A/N: Thank you guys so much for all of the follows, faves and reviews. I appreciate the feedback. This is a short chapter-I just couldn't resist writing Chapter 11 from Peeta's POV. RL will claim all of my attention for the next few days, but I will respond to feedback as soon as possible.
Things start to pick up after this. The players are mostly where I want them to be. Now I can start putting them in harm's way [cue the flying monkeys], or getting them all nekkid [cue the porn soundtrack]. Gadge fans, stay tuned.
Thanks as always to my awesome betas for this chapter, dandelionsunset and evilgrinstar.
Chapter 12—the love song (Ch. 11 from Peeta's POV)
Peeta arrived 15 minutes ahead of schedule at the Undersee's house that first night. He was hoping to get there early enough that he could hear Katniss sing. As Madge let him in, she gushed, "Oh my god, Peeta, you won't believe how good they are. Come on downstairs but stay quiet. I think Rye is pretty focused on what he's doing."
Peeta grinned, "I don't doubt it." He followed Madge and sat on the second to last stair near the bottom of the basement steps. The band was arranged in a semi circle, with Katniss in the middle. They were facing the far end of the basement, so he saw them in profile, more or less.
At the moment, Rye was stomping the beat out with his foot while Dalton played the bass line. "Dude. What's your hurry? It's a slow dance, so quit rushing." When Rye was satisfied, he said, "OK, from the top."
Rye started playing his guitar and Peeta recognized it as "Lovesong." Not a terribly interesting song but pretty enough. Mandor joined in with his mandolin after a couple of bars. Katniss took a breath and opened her mouth to sing.
Then Peeta's world came to a stop.
Whenever I'm alone with you,
You make me feel like I am home again.
Whenever I'm alone with you,
You make me feel like I am whole again.
30 seconds before, Peeta thought that this song was mediocre, at best. Now it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. He struggled to keep his composure but he still felt the threat of tears. Madge was openly crying but, like everything she did, she was quiet about it.
However far way I will always love you
However long I stay will always love you
Whatever words I say I will always love you
I will always love you
When they were five years old, Katniss' voice was clear and pure. Now? Now it was love and heartbreak given voice. It felt as if she was singing to him; that she was explaining to his own heart what it was feeling before it knew itself. It was almost—almost—too much to bear.
They ran through the song a second time and it was somehow even more heartbreaking than it had been the first time. When it came to an end, Peeta felt like he'd been emptied out.
They were finished for the night. Peeta stood in the doorway. He felt a little shaky, like he'd sprinted there or something. Katniss walked over to where he was standing with Madge. Madge hugged Katniss. Peeta bit back a smile at the surprise on Katniss' face. He made a mental note when Madge invited Prim—he would decorate another cookie for the little girl—and then, finally, he was alone with Katniss, walking her home.
Katniss was clearly lost in thought but the silence was comfortable. Every few minutes, he would glance over at her. She had a little wrinkle between her eyebrows. Peeta had a strong urge to reach over and smooth it out with his thumb.
After awhile, Katniss blinked a bit and looked at him. She looked pensive, almost lost. "Everything OK?" he asked her in what he really hoped was a reassuring tone.
"Yeah, I'm OK. I just-" She shook her head in confusion. Peeta waited until she was was ready to speak. She finally sighed, "I'm not very good with words." How could you be? You've hardly spoken in five years, thought Peeta.
"Are you upset?" It seemed like a reasonable question to ask.
"No, not upset. I just wasn't expecting to the time to go by so quickly."
"That happens to me sometimes when I paint," Peeta said. "A whole afternoon can go by and I'm not even aware of time passing."
"I didn't know you painted. Are your paintings as good as your cakes?"
Peeta was a little embarrassed at her praise but it felt so good to hear. "Well, I don't know that they compare very well. They're very different from each other. My cakes taste better, though." For example, he thought, I don't paint pictures of you on our cakes. Over the years, Peeta had created scores of sketches and paintings of her.
"Hey," Katniss interrupted his thoughts. "What was up with Madge at the end of the rehearsal? She looked like she'd been crying."
"Your singing literally reduced her to tears."
"I'm that bad?"
"God, no, Katniss. You have an amazing singing voice. "
"Hmmm. Speaking of which, where did you learn I could sing? You said it was a story for another time and we have time." Peeta tried to think of a way to avoid answering this question directly. She was waiting for an answer.
Peeta gathered his thoughts. He wanted to answer the question honestly without making it sound like he'd been pining after her for nearly 11 years. Which, granted, he had been. But telling her that would make him sound like a stalker and he didn't want to scare her off. He took a cleansing breath. "Do you remember our very, very first day we went to school, when we were little?"
"No."
"Ok, well my dad was walking me to school. He pointed you out to me. He told me that he had wanted to marry your mother but that she had run off with a coal miner, instead. I asked him why and he said, 'because when he sings, the birds stop to listen.'"
"That's true. They did stop," Katniss whispered.
"Anyway," Peeta continued, "later that day, the teacher asked if anybody knew the words to the Valley Song. Your hand shot up in the air. She had you stand on a chair and when you sang—well, the birds stopped to listen." And I developed a massive crush on you that's only gotten stronger over the years as I've watched you from afar. Yeah, he should not add that last part.
"I can't believe you still remember that, Peeta. It was so long ago. I only barely remember it myself," she admitted.
"I've never forgotten it, Katniss. I don't think you understand the effect you have on people." Katniss looked a little befuddled. Her usual scowl was gone. She was looking at him—at him—with curiosity. Peeta struggled to control himself. He wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss her stubborn little mouth. He wanted to undo her braid and run his fingers through her hair. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was. He wanted to press her body into his.
Bad ideas. Those were all bad ideas. He'd never recover if he scared her off. He could hear his mother's voice in the back of his head, pathetic, stupid, useless.
"Why was Rye giving you such a hard time about it?"
Because he's a dick. "Because he's Rye. Honestly, I was...kinda terrified you'd kill me for telling him about you. And he knew I was terrified." And in love with you. "He couldn't pass up the chance to embarrass me." Dick.
"Why would I care who you told? And why were you terrified of me?" She looked genuinely perplexed and Peeta would have thought it was cute if he hadn't wanted the entire subject dropped so badly.
"Because you're a very private person. Who kills things."
Katniss smiled. It was a big smile, the kind he hadn't seen in years. "Peeta, I kill squirrels. And bunny rabbits. You lift bags of flour that weigh more than I do, plus you're twice my size. I think you can take me in a fight." And for just a moment there, he could have sworn her eyes were sparkly again.
Peeta could barely contain his happiness. Katniss was smiling because of him. And whether she was aware of it or not, she'd just admitted that she'd noticed him and how strong he was. "Oh, it would never get to that point. I'd just throw myself at your feet and beg for mercy." He knew she took that comment as lighthearted banter, but he meant every word.
Katniss kept smiling until they arrived at her house. Then her smile vanished as she invited him in to meet her mother. He could tell that Katniss was embarrassed to have him see how poor they were.
Peeta knew that the Everdeens were poor. Still, he really hadn't been prepared for the depth of their poverty. There was a small fireplace and a stove but no heating system. Paraffin lamps. Thin walls and windows that didn't keep the wind out. Peeta wondered how on earth they survived the winters.
He wished Katniss wasn't embarrassed. He wished he could tell her that he'd rather be in a rundown shack with her than any mansion without her. Actually, what he really wished was that he could take her away from this and keep her safe, warm and happy. That wasn't going to happen tonight, though, so he focused on being polite to her mother.
Meeting Mrs. Everdeen was…a little depressing, actually. His father said she had once been the most beautiful girl in the District. Peeta could certainly believe that was true—just look at Katniss, and even little Prim—but it was hard to reconcile that with the sad, distracted woman who shook his hand. Mrs. Everdeen was polite but a good part of her attention was somewhere else. He had the feeling that when she looked at him, she was really seeing somebody else. It didn't take a genius to figure out who.
Peeta said his goodbyes and walked home. His mother had waited up for him. The moment he was inside, she started interrogating him. He had been worried she was going to ask him questions about Katniss but it became clear that she was really only interested in the Undersees. What was their house like? What kind of furniture did they have? Did they have any servants? Did he speak with the Mayor? And so on.
After her obligatory "don't screw this up, like you always do", she let him go upstairs. Rye was already in bed but awake, scribbling in a notebook. When he saw Peeta, he started to chuckle. "Peet, I totally owe you. Thanks for telling me about Everdeen. She's exactly what the band needed."
Peeta grinned. "You're welcome. She's pretty amazing."
"You know it," Rye yawned. "And once we start playing, the whole District will know it, too." Rye clicked off the light and within a few minutes, Peeta heard him snore. Peeta stared at the ceiling, thinking about what Rye had just said. It was long time before he was able to drift off to sleep.