Written in response to an ask from arbyeatscheesebuns, "Hey! What are your favourite Everlark snowy, wintry head canons?", In Panem, post-Mockingjay. Rated T.
OoOoOoO
"It's the apocalypse," I grouse as the snow whirls outside the living room window. In the last 24 hours, the winter wonderland of the Victors' Village has transformed into a barren landscape. Peeta and I went outside an hour ago to shovel our walkway and it's beginning to fill in already. We checked to make sure Haymitch had a fire and something to eat while we were out there and the trail of boot prints between our house and his place has already disappeared.
"C'mere. If the end is near, I want to spend it with you," Peeta tells me, rising on his elbow from our nest of blankets in front of the fire. He holds out his hand to me and I scuff across the floor in his wool socks to snuggle against his bare chest under the covers.
"You should probably put some clothes on," I tell him. "It's going to get colder in here now that the power's out."
Peeta laughs and plucks at the shirt I'm wearing. "Katniss, you're wearing my shirt and my socks."
"I couldn't stand in the window naked," I scoff.
He rolls so that I'm on top of him and makes a weak attempt to get his shirt back. "Well, if you're so concerned that I'll freeze to death, give it back."
I playfully push his hands away and tell him I'm going to keep it.
"I'll be cold."
His hands are sliding up my bare thighs when his eyebrow quirks up and he gives me a sly grin. "Don't worry. I warmed you up before. I can do it again."