When I enter my room, there she is, looking so perfect on my bed. She's stretched out and I can see her round breasts through her thin shirt. I resist the urge to leap on top of her and strip her of all her clothing and I lower my head as I head straight to my closet. I pause just for a moment and notice her eyes traveling down my body. I glance down and am suddenly self-conscious. I mutter that I didn't take clothes with me to the bathroom, in hope of excusing my lack of dress. Don't get me wrong, before the Reaping, I still tried to keep myself in shape and did get compliments from girls on my physique. After becoming a Victor, everyone talked about what a handsome young man I was but I never got the looks from the one person who mattered. After all the war, I was changed. Both physically and mentally. Scars covered my body and I found that I didn't want anyone to ever see me like this. Granted I've never been as squeamish about nudity as Katniss, but I don't imagine either of us are too comfortable with our appearances at this point in our lives. But when she looks at me, it's different. Her eyes scanning my body make me harden with desire. She continues to stare at me and I shiver a little. Turning my back to her, I try to focus as I dress as quickly as I can. When I turn back to her, her gaze has never wavered. My hands go to my hips as I give her a little glare.
"Stop that," I admonish.
"What?" She says in confusion.
"Looking at me like I'm a piece of meat. I won't be able to restrain myself for much longer if you keep that up." It was the truth. I'm already finding it immensely difficult to keep my hands off of her. After what we had done at her house, all I can think about is going further and I know she's not ready for that. I don't think I am either. Our healing has barely begun, I have to keep reminding myself. And I know I hurt her when they rescued me from the Capitol. I mean besides trying to choke the life out of her, which I'll never forgive myself for. I know how much it hurt her to look at me and know I was suffering. I know I said some awful things to her. I still apologize for them but she keeps telling me to forget the past and focus on what we have now. I see her stretch out on the bed and she gives me a seductive look.
"How do you know that I'm looking at you?" I wet my lips as I watch her closely.
"I feel it," it comes out in a whisper and I can feel my heart racing. She deliberately strikes a pose and her eyes darken.
"Then why restrain yourself? Come here." I let out a little moan as I take her hand that she is offering me and I join her on the bed. My prosthetic makes me a little clumsy as I straddle her, my fingers lacing around her wrists and bringing them over her head. The way she is kissing me makes me dizzy and weak. I can't see straight and my tongue explores her mouth completely. I move down to taste the skin of her neck and I relish the taste of sunshine and earth and the trees. My hands move down to the edge of her shirt and I push up, revealing the breasts that I have dreamed about all my life. They're small but perfect. Her nipples are rosy and pink, surrounded by brown skin. I won't admit to her I used to fantasize about her. Having her here underneath me is more than a dream come true. I never thought it would be possible. I lean down and swirl my tongue around one of her nipples and I feel my cock twitch when she moans my name. I take her breast in my mouth, and pull back, staring at her heaving chest that glistens with my saliva. I capture her eyes and give her a wicked grin before I go back to teasing her chest, finding a spot over her right breast and sucking in earnest. We won't leave visible marks on each other since we aren't telling everyone about us yet but I want to show her that she is mine and no one else's. She's already claimed me as her own. Now I'm going to do the same. When I pulled back, I grinned at the purple mark I had made, that no one but me would see. She glances at it and glares at me which makes me chuckle.
"You've claimed me as yours. I've marked you as mine." Her hands are wrapping around my neck and bringing me lower on top of her, as she leans forward and I feel her tongue on my skin. She starts to suck at my neck and I tense up a little, afraid that we are breaking our unspoken rule. But then she moves down, kissing me into oblivion, until she reaches my chest. Her fingers tentatively run over my scars and she starts to kiss one below my collarbone. I remember the night they gave me that too. It was after I had warned Katniss about the bombing of 13. They beat the shit out of me on the set then dragged me back to my room and tortured me all night. Peacekeepers twisted knives into my flesh, not enough to cause damage but enough to make me scream. I was beaten with heavy pipes and huge whips. I didn't think I would survive that particular night. The thought of Katniss waiting for me, wishing for me to be with her again, was what kept me going.
She starts to suck harder and I gasp as I realize what she's doing. I feel like I might just come without her even touching me. I am so hard and I long for my release. But I want to watch her come undone again.
"And now you are marked as mine," she says in a husky voice. My fingers trace her lips before I lean down and kiss her again.
"I would trade every scar for one of your marks." She tugs me even closer and I am afraid I will squash her but she seems to be pulling me into her. My cock rubs against her center and we both let out little moans. My hands move from her face down her body, to rub across her breasts, until they come to caress that sweet treasure between her legs. She jerks her hips and I slip my hand past the waistband of her pants and rub across the soft cotton of her underwear. God she is so wet. I can almost smell her and it's going to destroy me. I long to touch her, to taste her, to make her scream my name. My fingers rub against her center and her legs fall open as her fingers tangle in my hair. I'm now painfully hard but I'm determined to make her come first. I want to watch her when I do it. I want to see the light in her eyes as I bring her to her release. Her eyes meet mine and I bite my lip. Suddenly, a pain seizes me somewhere around my middle and my fists clench from the pain of it. My hands are on either side of her head and I close my eyes.
"Peeta?" I hear her voice and look at her and I gasp when I see red eyes with fire flashing in them. She's smirking up at me and she touches her breasts and scoffs.
"Worthless. You're worthless and pathetic. I should have stayed with Gale after all. He's much better than you."
"No," I whimper, shaking my head. I feel a hand touch my cheek and I jerk back. Not real. Not real! This isn't real. She loves you. She told you so. It's just the hijacking. Stop it. Stop it now!
But a part of me wants to stop it another way. My hands itch to choke the life out of her. My mind tells me she is laughing at me, using me for her own pleasures. My heart tells me otherwise. I force myself to listen to my heart. The heart that has loved this girl against all odds. The heart that beats only for her. I hear her voice, softer and kinder and more loving than I had imagined it.
"Peeta, stay with me. Not real. Not real. Whatever you are seeing, it's not real." Her arms are wrapping around me and I fight against her. My heart is screaming at me, as it fights against my mind. She loves you. She is protecting you. Keep her safe. Like you always do. Come back to her. Stay with her.
My hands reach up and tug at my hair, hitting myself in the head. I register her holding my arms and I start to panic again. My brain tells me that she is trying to kill me but I shake my head and will those images away. She starts to rock me gently against her chest and what really brings me back is her smell. I'm pressed into her shirt and I can smell her foresty smell that makes me remember where I am. With her. In her arms. The Capitol can't completely taint memories of her because they didn't have enough. It was all visual but they didn't realize that I loved everything about her. Her smell, her stormy eyes as they bore into mine, the feel of her hand in mine, the taste of her skin, the feel of her lips against mine, the way her braid felt in my hands. All of these things help me stay grounded and focused on Katniss.
"You're mine, Peeta. Not theirs. You're here, with me. You're safe, I won't let anything happen to you. Not real, Peeta. Not real." I whimper at her words, feeling myself coming back, and I whisper her name. I collapse in her arms and let her hold me. This isn't how it's supposed to be. I'm supposed to be the strong one. I was the one who would always hold her when she had nightmares on the train. Now she's the one comforting me. I feel sick to my stomach and I look up at her. The look she is giving me makes me even sicker. It's pity. I have to get out of here.
"I'll be right back," I mutter before rushing straight to the bathroom. I grip the counter with both hands until my knuckles are white. I look into the mirror and hate what I see. I look insane, with my eyes red and puffy. How can she love this?! Maybe she's right…maybe it's stupid to think we can be happy together.
I shake my head. Stop it now, I tell myself firmly. I'm supposed to be the optimist. I love her. And I know she loves me. Whatever the Capitol did, we can't let it ruin what we have. And what we have is great. I won't give up. I will fight, as I have everyday, for her love.
When I come out of the bathroom, I hear sniffling from the bedroom. I find her spread out on the bed, her face buried in her arms. I rush to her side and gather her into my arms, holding her close to my chest as she had just done moments ago. I wrap her arms around my neck and hold her in my lap.
"Katniss, shh, it's ok. I'm here, I'm alright."
"For how long, Peeta," she gasps out. I pull back, frowning.
"What do you mean?"
"One of these days I'm not going to be able to bring you back. And then you'll-" I silence her with a kiss, one that makes both our heads spin. She's breathless when I come up for air and I fix her with a hard look.
"I will ALWAYS come back to you. Always. I told you, not even the Capitol can stop me from loving you." I gently lean her back and lay down next to her, wrapping my arms around her and allowing her to rest her head on my chest. My leg is throbbing and my shirt is sticking to my back, damp with sweat, but I ignore it all. She starts to fall asleep and I just hold her, whispering into her hair how much I love her.
After she's fallen asleep, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. My mind is racing too much for me to sleep so I glance sideways at her and I feel my face relax into a smile. She looks so peaceful. I gently disentangle myself and pull the blankets over her, giving her a light kiss before I shuffle off. I glance back once more and smile at the sight of her sleeping peacefully. In my room. In my bed. Katniss Everdeen.
Yeah, that's been my fantasy since I was five.
I shuffle down the hall to my studio and quietly push the door open. The room is a mess, like a whirlwind went right through, with papers scattered everywhere and easels knocked aside, paint all over the walls and floors. This is my little corner of paradise and my piece of hell. I paint everything I feel, the good and the bad. From the floor, glowing eyes glare up at me and I kick them away, disgusted. I wish I could say the good paintings outweigh the bad but it's not true. I paint what I see. I see a lot of messed up shit when I dream. I grab a palette and settle down in front of the easel, stretching my legs in front of me. On second thought…I reach down and unhitch the clasp, the prosthetic coming off with a gentle hiss. I feel instant relief and I set to work.
I don't know how long I sit up here and I have no idea what time it is when I finish but I'm finally exhausted and think I can sleep. I study back my work and a scowl crosses my face. It started as a painting of Katniss, lying in bed in all her glory, the edge of the sheet covering one of her breasts while she snored. Her hair wasn't in a braid; it lay like a gentle cloud underneath her head and there was a smile on her face, as she dreamed something pleasant, hopefully something about us. But my nightmares took over and she developed red eyes, her smile turned into a snarl, and her face was screwed up in contempt. She looked lovely and more dangerous than ever. Disgusted, I knock the painting aside and watch the paint drip. Sighing, I reattach the leg so I won't wake Katniss too much and re-enter our room.
Oh god. I love how that sounds. OUR room.
She is still dreaming peacefully and I am glad to see nightmares have not reached her tonight. I take off the prosthetic and slide into bed behind her, bringing her into my embrace and feeling her let out a little sigh as she shifts in her sleep. I gently move a strand of hair from her cheek and nuzzle in close to her, praying she will keep the nightmares away.