for, shifting in her chair to lean closer to her friend.
"Please, tell me what's going on. You've been shutting yourself in all week."
The heels of Katniss's palms dig into her hairline as she squeezes her eyes shut. She didn't want to drag Annie into this, because Annie's already got enough on her plate without Katniss's ridiculous problems weighing her down. But she doesn't know how much longer it can be avoided.
She restlessly plays with the ends of her cardigan's sleeves.
"Peeta's been ignoring me."
When she looks up to Annie, she's smiling sadly at her. "Oh, Katniss… don't stress yourself out over him. That boy's absolutely crazy about you. He's been crazy about you since before I even met him."
Although her friend's words tug at the corners of Katniss's lips, the weight of it all still doesn't lift off her shoulders.
"I must've said something, or done something, but I don't know what. We Skype every night—"
"At 9:45. I know, I know—"
"—but he hasn't been available for three nights in a row. And he's hardly been texting me."
Annie stretches across the gap between them, resting her fingertips on the back of Katniss's hand reassuringly. "It's graduation season in Panem, too, you know. He's probably just bogged down with all kinds of orders at the bakery." Katniss opens her mouth to protest, but Annie pipes in before a word can leave her mouth. "Look, don't stress out about him. You'll see him next weekend for graduation. And if, for some god-forsaken reason, he doesn't show up to that, you're coming home with me after the ceremony, and I will personally walk into that bakery with you to bitch-slap the fuck out of him until he gives you a straight answer. Sound good?"
Katniss's smile is a little brighter this time as she shakes her head. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"And a loyal friend." Annie leans back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest as she gazes out. "But, I don't expect I'll ever have to do something like that for you. Katniss, that boy would rather cannonball into a sea of rusty nails than give you up."
"Nice imagery," she drawls sarcastically.
"No, I'm serious. You two have sort of become the gold standard for the ideal relationship. Whenever I'm trying to tell Finn I love him, he always asks me how much, and unless I say as much as Peeta loves Katniss, he doesn't let up."
"You're kidding me."
"I wish I was."
Katniss doesn't know whether to be amused or absolutely mortified; she'd have an easier time pretending Annie was lying, if only she wasn't dating Finnick. That totally sounded like something he'd say.
"Look, Katniss." Annie leans forward again. "Instead of worrying yourself sick over why Peeta's been AWOL for the past few days, just think about how big of a hug you're going to get after he sees you walk across that stage to get your diploma."
The image makes a tiny bud of heat unfurl in her chest. "Yeah."
"And how great the dinner that he'll make you will be – or take you out to, but Peeta seems more like the type of guy who'd wine and dine you with his own food since he's obviously a pretty brilliant cook—"
"I get the picture." Katniss smiles softly. "Thanks, Annie."
"What I'm trying to say is, you're graduating, Katniss. You should be excited, instead of worrying about a petty conflict that probably isn't even a conflict, just something you're reading too far into."
In response, Katniss gives her a small nod, but the uneasiness in her stomach hasn't completely subsided. She wants to be thrilled about her upcoming graduation, really, but the whole idea of this dark, threatening abyss that currently sits where her future's supposed to be is what weighs her down.
She wants this job, she thinks, but only if it won't take her away from Peeta. She wanted to be able to talk this over with him, to gage his reaction, and make sure that that's what he wanted, too.
He still wants her after graduation, right?
Does he even want a future with her?
She's twenty-two now, and although that's still so young, she's about to take a step into actual adulthood, and not knowing exactly where that'll leave her in regards to Peeta absolutely frightens her. She's always been a fan of planning. Of structure. Of knowing exactly what direction she's supposed to take.
But she can't decide all that without Peeta's input. She can't decide whether she should take this job, and potentially live forty-five minutes away from him as long as she keeps her position. She can't decide whether she should find a different job in the city, one that pays better, and put off their relationship until later… if he's willing to wait.
And she sure as hell can't decide if they should take the next step, whatever that may be. There are few things in this life she's absolutely certain of, but her love for Peeta is definitely one of them. She knows she wants to be with him as long as he'll have her.
Does this mean she might move in with him? If she can somehow find transportation to work, will Peeta want to get an apartment with her? Or will she be able to stay with him and the Mellarks at the bakery, using her extra money to buy a car?
Or will he not want that? Their relationship ran so smoothly when their residences were separate… what if that's what he wants?
The uncertainty leaves a searing heat bubbling under her skin, her stomach flipping uncomfortably. Without even so much as a word, she leaves Annie on the balcony and shuts herself in her room, flopping onto the creaky mattress and burying her head in the pillow.
She's not sure why she's at this ceremony, considering she knows a handful of other students that've decided not to attend. Campus is packed with annoyingly ignorant flocks of the graduates' friends and family, and if Peeta is here, seeking him out would be like searching for a dandelion in a sea of sunflowers.
It's a furnace outside, Katniss is cranky, and she just wants to go home.
The ceremony passes unbelievably slowly. Despite how well-written the speeches are and how unexpectedly good the turnout is, all she can focus on is how hungry she is and how bad of a decision it was to wear new heels. (Or heels at all, because although she may be one of the most graceful creatures in her hunting boots, the moment she steps into any form of levitated shoe, she becomes as clumsy of a walker as a drunken elephant, or even worse, Peeta.)
Her grouchiness isn't helped by the fact that she hasn't received much contact from him since her little meltdown last Saturday night. He was able to Skype her once this past week, but even then he didn't stay on the line for long. She was relieved to find him smiling at her, but he looked so tired, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was her fault he was so drained. Does talking to her really exhaust him that much?
On Wednesday night, the evening before her last final, the angst reached such a high pinnacle that it actually drove her to call Hans out of desperation.
"Katniss?" He'd sounded appalled when she announced herself on the phone. "Is everything okay?"
"Hans, I need to know if you've talked to Peeta."
A brief silence ensued, although what was brief objectively didn't seem brief to her, and in those few seconds she almost worked herself into cardiac arrest because he must know something she doesn't if he's taking so long to answer her damn question, it's not even that hard of a question to answer, it's a simple 'yes' or 'no' type—
"I mean, I've called him a few times, but I won't be seeing him 'til I come back to Panem on Friday…"
Why does Peeta have this time to call his brother, but not his girlfriend, whose mental stability is rapidly deteriorating? "Is he okay? He's been a little, uh… well, he hasn't been talking to me much."
Again, Hans allowed a little pause to hang over the line, but before Katniss could panic again, he cleared his throat. "He's coming to your graduation, isn't he? You'll be able to talk to him then." And then, more softly: "He's really looking forward to seeing you, Katniss."
Her throat felt thick. "Hans, I just… I don't know. I really miss talking to him."
"From what I hear, the bakery's been pretty busy and it's all wearing him out. Don't worry, Katniss. My little brother doesn't tell me everything in his life – he's got you for that – but if there's one thing I know about him, it's that he's absolutely head-over-heels for you."
The tension yanking at her chest began to dull, an actual breath finally filling her thirsty lungs. "Thank you, Hans."
"You know I love you like you were my little sister, Kat, which is why I'm asking this of you. Please, please don't ever doubt how my brother feels about you."
She nodded, even though he couldn't see it. Peeta deserved better than the product of her insecurity. He deserved her trust. And she'd give that to him.
But when she Skyped him the following day, celebrating the conclusion of her last final, his demeanor left that doubt to re-root itself in her core.
The latent frustration from this past week, which came from what hadn't been purged by the conclusion of her classes, seems to cling to her as she sits in this impossibly uncomfortable folding chair, waiting for this ceremony to be over.
It takes longer than the Hundred Years War to end, but when it finally does, she pulls out her phone to find a text with an attached picture.
Peeta: Marco?
The picture was of the building she had her chemistry classes in; she immediately sets off in that direction, hoping Peeta will be there. When she rounds the corner, her heart swells at the sight of him standing against the railing of the staircase, staring at his shoes. He's in the grey suit she loves so much, his curls slicked nicely out of his forehead.
If she wasn't feeling so goddamn insecure in their relationship, she'd acknowledge the sudden urge to get him out of those clothes. Hell, she hasn't been with him like that since spring break. Two months is too long.
He doesn't seem to hear her approach, only turning to look at her once she's swept two fingers over his shoulder.
"Polo," she greets with a shy smile, her heart pounding against her ribs.
She doesn't know what she expects from him, but it isn't the exuberant grin that breaks out over his features as he drinks her in, and it certainly isn't the bone-crushing hug he gives, his warm breath fanning over her neck.
She'd anticipated a lot of things, but him acting as if nothing was wrong was never one of them.
"My little graduate," he murmurs, his voice tickling her skin. "I hope you know how proud of you I am."
Every electrified nerve ending in her body screams at her to acquiesce, to be grateful of his kindness instead of suspicious, but all that pent-up tension doesn't just evaporate. Before she can control it, it's channeling itself through her throat.
"Why have you been ignoring me, Peeta?"
It comes out much sharper than she would've guessed; his body stiffens at her question, and he lets her go, pulling back. His jaw is hard, but his blue eyes are swimming with multifaceted apology, self-deprecation scrawled all over his fallen features.
"Katniss, I… I'm sorry. I never meant to."
Although she acknowledges that she apparently has the willpower of cotton ball, she couldn't care. The sincerity lacing both his tone and his expression is unquestionable, stripping her of all her weapons; all she can do is forgive him.
He reaches out for her again, much more slowly than before, but she accepts his embrace all the same, nuzzling the crook of his neck with her nose.
"It's okay," she tells him quietly, because it is. Both Annie and Hans were right… she never should've doubted how he felt about her.
He sighs, his breath weaving through her hair. "It's not. I've had so much going on these past two weeks, but I shouldn't have let it get in the way."
"Talk to me, Peeta," she pleads, pulling away so she can bracket his jaw with her hands. His skin is impossibly soft; he must've just shaved this morning. "What's been going on?"
He bites his lip, shaking his head. "Mostly bakery stuff, but I, uh… I had something else taking up my time that I didn't really want to tell you about until after you graduated."
His wording wrings her stomach like a washcloth. "What are you talking about, Peeta?" she wheezes, concern trickling in her veins.
He pulls back a little so he can reach into his suit jacket, pulling out a white envelope.
"It took a lot of phone calls with my dad and brother—"
"Peeta?"
"—and your mother—"
"My mother?"
"—and some random services, but I think I've finally gotten everything organized."
Dizzy with confusion and this goddamn heat, she takes the envelope that he appears to be offering her, leaving a dusting of fingerprints from her sweaty palms.
"Peeta, what is this?" she asks, ripping the seal with shaky hands.
She startles when his fingers slide over her wrist, allaying her trembling as he helps her tear the paper. Once it's opened, she pulls out the document that's pleated inside, carefully unfolding it.
Her brows crinkle as she tries to decipher the text.
"This is… some sort of receipt?"
"It's your graduation present," he says quietly.
She squints harder at the fine print, at the numbers and the letters. There's something about a hotel, about a suite, about… "Peeta, what is this?"
Before she can tangle herself in confusion even more hopelessly, she feels his finger crook under her chin, tilting it up so he can look her in the eye. All she sees is sunlight glimmering off his gold lashes, the coy smile on his lips burning brilliantly in the blue that swathes her in its intensity.
"We're going on a road trip, love."
The breath in her lungs stills.
"What?"
With his index, he underlines the name of the hotel at the top of the paper in her hands. "I've talked to my father and your mother, both of whom have given us permission to pull a Bonnie and Clyde and jump town."
The all-encompassing shock that'd momentarily stopped her heart suddenly shifts to thrilling disbelief, her jaw popping open. "You didn't."
"And Hans has given me his blessing to use his baby, Zoey."
Katniss coughs. "Zoey?"
"His car," Peeta chuckles, gently prying the paper from her motionless hands to tuck back into his pocket. "I mean, Colorado is a solid twenty-four hour drive, but you can sleep most of the way, if you want."
Holy fuck. Colorado.
Katniss feels like gravity has suddenly become inapplicable.
"Peeta…"
Hearing his name, Peeta stills, his features sober. "I mean, if this isn't what you want to do, I can always cancel the hotel reservations. I'm not trying to shanghai you and force a vacation down your throat. If you want to stay home and—"
Her fingers on his cheek silence him, his eyes refocusing on hers just in time to grow wide in surprise as she extends on her tip-toes to capture his mouth with hers. He's rigid in shock at first, but he thaws quickly, one hand finding purchase on her hip as the other slips over her jaw to tilt her face upward, improving the angle. She shudders as she feels his tongue gently stroke the seam of her lips, and she acquiesces to the gesture, letting his tongue seek hers. The low groan that ripples in the back of his throat sets her body alight.
How could she have ever doubted him? This whole time, when she thought he was avoiding her, he was planning a romantic getaway, like in those shitty Lifetime movies Annie adores.
God, if her life were a movie... She cringes at the thought of how much secondhand embarrassment she'd be giving all her viewers. Her incredibly kind, selfless, devoted boyfriend goes to the ends of this earth to surprise her, and the entire time, she thinks he's trying to cut her off.
"I don't know how to thank you," she pants against his lips, wrapping herself around him like a koala on a tree.
He chuckles. "This works."
"You got me a vacation."
"I got us a vacation."
She pulls back, her eyes stinging. Since when is Katniss Everdeen a happy crier? Holy hell, she's becoming more and more like a Lifetime movie character every passing minute.
"I don't know what we're going to do," she puffs, her voice airy.
"Whatever you want. We could watch movies all day, go skiing, order enough pizzas to feed the state of Texas…"
"I still feel like a child, Peeta. I'm not emotionally prepared to have a grown-up retreat."
He laughs at her deer-in-the-headlights expression, kissing her cheek. "Well, that's okay, because you've got a solid twenty-four hours in the car ahead of you to emotionally prepare yourself."
She wheezes. "I think I'm going to pass out."
"I've got some water in the car." Grinning, he takes her small hand in his. "Let's get this show on the road, Bonnie."
"Up, up, up!" Katniss bellows as she jumps up and down on the mattress, careful not to accidentally squash Peeta' sleeping form as he lays on his stomach, arms cradling the pillow at her feet.
Whatever comes from Peeta's lips sounds more like an animalistic grunt than actual English.
"Peeta, this was your idea, and you are going to be awake for it."
He flips onto his back, a defiant golden curl falling over his forehead as he rubs his face in exhaustion. "Just five more minutes."
"You said that five minutes ago. And five minutes before that."
"If you drive for twenty-four straight hours someday, Katniss, you'll understand my pain."
They arrived at the hotel at four in the afternoon, after driving for what felt like centuries through seven different states (is Nebraska anything but a sea of grass and cows?) and finally through the Rockies, parking at the base of one of the mountains where a ski lift hauled them and their belongings up to the peak where their hotel sat.
It was all too glamorous for Katniss, her face red with embarrassment as she realized exactly how much money he must be spending on her, but he said he'd been working longer shifts at the bakery for the past month just to save up for it.
Once they reached their room, an lavishly ornate suite with a bed the size of fucking China, they shoved their belongings in a closet and flopped down on the mattress. God, it felt like a fucking cloud. Peeta was absolutely exhausted, impatient to get out of the grey suit he'd been wearing since they skipped town.
So, eagerly, she'd helped him with that, deciding that the best way to christen the room would be to use her mouth on him. He'd grown hard in her fingers the moment she unbuckled his belt and pulled the slacks down his legs, and once she replaced her fingers with her lips, he'd taken very little time to unravel beneath her.
"Let me reimburse you," he'd slurred after she'd crawled up the bed, her fingers gently plucking apart the buttons of his dress shirt. He'd tried to pull at her dress, but his movements were languid, and she silenced him with a soft kiss to his lips as she removed the rest of his clothes from his exhausted form.
"Later," she'd told him, her mouth grazing his ear. "You should get some sleep."
He'd tried to object, but his protests were cut short when he almost immediately dozed off in her arms.
She'd dawdled for a while, hanging up their clothes in the closet and arranging their toiletries in the bathroom as her boyfriend lay strewn across the sheets, naked and completely unconscious. On more than one occasion, she took a brief few seconds to admire how beautiful he was. (And how fantastic of a butt he had. My goodness.)
But once everything was put away and she'd changed into a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt of his, she decided to leave him be for a short while. He told her in the car that he wanted to watch the sunset from the top of the mountain; she found this the perfect opportunity to scout the perfect spot for this.
The hotel wasn't on the very peak, instead buried somewhere in the pine trees that freckled the steep slope. There was a trail winding through the wood that took her up past the fringe where no more trees grew, where the air was significantly colder but the world felt silent and so wide, stretching thousands and thousands of miles under her vigilant gaze. A small divot just fifty feet or so from where the path tapered off at the edge of tree line seemed like the perfect place to watch the sunset, as it was on the west side of the mountain; all they needed was a blanket, and maybe a little champagne.
She'd decided not to stay up at the top for too long – she'd have plenty of time to drink in the grandeur of it all later, with Peeta, of course – and trekked back to the hotel, locating a vending machine to grab something to eat.
Now, after an hour of absentmindedly watching CNN and binging on pretzels, she's decided that it's time to wake Peeta from his nap so they can get ready for the evening.
After jumping on the mattress every five minutes for fifteen minutes, enough to give a normal person motion sickness, Katniss finally hops onto the floor and grabs Peeta by the toes.
"I'll pull you off this goddamn bed if you don't get up."
That's all it takes for him to unleash an exasperated groan and lazily prop himself up on his elbows.
"So demanding." And then: "Remind me why I'm not wearing clothes."
She struts to the closet to snag a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans for him, tossing them in his direction. "Because any good girlfriend wouldn't let her boyfriend sleep in a suit, silly rabbit."
After he slides into a pair of boxers, he grabs her by the wrist and twirls her against his body, pressing a chaste kiss to her head.
"Always so considerate," he murmurs, his fingers lightly dancing up her side, making her squirm as he nestles his nose against her shoulder.
After he's dressed, and she's grabbed a wool duvet to lay out beneath them and a jacket for when it cools off, they head out toward the mountaintop. He must still be exhausted from the long car ride, because he's slow as he stumbles along the path behind her; she hovers back and takes his hand in hers, trying to match his pace.
Once the trees begin to dilute and the air tastes even thinner, the sky is just beginning to darken, so she hurries ahead to lay out the blanket. He joins her moments later, slightly out of breath but smiling wide as ever, curling up with her on the duvet as their gazes pan out over the horizon.
"I don't think I've ever seen any place that's more beautiful," he murmurs, his arm coiling around her back, coaxing her to lay her cheek against his shoulder.
He was right; the mountains seem to stretch for miles, peppering the earth with magnificent crests and valleys; some of the other peaks are dusted with white, while a few of the gorges around them are freckled with lights from small towns or quarries. The sky's just beginning to blush gold as a prelude to the imminent sundown, warm hues dancing all over their skin as they cuddle on the blanket.
A delicate breeze kissing her skin, she cranes her neck to look up at him, his glorious jaw flexing as he gazes at the world around them in wonder. But then he turns to look at her, his eyes gentle in their reverence, filled with a thousand different emotions. He leans down to claim her lips in a velvet-soft kiss.
With his fingers splayed over her neck, he tilts his forehead against hers and whispers, "Thank you so much, Katniss. For doing this with me. For doing everything with me."
She smiles, nuzzling his nose with hers. "It's my pleasure." And then, more softly: "But you never told me why."
"Hm?" His chin angles to the sunset, his gaze admiring the gold streaked across the horizon as it turns into that pastel orange she knows he loves so much.
"You never told me why you did this for me. You went to such great lengths to plan this trip, but… why here? Why now?"
She doesn't miss the way his jaw clenches almost imperceptibly, his eyes steeling just enough to make her chest throb.
"It's the next thing on my bucket list," he tells her, but something in his voice has changed. "To watch the sunset from a mountain top. It's number three."
Desperate to understand what in his demeanor has changed so suddenly, she looks him over, noticing how he's… stiffened.
"Peeta, are you okay?"
She expects a yes, or at least something in the affirmative, but instead all he gives her is silence, and it makes her feel nauseous.
Something's going on. Something he hasn't told her.
"Peeta—"
"I'm starting chemotherapy next week."
His admission is sudden, each word unyielding as steel, his eyes shimmering as they lock themselves on the horizon line. He's not looking at her. He won't look at her.
She tries to swallow, but her throat feels like it's made of ash and rotting wood.
"Chemotherapy?"
The word tastes like curdled milk on her tongue.
He swallows hard, as if he's trying to hold back tears, his gaze falling despondently to his feet.
"It's back, Katniss."
Her stomach feels like it's been dropped off the top of the Eiffel tower and hoven into a paper shredder, both at the same time. She swallows, trying not to vomit.
He doesn't have to say what it is for her to know. Of course it's back. She must've known it all along, in her bones, deep down where she could pretend she was oblivious. It's why he'd abruptly shut himself in weeks ago. Why he's looked so tired. Why he is so tired. Why he's being so impulsive, whisking her away on some grandiose vacation that he must've broken his bank to pay for.
There are a million things she wants to ask him, but her tongue feels like iron, and all she manages to spit out is a weak, "How long have you known?"
"Two weeks."
There's no need for him to say that it's more serious this time. His silence is enough to make that clear.
He looks to her suddenly, and she doesn't realize it's because she's trembling until he cups her cheek with his hand, his eyes finally locking with hers. "Katniss—"
Katniss has been afraid many times in her life, like when Prim came home two hours late one night, like when she thought Peeta might have cancer again… but none of that compares to this. The crippling fear that shoots from every synapse in her body and oozes like tar in her veins is unparalleled, making her feel dizzy and broken.
"I can't lose you," she whispers, her voice shaking. "I can't."
He kisses her, but her entire body is numb; she can hardly bring herself to receive it.
When he pulls back, he brushes her cheek with his thumb, swiping a tear from her skin, one she hadn't even realized was there.
"It'll be okay, Katniss."
"Stop."
He draws in an impossibly long, labored sigh, his own breath trembling as he squeezes his eyes shut. "I wanted to take you out here and share this night with you, because I don't know how much left on the bucket list I'll be able to do—"
"Don't say that. You can finish it. I'll help you finish it."
When he looks up at her, his smile is apologetic, which wrenches her heart in a million directions. His golden lashes catch the moisture welling up behind his lids and he presses his forehead harder against hers.
"Katniss, the next thing is too big. You've done too much for me already."
I could never do enough for you, she wants to say, but she bites her tongue. "Please, Peeta."
"I can't make you do this," he murmurs, each word swollen with regret.
His palms are so warm on her cheeks, his touch the only thing drawing her out of this suffocating pit of terror that otherwise tugs her away. She needs him. He's been her best friend through every high and low point of her life, her only constant when all else was chaotic and volatile; she's always needed him, but more now than ever before. Not only is he her best friend, but her lover, too; he was her first, and her only, the single soul she's ever encountered – apart from Prim and her father – that proved to her love was real, love is real.
She can't let him leave her.
"I'll do anything for you," she promises, bracketing his jaw with her hands to grab his attention; once his blue has locked with her grey, she nods almost imperceptibly. "You're my best friend, Peeta. You're…" She can hardly force a single syllable out of her aching throat, but she must. "You're my everything."
A tear slithers from the corner of his eye, and the look he pins her with asks, Are you sure?
She nods in confident avowal. Of course.
With her permission, he lowers his trembling hands from her cheeks and draws back, coming to kneel in front of her as he shakily fishes through his pocket.
Each breath has been grueling since he told her that he was sick, but when he holds out a tiny black velvet box before her, her final breath becomes impossible.
Oh, shit.
Shyly, but with unquestionable sincerity, he asks her the question she never thought she'd receive.
"Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?"
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