At morning Katniss woke up to the sound of 2 successive Canons and immediately dreaded when she couldn't find Peeta anywhere near her. In the back of her mind it registered that the cut on forehead she received from her exchange with Marvel, and which she forgot to take care of while grieving Rue's death, has opened again from the bandages Peeta hastily sealed them with last night. However she paid them no heed. It was dark and raining outside and the light of fire with stag flesh smoking over it was the only source of light around. She, in a state of worry was about to dash out of the cave, when Peeta finally entered the cave with a startling dive – all drenched wet and with signs of blood on his metallic claws. That meant only one thing – he killed yet again.
Even before he could get up Katniss shoved his face upwards and smacked him hard across the face, screaming at the same time, "Where the hell were you?" And then in heart-wrenching sobs she engulfed the still startled boy in a hug all the while hitting his chest.
It took Peeta quite awhile to gather his bearings straight from the unexpected assault, before he returned the hug and made both of them sit; Katniss on his lap. He rocked her gently whispering words of assurance all the while. Finally after what seemed like forever, Katniss finally managed to calm down enough to eat the hot meat Peeta had somehow managed to serve in a bowl with one hand while still holding her with the other. She still didn't let go of his body but accepted the offered bowl. "Um... I spotted some disturbances this morning in the woods across awhile ago with my night-vision binoculars. After some inspection there while in incognito, I found the Duo from District 7 camping above one of the trees here. In case if you are wondering, that's what the Canons blasted for," said Peeta the last part a bit hesitantly.
Katniss looked at Peeta in the eyes and said with a hint of sternness, "Listen carefully Peeta. It's not your fault that you killed them. It was because you had to. And that still doesn't changes anything between us or about how I feel for you," finished Katniss sincerely and Peeta smiled with a little sigh of relief. "I'm kind of glad that you found them before the Careers. They leave their prey to die from the wounds they inflict – that's what I consider inhumane and barbaric." Peeta nodded grimly in agreement, Sybil's plea for mercy, despite that she lived, was still fresh in his memory. "How did you jump along with that leg anyway?"
"Endurance?" offered Peeta meekly.
Sighing Katniss rolled her eyes and said, "Let me guess. Something to do with your mother?"
"What more did you expect from a woman who basically tells her son that he will die after he volunteers to take the place of her supposedly favorite son to enter a Games from where out of 40 only 1 returns alive?" asked Peeta dryly.
"One of the first thing I'm going to do, should I return District 12 alive, is send an arrow through your mum's skull," muttered Katniss.
"You are going to make it back home. Along with me. And if you really do that please don't take chances and aim straight for the heart. I couldn't love you more should you ever decide to do that. And all the debts you talk about repaying me, which I never cared about anyway, can be thought as settled. I'm sure Rye would then worship the very grounds you walk upon," finished Peeta amusedly.
Katniss for the first time in awhile, let herself relax and giggled like a normal girl. She was enjoying the freeness she rarely gets, if ever, even out of the Games, and thus wanted to savor every moment out of it. She finally declared, "You both truly hate your mother."
"That's an understatement. And for all its worth, I am both amazed with and sorry for dad at the same time," said Peeta chuckling as well which slowly subsided as he lent down to almost the front of her face. Both of them looked at each other's eyes for a few moments before Peeta finally captured Katniss's lips in his own and started kissing her with a renewed passion.
Rye's Realm, Victor's Vill, District 12...
"It was only today that I managed to forge you 4 a full-proof fake identity marking you as citizens of District 12 by hacking the District Database and bribing the recorders generously. So please don't go and let all my efforts go to waste so soon Glimmer or else Peeta is going to skin me alive. And as much temping it is to kill the witch, right now she isn't worth it," pleaded Rye as he along with Sybill, Dylan and Prim were holding back an enraged Glimmer who was trying to get out of the house with the bow and arrow she found in the house's weaponry section and shoot the 'hag' down right inside the bakery.
"She definitely worths it and more. The nerve of her to wish her son's death the first thing after reaping. I'm gonna finish her before Katniss even gets her chance…" as she rattled off and the others continued to restrain her; everyone had one thing clear though – never insult someone in front of Glimmer whom she considers one of her own and really cares very deeply about. She becomes very violent. Especially when that someone who is insulted is named Peeta Mellark.
~Katniss POV~
The desperation I feel for Peeta during this kiss hits me so unexpectedly. Against his lips I give a small gasp of surprise. I can tell that he notices, but I suppose he misinterprets the gasp to be one of pain. He pulls back gently and examines my forehead, which has begun to bleed again. I was so wrapped up with Peeta that I hadn't even noticed.
"I think your wound is bleeding again," he says softly as he started working on it and I ate my meat silently watching him work expertly on my wound. Even his healing is commendable. If I'm being honest then it can out-dwell my mother or Prim's skills any day. Once he was sure that the wound was all patched up he said, "Come on, lie down."
I comply, but before I do I press my lips to his again. I get the same feeling in my chest, only this time it spreads to my stomach. The feeling is unlike anything I've ever experienced before, and I find that I want to recreate it as much as possible. I'm not allowed to though. While I've been busy kissing him, Peeta lays me down inside the sleeping bag. He breaks us apart, crawls in next to me so he can keep watch, and zips the bag up.
"I can keep watch Peeta," I say. He gives me a skeptical look but I can see clearly that he is tired and hasn't rested in awhile. "I'll be fine. I need some time to think." Peeta, being the practical boy he is, relents and kisses my forehead softly before laying down, his arms wrapping tightly and protectively around me and his warm body spooning me radiating his warmth.
What am I going to do about this new feeling? How am I going to explore it as much as I want to when we're in the middle of the Games? True, we are the star-crossed lovers, but we also have to focus on getting out of this Hell alive. If we do make it back, then maybe I'd be able to dwell on my feelings for Peeta, under the protection of my District, out in the woods with him (as for now I know how skillful he actually is at the forest). Now, in the back of my mind, part of me wants to be kissing Peeta. I can't shake this feeling, no matter how hard I try. I don't even really want to eliminate the feeling.
Peeta has described his feelings for me as love. A different kind of love than what I feel for Prim. I feel like I would save Peeta's life against my own, under any circumstance. I would do the same for Prim. So I must love Peeta too. In fact, I'm sure that I love him – at least in some way.
But the feeling for Peeta is different than anything I've experienced around Prim. It takes me a minute to place a name to the feeling. Passion. Peeta makes me feel passion. Married couples would always talk to each other in passionate tones, a tone reserved only for their other half. Is what I feel for Peeta what married couples feel for each other? I'll never get married, but could I be experiencing the same emotions?
Feelings. Passion. Love. Peeta. The words roll so nicely together.
After a few hours of pondering, I can't keep my eyes open anymore. Reluctantly I rouse Peeta. He opens his eyes sleepily, and I pull him in for another kiss, to see if the warmth has gone away. Quite the opposite in fact. If anything, it has intensified, filling me to the brim. Against his lips, so quietly, that I know the cameras won't be able to hear, I whisper, "I love you."
The words have a sense of extreme rightness on my lips. They ring with truth and pureness. How could I have not seen this sooner? How could I have denied these feelings before? Everyone else saw it. Why was I the one that was blind to everything?
I realize I'm just staring at Peeta like an idiot, drinking in the familiar features. "Yes, Katniss?" he asks after a while, a smile playing on his lips. I blink a few times and shake my head a little. Peeta lays me down, his smile now prominent. He gives me a light kiss on the forehead and I close my eyes, exhausted from my revelations.
I might be imagining it, but I think I hear him chuckle before I drift into unconsciousness.
I wake to the smell of smoked meat. Rubbing my eyes, I see the blurry outline of Peeta, bending down and looking as though he's picking something up from off the ground. My vision comes into better focus, and I see that Peeta has a bowl of meat in his hands and a part of the stag was now getting smoked over the fire nearby. The unofficial temporary fireplace made of branches was once again one of Peeta's brilliant ideas and with the generous stock of fire-starters he had in stock, lighting one was a child's play for a baker.
"I made this after you fell asleep this morning," he says. "Don't worry, I didn't eat any of it yet." He smiles at me, and it's so warm and genuine that I feel the same stirring in my stomach that I felt this morning. So I truly am in love with him.
I almost move in to kiss him again when other people's faces pop into my head. Prim. Rue. Glimmer. Dylan. Sybill. Even Madge is there, reminding me that no one's safe. No one's safe from this hell of an Arena. I've already had to sacrifice myself for someone I love, and I may not be able to do that again. And I don't want anyone else I care about going through the Hunger Games as well.
This feeling that I have for Peeta is the same feeling that leads people to marriage. And marriage leads to children. How can I condemn a child to watch these brutal Games year after year, knowing that one day they might be a part of the freak show? How can I willingly send someone to stand frozen with fear at the Reapings, dreading the chance that they or someone they know will be sent to fight to the death? And what if my child was chosen? How can I forcibly send someone that I would love, maybe even as much as Prim or Peeta, into this Arena?
I can't do any of that in good conscience. So throughout the next day, I try to distance myself as much as I can from Peeta. Maybe, if I deny these feelings long enough, they'll eventually starve out and die. Then I won't have to battle with this rage inside of me, my sense of what's-right battling with what-I-want.
I can tell Peeta notices that I'm more withdrawn. He doesn't attempt to force any conversation, and of course I obviously don't seek to start one. My mind drifts off to the other Tributes for a moment, wondering if they're holding up against Cato's seething anger. I could feel it when the Cornucopia blew off and he snapped the District 3 girl's head in his rage.
But even though this was exactly what I was trying to quench, my mind is mostly at war with itself throughout the day. As I lie against Peeta's chest (I can't remove all forms of affection), playing with one of his golden strand of hair, there's a small voice in my head, screaming that this is wrong, improper and inappropriate. Funnily enough, that voice almost sounds like Gale's. But there's a larger part of my mind, one that's getting louder every minute, that tells me that this is what I was put on this planet for. I was always meant to complete the boy who lays here with me, and he was meant to complete me.
I've fought what seems to be the inevitable countless times. I've fought against starvation at home, and I won. I've fought against my quarry that I've hunted, and I won. I've fought against the very nation of Panem by leaving the borders of my District and bringing fresh game to the hungry people, and I won. And now I'm fighting against my own feelings, and I'm losing. Things have always been, to some degree, in my control ever since I started hunting, with the exception of Peeta of course who did whatever he did for me at his own will. But since the Reaping, I'm finding that more and more things are slipping through my fingers. I couldn't control that they pulled Prim's name. I can't control these Games. But I should be able to control my own feelings. And I can't!
Does this mean that I'm weak? Or is this truly something that no one can fight against, no matter how strong they are? Somehow, deep in my soul, I believe that it's the latter. I look at my parents. My father knew that, being from the Seam, it would be a challenge to support a family. Maybe even impossible. Yet he fell in love with my mother and started a family with her anyway. And then there are Peeta's parents. I don't see how anyone could possibly love his witch of a mother, but the baker probably did.
But what about Peeta? Is he just acting for the cameras? Or is he really in love with me? I decide there's really no point other than just asking.
"Peeta," I begin, my voice slightly hoarse from lack of use. "You said at the interview that you had a crush on me since forever. When did that forever start?"
Peeta looks down at me, surprise that I want to talk evident in his features, but there's already a smile dancing around his lips, playing in his eyes. "Oh let's see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair… it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up."
"You're father?" I interrupt — a bit overwhelmed at the sudden onslaught of facts.. "Why?"
"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" Peeta says, his smile hinting at a bit of sadness that I can find no lie in. Either he's really good at storytelling… or he's telling the truth.
"What? You're making that up!" I burst out, and Peeta laughs. His laugh is a good hearty sound, and it doesn't belong in a gray cave with rain falling everywhere.
"No, true story," he says, still chuckling."And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings, even the birds stop to listen.'"
~Katniss POV~
Rye's Residence, Victor's Vill, District 12...
"No way!" exclaimed Rye in disbelief as Dylan had a hanging jaw. The girls though were squealing at how romantic it was and kept badgering a blushing and mortified Mrs. Everdeen for details. Glimmer joined for sweet revenge on the woman for putting her in discomfort a few days back. Prim meanwhile was really glad that she had agreed and relented her mother into moving out here for the duration of the Games as between caring for the incoming and wounded Tributes, making daily food and such knick-knacks for them and moments like these, she had really began coming out of her shell where she entered after her father died in the coal-mine accident. Shaking her head to clear her mind she re-joined the other girls in pestering.
~Katniss POV~
"That's true," I say softly, completely in tune with his story now. "They do. I mean, they did," I say quickly. My father had a lovely voice, and now that I stop to think about it, I remember the woods going silent whenever he sang. Even the birds appreciated the beauty of his voice.
"So that day, in music assembly," Peeta continues, "the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up into the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear every bird outside the windows fell silent."
"Oh, please," I say, laughing a bit. I'm nowhere near as good as my father. The birds wouldn't extend the same courtesy that they gave him to me. In fact, they shouldn't treat me as they did him. I feel like that would be dishonoring his memory somehow.
"No, it happened," Peeta says, laughing lightly along with me. "And right when your song ended, I knew — just like my father with your mother — I was a goner. Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you."
"Without success," I add teasingly.
"Without success," he agrees with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair.
I contemplate on this story. Everything has a ring of truth to it. I can remember singing the valley song on the first day of school. I can even vaguely remember a red plaid dress. Is Peeta really in love with me too? I feel like he might just be… and I've finally accepted it. I'm in love with him too. But I will never, ever have children. That is unthinkable.
"You have a remarkable memory," I finally comment him, my voice low. Peeta grins at me.
"I remember everything about you. It's you who wasn't paying attention," he says.
"I am now," I say back.
"Well, I don't have much competition here do I?" he asks.
I find that other voice in my head, the one that sounded like Gale. It's fainter than ever, and then suddenly, it disappears. All I feel is a sense of rightness, being here with Peeta. And I remember how I have secretly kept track of him all these years, and most importantly what pains he has taken for me all the while back in home as well as now in the Games.
"You don't have much competition anywhere." The words slip from my mouth without me having to think about them, but I know they're true. They're among the truest words I've ever said. And because I'm not denying myself anymore, I lean in to kiss him.
There's a fire inside my stomach the moment our lips meet. I kiss Peeta with every fiber of my being, and even though I don't really know what I'm doing, I try and put my passion into this kiss. I can tell he notices a difference. He hesitates for a moment, then responds with the same amount of passion I am giving him. I truly mean something with this kiss. I truly love him.
There's a clatter outside the cave, and we're suddenly sprung apart. In a matter of moments, I grab my bow and nock an arrow, while Peeta unsheathes his now signature double-knives from his back, his saber-claws come to live from his finger-less gloves and finally he takes his stand protectively in front of me. There's no noise for a moment, so Peeta's peers out, and then lets out a chuckle of amusement. He scrambles out of the cave for a moment, but before I can even get worried, he comes back with a large picnic basket full of steamy Capitol food. I can see Haymitch, nodding with satisfaction. It seems as though physical affection as well as emotional attachment is what the audience is looking for. And I know I can deliver that to everyone. I can deliver that to the people watching. I can deliver that to Peeta, because I'm finally reciprocating. And I can deliver that to myself. All I want is Peeta, and I'm so thankful that I don't have to pretend anymore.
With the voice of Gale pushed out from my thoughts altogether, possibly permanently, I turn back to Peeta and kiss him again.
The sound of 2 successive canons, heard at a distance, broke the kiss that was still going on. It was immediately followed by Templesmith's congratulations for all surviving Tributes to make it to the Final 8 and his declaration of the Feast.
~Katniss POV~
(A/N) : Hey there. I apologise for being late at posting it. My computer is sadly Resting In Peace (quite literally) at the moment and I'm really contemplating whether or not should I get its corpse a tombstone. A year warranty and exactly that's how long it gave its service.
Enough about my misfortunes now. Enjoy it (if you find it enjoyable that is) and any scope of improvement you find, let me know. I have said earlier and I shall say KT again, I appreciate comments on constructive criticism.
~Aeigns