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The day after the wind storm, Katniss called in sick from work, got in her car, drove to the edge of town, through a wrought iron gate, down a narrow, winding path, and parked by the grassy curb. She got out, and despite her singlemindedness, walked calmly toward two non-descript headstones in the middle of the field.
It was still early, not quite 7:30a.m., yet the cemetery was fairly uncluttered. No stray branches or torn up bouquets were visible, and the garbage bins sat upright and empty. Nevertheless, Katniss brushed her hands across the dirt in front of the graves. She hardly ever came to visit her parents – they were dead, after all – yet she felt the need to do something. The storm had been a violent one: uprooting trees, knocking over power lines, tearing shingles off roofs. Surely, there were people who needed her help much more than two corpses, buried safely in the ground.
She wiped her hands on her sweatpants, and pulled her knees up to her chest. The irony of that thought sent a twinge through her body. Luke Everdeen had died in a mine collapse; it had almost seemed cruel to dig him out of the earth, only to put him back in again, but Dahlia had been adamant. It was the first time she had raised her voice above a soft murmur since her husband’s death, so Katniss had relented.
The request seemed to have taken all Dahlia’s energy; not long after the funeral, her movements began to slow. She went back to work at the hospital, but left early more and more often, and would retreat to her bed while the sun was still up, sleeping through dinner. Katniss’ worry had quickly flared into anger when 12-year-old Prim explained that Mama was getting ready to see Papa again. Dropping her burger, she had barged into her mother’s room.
Her mother had lain still under the blankets during the rant, her eyes closed. It only infuriated Katniss even more. Prim had followed her sister, and was tugging on her sleeve, trying to calm her down. Tired of her mother’s unresponsiveness, she stomped back to the dinner table. Prim rejoined her a few minutes later.
“She said you’d understand one day,” Prim has said. Katniss had huffed, and gotten up to wash her plate.
The memory left her in a somber mood. She checked her watch; she had been here for about an hour. She could probably still make it to work. It would be the perfect thing to help her shake off the gloom.
Leaving the cemetery, she was dismayed to see the long line of cars making their way into downtown Panem. She tapped her steering wheel impatiently as she inched forward. Another driver honked their horn aggressively, and she resisted the urge to scream at them. She had noticed the downed power lines and the dull traffic lights on the over, but the streets were still fairly empty then. It was a wonder she had managed to make any progress at all during rush hour.
The noise seemed to have awakened the baser instincts of others stuck in traffic; soon, there was a cacophony of blaring horns. Katniss grit her teeth. She could feel a migraine lurking at the base of her skull. Cursing her own sentimentality for getting her into this mess, she turned her blinker on, and focused on the end of the block. She would turn into the residential neighbourhood, close her eyes for awhile, then cut through to the other side. Or, she thought, as the throbbing made its way to her jaw, maybe she would just wait it out.
By the time she made the turn, her eyelids were growing heavy. Nevertheless, she made her way deeper into the neighbourhood, away from the noise. She didn’t know why she wasn’t stopping, only that she had yet to find a suitable place to park, despite the empty streets around her. She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to ignore the urge to close them completely. There was a large tree up ahead that looked like it might offer some shade…
She heard a dull thud, followed by cursing. Immediately, she pulled over and looked around. There was a man kneeling on a rooftop, looking at the ground. She hesitated for a moment, then got out of the car, and made her way toward him. It was hard to see him clearly; the migraine was making her squint, and he was framed by the sun. He seemed to have noticed her though, because he called out:
“Excuse me! Could you lend me a hand?”
As Katniss approached his front yard, she saw something sprawled across his driveway: a ladder. She looked back up at the man, and noticed a chunk of shingles missing from the roof.
“You really should wait for a professional,” she yelled up to him. She grasped the ladder and held it upright, leaning it against the wall of the house, close to where the man was now standing. She made sure the base was sturdy, before signalling the man to climb down.
“No power,” the man replied. He turned around and gingerly placed his foot on a rung. He held still for a moment, then continued. “And they probably have enough on their plate from the storm. Replacing a few shingles isn’t too difficult.” He stepped off the ladder onto the pavement, and turned to offer Katniss his hand. “Peeta Mellark. Thank you…?”
“Katniss,” she replied, grasping his hand.
It was instantaneous. Katniss felt like an electric current had run up her arm, and straight into her brain. Her eyes widened as she took in his blond hair, bright blue eyes, his strong, clean-shaven jaw. His mouth had fallen open, and she wondered faintly if he could feel her pounding pulse in her wrist, so close to where his fingers were grazing.
They stood in silence, staring at each other, until Peeta seemed to shake himself out of a daze. He dropped her hand, and Katniss immediately missed the feeling of his soft, warm skin against hers.
“I, um,” he stammered, running a hand through his hair. He gave a deep exhale, then looked up and smiled at her. “Thank you, again, Katniss. Would you, uh, like a bite to eat before you go?”
“I…” She hesitated. Instinct told her to run as far away as possible from this man, and never look back. Yet, there was another part of her that wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in his arms and never let go. “I’m not feeling well, actually,” she blurted out.
Peeta’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well in that case, I definitely can’t let you go. Come in and rest a little while. I wouldn’t want you getting into an accident or anything.” He offered his hand again. Katniss looked at it. His couch would certainly be more comfortable than her car… A particularly strong throb at her temples made up her mind. She took his hand. The heaviness in her head seemed to recede, as if the beast that was her migraine was as comforted by his touch as she was.
He pushed his front door open and lead her in. Katniss welcomed the respite from the sun. He led her to the living room and gestured to the couch. “Make yourself at home.” He squeezed her hand before letting go. “Would you like some water? Aspirin, maybe?”
“Yes, thanks,” she replied. She sank onto the couch, letting her head loll backwards, and sighed. She started rolling her shoulders, then shifting her hips, trying to get comfortable. She had just figured out a cosy position when Peeta spoke.
“Here you are.”
She opened her eyes to see him setting two glasses of water on the coffee table. He pulled a bottle of aspirin out of his pocket, and popped a tablet into his mouth before offering another to her in the lid. She smiled gratefully and took the medication. After she swallowed, she asked, “Are you okay?”
Peeta shrugged. “Just a bit of a headache. And… uh…” He bit his lip, and Katniss found herself mesmerized by the sight. “I have some joint problems.” She nodded absentmindedly, staring at his shapely thighs, then snapped her head up to look into his eyes again.
“And you still thought it was a good idea to get on the roof?”
He shrugged again. One of his hands began to caress his knee. “Like I said, someone had to do it.”
“Still,” she insisted. She watched him massage his leg, trying to figure out a way to express her concern without overstepping. They had just met after all. “You’re lucky I was driving by.”
“That I am,” he replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She looked up, and couldn’t help but smile, too. She closed her eyes and leaned back again. “I should probably –”
“Stay.” She felt a hand on her thigh, and couldn’t help but sigh again as her body drained of tension. “Just for a few minutes. I’ve got some housekeeping to do anyway. You won’t bother me.”
“If you’re sure…” she mumbled, but she could already feel herself drifting off.
*
Katniss reluctantly blinked her eyes open. She felt… soft, as if she were still dreaming. She couldn’t remember what she had been doing before she fell asleep, but it didn’t matter. She felt incredibly well-rested, her limbs loose, her head clear. She was warm and comfortable, and she couldn’t resist humming a bit as the arm around her tightened –
Wait.
She jerked backwards so fast, she temporarily lost her vision. She fell forward, her hand landing – shit is this his dick?
A grunt confirmed her suspicions, and she hastily retracted her hand.
“What – oh crap.” When her head stopped swimming, she saw Peeta sitting up on the couch, one hand over his groin, a guilty expression on his face. “Sorry, I, um, just closed my eyes for a minute. Didn’t mean to fall asleep and, uh, cuddle you like that.”
“That’s fine,” she squeaked, and cleared her throat. “I mean, it’s okay. I feel much better now. I should get going.” She was already up, brushing invisible lint off herself, and headed for the door.
“Yeah,” Peeta said. He followed her but stopped in the doorway, watching as she got into her car. “It was nice meeting you Katniss.” He raised his hand in farewell. Katniss acknowledged it with a nod, and left.
“Well then,” she said to herself. A glance at the clock told her it wasn’t quite noon; she had only been asleep for a few hours. As far as she knew, if had drugged her, she would’ve been out for much longer. Something in her gut churned unpleasantly. Peeta has seemed so nice, though… and he had looked genuinely guilty about their… situation. Not to mention he had let her go without protest. No, she decided, it was just her migraine that had knocked her out so quickly. And Peeta was probably tired from working on his roof. There was no reason to think anything untoward about him. After all, it had been a good nap…
The traffic on the main roads had cleared considerably. Katniss shook her head, clearing her thoughts, then winced. While her head was feeling much better, there was now some tightness in her shoulders, probably from the awkward sleeping position. She mentally mapped out the neighbourhood from what she had seen on her way to the cemetery; there was a café a couple blocks away. She would eat a late lunch, then head home for some quality time with her foam roller.
She pulled into the parking lot of a small plaza, only to see that most of the shops were still closed due to the lack of power. Her stomach grumbled in protest. Nevertheless, she got out of her car to stretch. Her back was starting to ache a little as well, and no matter how she maneuvered her body, she couldn’t seem to relieve the stiffness. She reached into her pocket to text Prim for some advice, but couldn’t find her phone. She tried the other side. Nothing. She crawled back into her car. Her cupholders were empty. She hadn’t even brought her wallet, so determined she was to reach her destination that morning. She knew she wouldn’t leave without her phone, though, especially after such a big storm. She patted her pants pockets again, and paused. What if…?
*
Katniss wasn’t completely certain she wasn’t losing her mind as she pulled into the driveway of the large suburban home. She almost hoped Peeta wasn’t home, even if it meant never getting her phone back, but instinctively, she knew he would be. Bracing herself for another awkward encounter, she raised her hand, and rang the doorbell.
It was the second time seeing him, but the air still left her lungs when a ruffled blond head peeked out from behind the door. Her shoulders sagged in unexpected relief, and his face split into a wide grin, before seeming to think better of it. He opened the door wider.
“Katniss.”
“Hi,” she breathed, then cleared her throat.
“Hi.”
They stared at each in silence. Katniss’ eyes subconsciously trailed across Peeta’s broad chest, the bulge of his arms in his t-shirt. The memory of being held by him drifted unbidden into her mind, and she almost moaned aloud. She covered it up by coughing again. “Uh, I think I may have left my phone here?”
Peeta’s brows furrowed and he bit his lip. “I haven’t seen it,” he answered. He looked over his shoulder. “Would… would you like to come in and look?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Without thinking, she squeezed past him in the entryway, her hand trailing across his stomach. She heard him inhale sharply, and her gut flipped pleasantly.
She made her way to the couch and started flipping cushions over. Peeta stood nearby, his hands in his pockets.
“Got you,” she muttered to herself, as she pulled her phone out of where it was wedged next to the arm rest. She straightened and turned to Peeta, who was staring at her as if hypnotized.
“Um, thanks,” she said, and he nodded distractedly. He was staring straight into her eyes now. She thought it would be unsettling, but she found herself staring right back. She couldn’t tell what shade of blue his were, or if there were flecks of other colours. All she knew was that it felt like wading into a warm, secluded spring, her worries floating away with every step…
She hadn’t realized she’d been walking toward him until her ankle twisted, and the sharp pain shot up her leg. She flailed as her balance left her. Immediately, Peeta’s arms were snug around her torso, and she was right back to staring deeply into his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
Katniss let out a breath, and she swore she could see Peeta breathe it in. She chuckled shakily. “I don’t think the universe wants me to leave.”
His eyes darkened. “You… you think?”
She blinked at him, then tried to steady herself enough to put most of her weight on her left leg. “I…” She gripped his shoulders as she wobbled slightly. Peeta didn’t let go. “I was kidding.”
Peeta gulped. “I’m not.” He moved to sit on the couch again, bringing Katniss with him. He let go of her body, but grabbed her hands. Katniss looked down at them. Subconsciously, her thumb brushed over his knuckles and he returned the gesture.
He took a deep breath. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but… I didn’t mean to fall asleep earlier. I was just watch –” He stuttered and averted his eyes. “I was… watching you sleep. Not in a creepy way! Just… you looked so peaceful.” He squeezed her hands. “And then I woke up, and I felt so light, like everything was how it was supposed to be. And when you left, that feeling left. Everything seemed like such a challenge. And my leg…” At this he looked up again, and Katniss couldn’t help but meet his gaze. “I lost my left leg when I was younger. I haven’t been bothered by any phantom pains in a long time, but after you left…” he trailed off. “I didn’t really get much work done,” he concluded.
She bit her lip. “That… that’s just a coincidence, Peeta.”
“But you feel it too,” he insisted, and scooted closer to her. “Tell me you don’t.”
“I do,” she replied automatically, then cursed herself internally. How was she supposed to convince him now? “But… “
“I’m not asking you to marry me or anything,” Peeta said quickly. She blinked at him, and rushed to continue. “Just… something brought us together. I’m sure of it. Can’t we just see where this goes?”
“You don’t even know me,” she said, but without any heat. Peeta was tilting his head toward her, and she found herself mirroring his actions.
He chuckled. “That’s the point of a date, isn’t it?” he asked. “To get to know each other?”
She couldn’t stare into his eyes anymore; he was too close. She closed here eyes, and swore she could feel his eyelashes brushing her face as he blinked. A lock of dark hair came loose from her braid. Peeta brushed it back behind her ear; they both shivered.
She registered a clock ticking in the background. The only other sound she heard was the soft inhales and exhales as they breathed into each other’s mouths. She timed her breaths with the passing seconds: in, out, in, out.
“You haven’t actually asked me, yet,” she murmured.
He chuckled lowly. “Katniss…”
With surprising force, she pressed forward, sealing her lips to Peeta’s. She felt him fall backward, and shot an arm out to brace them. He shifted so he was leaning back on one arm, the other tangling in her hair to pull her down with him so she was straddling of his eyes. As he pulled his out arm from under him, his hand found hers, and squeezed. She rocked into him, and savoured his tongue, his smell, the light-headedness, before tearing her lips from his.
“Everdeen,” she said, breathing heavily. She sat up, pulling Peeta with her, but remained in his lap. She tucked more loose hair behind her ears and straightened her shirt. Peeta grinned at her dopily. “My last name is Everdeen.”