Peeta is whistling—and he's actually quite good at it—while he sets up the snacks before running club on Tuesday. He's made it all the way through three songs with a goofy grin on his face the entire time.
"What's gotten into the kid?" Haymitch says gruffly to Gale. "Sweetheart finally pay him some attention?"
Gale laughs. "I'd say that's a pretty good guess," he says.
Looking over his shoulder Gale nods his head in the direction of the door. "Speaking of Katniss…" he says, indicating that she has just walked in the door.
Haymitch turns slowly on his bar stool, giving Katniss the once over as she crosses the room toward the bar. She's smiling and looks as well rested and happy as he's seen her in quite awhile. "Well, well, well," he says, smirking at her. "What's got you in such a good mood?"
This comment elicits the expected scowl from Katniss, causing both Haymitch and Gale to laugh. "That's more like it," says Haymitch, raising his glass of clear liquor in a mock toast to Katniss.
But Katniss only ignores him and moves right on past to where Peeta is putting out napkins with the snacks.
"Hi Peeta," she says. "Need some help?"
Peeta smiles brightly at her. "Nope, all set. But thanks," he replies.
She smiles back at him and together they stand there grinning at each other for a moment.
"Oh I almost forgot," he says, turning suddenly and reaching below the tabletop to retrieve a bag sitting on the floor. "I brought you you're daily supply." He hands her the bag, giving her a wink.
She gets the joke as soon as she looks inside. There, stuffed into the white paper bag, are four plump cheese buns. Katniss licks her lips in anticipation, oblivious to the fact that Peeta can't take his eyes of her mouth during the process.
"Mmmmm, Peeta," she says, her voice unintentionally seductive. "You just might be my new best friend."
"Not what he's going for, sweetheart," Haymitch pipes up as he passes near the two of them on his way to the back room.
"Shut up Haymitch," Katniss retorts, blushing crimson. Peeta is also a rosy hue, but he chuckles.
….
He doesn't bring her cheese buns every single day, like they joked in the bakery, but he does bring them every time they see each other. In between the days they run with the running club, they text briefly, at least once a day, and usually at night right before Katniss turns off the lamp and goes to sleep. For some reason, these brief conversations with Peeta make the sleep come easier and she's having fewer nightmares, too. The result is that she's more well rested and relaxed than she's been in a long time.
They begin meeting on Saturday mornings to run, as well. She drives to the bakery to wait while he finishes the early work and then together they take off in the tree-lined neighborhood. Sometimes the conversation flows freely and sometimes they simply run in companionable silence. Either way, Katniss finds that she enjoys the easy camaraderie she has found in Peeta.
Then one Thursday evening they are running with the group from The Hob when thunderheads begin to gather in the West. Several group members in the front of the pack decide to cut the run short and head back toward the brewery since it looks like it may storm. A few decide to try to get in another mile or two before turning back.
Katniss glances at Peeta and through a sort of unspoken agreement, they decide to keep running a bit longer. They've been doing this for a while now—communicating without really saying anything out loud. It's especially nice when they're running and out of breath, to be able to say things with just a nod or a meaningful look.
But despite being so in sync, Katniss and Peeta are not very intuitive when it comes to this storm. Within minutes of separating from the majority of the group, the sky darkens and they have to turn back toward the brewery. They've only made it another quarter mile before a giant clap of thunder precedes a sudden downpour.
Katniss is soaked completely through, her shoes sloshing against the pavement and her wet braid slapping against her neck. She doesn't mind running in the rain, but this is ridiculous—she can barely see a foot in front of her in this downpour.
Suddenly Peeta grabs her hand and pulls her along, ducking under an awning, in the doorway of a small printing business that has already closed for the day. The rain is blowing sideways, so they aren't completely protected, even under the little porch, but it's better than nothing.
They huddle together, soaking wet in the small space, as near as they can get without actually touching. Then a clap of loud thunder causes them to both startle and jump into one another, practically bumping heads.
Katniss is the first to laugh. Pure, musical, unhindered laughter. Peeta joins her, reaching up to put his hand over the top of her head gently. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes shiny with amusement over the situation.
It takes this gesture—his hand on her head—to make her aware of just how closely they are standing now. She's tucked into the doorway, his larger, athletic body shielding her, and her hands are firmly planted on his strong chest. If she wanted to push him away, she'd be in the perfect position. But she doesn't want to, she realizes; she wants to stay right here, protected.
She looks up at him, eyes wide. "I'm—" she starts to answer, but she's stopped by the way he's looking at her now. The amusement is gone from his eyes and instead she finds something closer to reverence there. He's looking at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on and she knows, or hopes rather, that he's going to kiss her now.
He pushes some of the wet hair that is matted to her face off her forehead, running his thumb down the side of her cheek at the same time he leans down, closing the space between their lips. "Katniss," he breathes, just before he presses his lips to hers gently.
It would be a lie to say she hasn't thought about what it would be like to kiss Peeta Mellark. When she's thought about it, before, she's always worried that he will be able to tell she is fairly inexperienced. She's only kissed two people, and one was on a dare in the seventh grade; the other was Gale, but that has been water under the bridge for a long time now.
But right now, in the moment, she doesn't think of any of this. Instead, she gets lost in discovering Peeta—the way he kisses her so gently, yet firmly; the way his lips are so warm, and the way his right hand trails down her cheek and behind her neck to tangle in her wet hair while his other hand draws her in, a warm presence on her lower back through the wet material of her running shirt.
Katniss sighs contentedly and opens her mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He tastes exactly the way the bakery smells, mixed with a little bit of fresh rainwater that is currently running in rivulets down both of their faces. When they finally break apart, Peeta kisses a few extra drops of water off her face before looking into her eyes and giving her one of his glorious smiles. She can't help but return the smile in full force.
His hands are still on either side of her face, where they had landed by the end of the kiss, and hers are still trapped between them, flush against his chest. He tilts his head to the side, nodding ever so slightly. "I think it slowed down," he says, indicating the storm.
"Yeah," she says, her eyes never leaving his face, taking in the way his hair is slightly darker when it's this wet, and the way the freckles across the bridge of his nose are only really noticeable this close up.
He grins and leans down to capture her lips once again.
…
Katniss doesn't know how long they stand there kissing in the doorway of the printing company. She only knows that it feels right—perfect, really.
And then together they make their way back to The Hob, the sound of the rainwater squishing in their running shoes keeping time with the pavement. By the time they make it back all Katniss wants is a hot shower and a warm drink. She heads home, giving Peeta a small wave on the way out.
She hasn't even made it out of the shower before the regret sets in. 'What are you doing Katniss? This will never work,' she tells herself.
When she's dry and changed into sweats, a warm cup of tea wrapped in her hand, she hears the text message alert. She knows it's him.
Peeta: All dry? I think my shoes might be permanently ruined. Ha. Worth it, though. ;-)
She doesn't know how to respond. She doesn't know how she should feel. At the time she knows she wanted to kiss him—wanted him to kiss her—but now that she's removed from the situation she's panicking.
A few minutes later he tries again.
Peeta: Katniss, everything ok? Anyway, just wanted to make sure you got home ok and tell you that I can't wait to see you again.
Her fingers hover over the buttons for too long to warrant the response she ends up typing.
Katniss: home safe. goodnight