Part 2: Growing Wings
24. Blue-Eyed Envy
My hands resting on his chest, his hands encircled against the small of my back, Peeta and I are motionless, and he is looking at me with an honestly surprised expression. As if he never expected to find me in his arms at all tonight. I think of the redhead who was just standing where I am and I lower my hands, my cheeks flushing. Something about this whole situation doesn't fit, but I can't help but feel like I am forcing myself onto Peeta when he'd rather be dancing with her.
"Sorry," I say quietly, and I take a step back, beginning to pull away, but Peeta's arms are still locked around my back. "For what?" He says and his surprised expression melts into an honest smile. His eyes are full of something…but it is nothing bad. He almost seems relieved as he says easily "This is the best surprise I've had all day." At this moment, my breath catches again, and my hands inch up independent of thought until they rest on his shoulders and wordless, we are moving gently staring into one another's eyes.
The song is fast, the music seemingly not resting in-between instruments, but as the other couples' spin around us in a dizzying frenzy that matches the beat, Peeta and I are moving slowly, wordless and restful. We don't speak for the whole song, and it is the most peaceful feeling I have felt in months.
It isn't until another song plays, one that I recognize as the first one we ever danced to, what seems so long ago at the president's mansion, that Peeta breaks our gaze and glances towards the far end of the room, where up on a small stage the orchestra for the night is playing.
I feel an unreasonable anger at him when he speaks because he is bringing reality into this moment that I wanted to continue feeling like a dream. "Do you remember this song?" he asks, and I nod, trying not to show my disappointment in his looking away from my eyes "Of course," I say quietly "It's the first one, we ever danced to." He smiles at me, clearly surprised, "Right. I wasn't sure that you'd remember that."
Peeta laughs lightly, but he looks suddenly uneasy, I can't account for this but without thinking I say, "How could I forget something like that? It was one of the few things about our "engagement" that wasn't staged. One of the few moments that really belonged to us." Peeta raises his eyebrows, and his expression displays even more confusion
"Us…?" and the way he looks at me, causes me to look down and stammer. "W-w-well. I mean, one of the moments that was real. That actually…meant something." I glance back up and he is nodding but his face is turned away from me now. Why do I always feel like no matter what I do or say it's wrong?
Instead of trying to talk, I just lean my head against his shoulder, as he moves us lazily to the music. I smell his scent. Glance up at his hair and think about my fingers running through it lazily. He is humming gently along with the song, and I feel his heart against my cheek and am just thinking about what it would be like to stay in this moment, with him. Freeze it, and live in it forever, the same way he said that last day before the quell when we stayed on the roof and ended up watching the sunset, when I open my eyes and notice that I am looking into the blue eyes of the red head, who is staring at me, very curiously.
My head shoots up and I am looking back at Peeta, who feels the startle of my movement. "What's wrong?" He asks, without stopping the gentle sway. And I realize now that I am not moved or amused by his blue eyed look of confused innocence, no matter how earnest it seems. I am simply angered, with the memory of watching him dance with that girl all night, causing sharp pains to shoot through me.
"Nothing," I say, lying but slip my hands off of his shoulders, and pull myself away from his grasp turning to march away and walk up the stairs.
"Katniss?!" Peeta says and he is leaping in front of me blocking my stride.
"Leave me alone, Peeta." I huff and push past him, but then I feel him gripping my arm forcefully. "Let me go!"
"No!" And he is pulling me towards him until once again my hands are pressed against his chest and he is staring at me with a growing look of concern, "Not until you tell me what's wrong."
For a moment, I actively try to ease my arm away from him, angry that he is so easily able to hold me here, but he doesn't budge, even starts to smile at me amused. After a few moments, and the sudden awareness that people all around are watching us, some of them noisily gawking and even pointing, I finally stop and just stare up at Peeta fuming. "Are you done?" He says lightly, loosening my arm. I nod petulantly and then he lets me go. "Now, tell me what's wrong?" Peeta says and I feel like such an idiot as I feel the growing urge to cry.
What's wrong is that you've spent the last few weeks dancing and walking around town with some other girl. And then all of tonight dancing with her. And you've barely spoken to me. And I miss you. I really, really miss you. I think, but I can't figure out how to formulate those thoughts into reasonable words that make any sense. So instead, I just bark out the only question that I can think of
"Who is that redheaded girl?!"
