I'm so perfectly warm, cocooned in blankets, wrapped in strong arms as the pale light of dawn filters through the window. I'm wearing only my underclothes and my head rests on Peeta's bare chest, his heartbeat steady in my ear, my favourite sound. Our bare legs are twined together under the blankets and I can feel his cheek against my head, his even breathing making wisps of my hair flutter. I remember him saying once, on the training centre roof, that he wanted to freeze time and live in that moment forever, and I can't help thinking that this moment right now, feeling safe and protected and loved, this would be a nice moment to stay in forever. A little sigh escapes my lips.
Peeta's arms tighten around me, and his head shifts to kiss my hair, inhaling deeply before he pulls back slightly. I tip my head up and open my eyes slowly. As the world comes into focus I find myself looking into brilliant blue orbs almost glowing in the thin light of the rising sun. His gaze is so intense that my stomach flutters. I reach up and cup his face in my hand, rubbing my thumb gently over the golden stubble growing there. His eyes close as he leans into my touch, his impossibly long eyelashes brushing his cheek. We stay that way for several minutes, not talking, unmoving and silent while I admire his strong jaw, straight nose. I slide my thumb down and skirt it along his full lower lip. His eyes snap open instantly, fixing to mine again with the same intensity and my heart jumps. My hand falters and falls away. I drop my eyes as I feel tears threatening.
"I'm sorry Peeta," I start shakily, my voice hoarse with emotion and disuse.
His fingers press gently against my lips, and he murmurs "No, my love, no, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm such an ass." His eyes are downcast and he shakes his head sadly. I reach up to move his fingers from my lips; there is so much I need to say to him, so many things I should have told him long before now, but before I can say a word his lips are on mine. The kiss begins sweetly but soon deepens. There's a quiet desperation to the way he kisses me, parting my lips with his tongue, winding his hand in my hair. Fire races through my entire body, chasing away the sluggishness until my every nerve is humming. I respond eagerly, heat pooling in my belly, letting my hands roam, tentatively, over the firm expanse of his broad chest, running my fingers through the blond curls there, then up to his collarbone. "Katniss," he breathes into my mouth and I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing myself more tightly to him. He whimpers and pulls back slightly, breathing heavily, then peppering my face with kisses; my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, before pulling me into a tight embrace. I tuck my nose into the crook of his shoulder and inhale deeply, reveling in his scent, cinnamon and bread and Peeta. He trembles and his arms tighten around me. His breaths become more ragged; only then do I realize that he's crying.
"Peeta?" I whisper questioningly. He chokes out a quiet sob, murmuring into my hair "I almost lost you" over and over again. I wrap my arms more tightly around him and press my lips against his neck. "I'm here Peeta," I whisper, "I'm not going anywhere." I drift to sleep as he rocks me gently.
When I wake up again I'm alone in Peeta's big bed, and the sun is fully up. I can hear low voices just outside the room. I push myself up into a sitting position with some difficulty, my arms and legs feel weak, and my head swims from the effort. I can't help the small groan that escapes me. Immediately a blond head pokes through the door, his face breaking into a smile. "You're awake, how are you feeling?" he asks, coming around to sit beside me on the edge of the bed. Greasy Sae follows him into the room, carrying a small lidded pot that she sets on the nightstand. She stares at me a moment, like she wants to say something, but instead pats me on the hand and walks back out of the room. I listen to her descending the stairs while I look at the door, perplexed.
"Katniss?" I turn back to Peeta, he's still smiling but his brow is creased with concern. I give him a tentative half smile.
"Feeling a little rough actually," I manage. He's dressed, wearing jeans and a simple white t-shirt that emphasizes his broad shoulders and muscled arms, and I realize that I'm now wearing pajamas over my underclothes. I try to piece together how I got here. Was I lying in his arms earlier? Kissing him? Was that real? "A little confused too," I add.
He chuckles, "I don't doubt that." He reaches a gentle hand to tuck my tangled hair behind my ear, then continues, "Sae brought some broth, you need to eat, and then we can talk."
He reaches over to lift the lidded pot from the nightstand and I'm transported to our cave and another broth pot. I look at him with wide eyes and I know he's thinking the same thing. "No silver parachute this time," he smirks.
When he lifts the lid and the scent of the broth wafts out I realize that I'm ravenous. I eat most of it while he sits quietly beside me, a half smile playing on his lips.
"You brought me home?" I start. He nods, his eyes wary, as if he's not sure whether I'm upset with him. I reach for his hand and gently squeeze it. "Thank you Peeta." He smiles, a wide smile that crinkles his eyes and lights up his face, the smile he saves just for me. I can't help but smile back. So many unsaid things hang in the air between us but neither of us seems to have any idea where to start, so for a while we just sit, holding hands in companionable silence.
Finally he sighs softly. "Listen, Katniss, I owe you a huge apology." I start to shake my head, but he presses forward, "Thom told me that the Hawthornes are moving back to Twelve."
"What?" I interrupt him. "Why? When?"
He chuckles, "In a few weeks," he replies, "and as for why, well, this is their home. I take it you didn't know." I shake my head; no one had mentioned anything to me, though to be fair I don't generally seek out people to chat with. Except for Peeta that is. But why is he apologizing for the Hawthornes moving back? My confusion must be evident, because he smiles tightly and continues.
"I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but when I heard they were coming back, well, I started thinking about Gale. And then I started thinking about you and Gale, and, well, when I heard you on the phone the other day I made a pretty ridiculous mental leap into thinking that you and Gale were…" he stops here, unable or unwilling to continue.
"Were what, Peeta?" I gently prompt. I genuinely have no idea what he's thinking. It would be a lie to say that I never think about Gale, never wonder how he is, but I haven't spoken to him since the day I killed Coin and that's exactly how I want it. Part of me will always miss Gale, but I can't separate him from the bombs that killed my sister, and I don't know if I will ever be able to.
He won't meet my eyes. Finally he says softly "I keep expecting you to choose him again."
My breath catches in my chest. It all becomes clear: In all of the months we've been back, all of the time we've spent together, I've never told him how I feel. I've left him thinking that I'm just waiting for Gale to charge back into town so that we can run off into the woods together, and still Peeta's stayed. He's been everything I've needed him to be, supported me, cared for me and never once asked for anything in return, and through all of that he's believed that at any moment I might abandon him again. Pain wells up in my heart, but again I can't find the words. He's looking off towards the window as the silence stretches between us, almost palpable.
I can't take it any more; I may not be able to tell him how I feel but I can show him. I push myself up onto my knees and take his face gently in my hands, forcing him to look into my eyes. I see naked vulnerability in those beautiful blue eyes, but also longing, and that gives me the courage to continue. I lean forward and kiss him gently. When he doesn't pull back, I wind my hands through his soft curls and deepen the kiss, nipping his lower lip with my teeth, stroking his tongue with mine. He makes a whimpering sound against my mouth which makes me moan softly. He wraps his arms around me, pressing us tightly together, his fingers gripping my hair at the nape of my neck, our tongues dancing and exploring. When finally we break apart, panting, I sit back slightly on my knees and take his hand, moving it towards my chest. His eyes widen, and I feel a slight resistance in his arm, but I continue, placing his palm over my heart and holding it there. "Can you feel my heart Peeta?" He nods, and I continue, "It's pounding, and only you have ever made me feel this way, Peeta. Only you." His eyes light up and his free hand gently takes mine and presses it to his chest, above his heart. I can feel it racing, keeping almost perfect time with my own. I grin at him as we sit facing each other, hands pressed over each other's hearts.