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Life under house arrest—“Stay at Home Order, Katniss,” Peeta always corrected whenever she referred to it as such, “We’re not under arrest for anything.”—Fine. Life under their state’s Stay at Home Order with Peeta was far from the worst-case scenario she could have concocted when the world went into lockdown mode. While she never foresaw her casual weekend-with-the-boyfriend trip turn from her usual two-day visit to an almost three-month visit, Katniss couldn’t complain. The tiny apartment was exploding with all types of baked goods—different breads from recipes Peeta’s dreamt of trying for years and finally had the time to “give them the attention they deserve,”; the sweets she’d randomly point to in his fancy cookbooks and challenge him to make for her; and their many attempts (and failures) at replicating what they saw while binging The Great British Bake Off on Netflix. She’d never been as well-fed in her life as she’d been at Peeta’s for the past three months and she loved it.
Life was pretty good at Peeta’s. Great, actually. And despite the world crumbling around them and her anxiety taking a huge nosedive due to her fear of her mother and sister possibly contacting Co-vid while working their long hours at the hospital, Katniss couldn’t help feeling content here in their little nest of sweets they created.
On days where she finished with her classes on a good note, the apartment still smelling like fresh baked bread and coffee Peeta made that morning, Katniss would curl up on the couch, the soft blanket she kept at his place wrapped around her, and imagine this being their life always—Peeta painting out on the small balcony, humming to himself; Katniss writing at her desk inside, trying to figure out the notes to the tune in her head. Both subtly glancing at each other and smiling when they were caught (they always got caught). She imagined them walking hand-in-hand, after, to the pizza place around the block that sold the greasiest garlic knots known to man, pointing out the new window displays from the tiny shops as they went. Later, they’d return to their place and argue over what movie to watch until one of them caved, both knowing they’d end up tangled under the blankets, food and movie forgotten.
The image of them living together was comforting. It felt wonderful. Katniss couldn’t stop the silly grin on her face as she thought about it, thinking about how right it felt, living here with Peeta.
They’d only discussed living situations once, a few years back when Peeta got offered a position at an art museum in the city that was two hours away from their hometown. The offer was too good to pass up, they agreed. It’d be stupid not to take it. “It’s only two hours,” she reminded him when he still seemed unsure about the distance, her hands cupping his face, her body pressed against him in his lap. “Remember in college, when we were, like, 8 hours apart? Or when you studied abroad for a year in Italy for your Master’s program? We survived that and we’ll survive this.”
“Yeah, but those all had an end date,” he argued. “This is my career. There’s no end date in sight.”
“And there won’t be,” she reassured. “They’re lucky to have you.”
“But what about us?” he asked, his hands rubbing up and down her back. “I know it’s a couple hours, but with work and our everyday lives—we won’t see each other as often, especially when you get into musical season.”
“I’m not worried,” she said, kissing him on the forehead, her hands running through his curly hair. “We’ll make it work.”
And they did. They found him a cheap apartment in a small village where you walked everywhere for things you needed, music playing at almost every corner, the train station nearby for him to take into the city for work. They alternated months and weekends on who visited whom, Facetiming every night before dinner, before bed. It wasn’t ideal, and the weeks sometimes felt so long, the desire to feel his warm arms around her at night hitting her hard at times, but she always seemed to survive until the weekend, tackling him when she’d see him on Friday nights, throwing bags on the ground, squealing in glee when he’d pick her up and carry her inside, their lips locked together.
They’d been dating since junior year in high school, but everything still felt fresh and new, especially when he kissed her. Held her hand. She wasn’t sure if that lingering feeling of newness was because of the distance, though. Most of their years together had been living hours apart. If they moved in together, would that feeling go away? The few months living together didn’t seem to diminish the excited flutter she felt when he’d curl up next to her on the couch, or how happy she felt when he brought home things she had mentioned in passing, like needing more tampons or wishing she’d remembered to bring more hair ties, having misplaced the six she brought with her for her supposed two-day visit days into her Stay at Home Order stay. In fact, their government-mandated time together only seemed to further convince her that they could make living together work and still come out strong.
There was still a wiggle of doubt, though. Part of her worried maybe this was moving too fast, or that he was perfectly fine with their hours-apart living situation. Moving in together was a big deal. It was the step couples made before marriage. Was she ready for that? God, she wasn’t sure. Then there was her job to worry about, the kids she’s taught for years. What would her students do if she moved on, wasn’t their teacher anymore? Would they miss her?
Prim thought them moving in together was a great idea. “It’s about time,” her sister said during their weekly Facetime date. “Your relationship is a fourth grader, Katniss. A fourth grader,” she stressed. “I think that’s long enough to move in together.”
“I know, I know,” she said quietly, hoping Peeta couldn’t hear them from the front room. “But what about my job? This year I qualify for tenure and with the world turning to shit, job security is pretty important.”
“Please,” Prim scoffed. “I bet Rue can get you any choral position in the state. My girl’s got connections.”
Katniss gave her sister a look. “You’re supposed to talk me out of this, Primrose. I can’t just leave you and mom—my job!” She fiddled with the end of her braid. “My students need me. I can’t just leave that for a guy.”
“Do you honestly hear yourself? ‘For a guy,’” her sister mimicked. “Need I remind you that your and Peeta’s relationship is the same age as a fourth grader? God, I asked Rue to move in a month after knowing her. You two move way too slow.”
“So you think I should ask him?” Katniss wrapped her arms around her legs, tucking her knees under her chin. “Is it rude to ask if I can move in? It is his place.”
Prim rolled her eyes. “God, you two can be too much sometimes,” and with that, her sister hung up.
That was days ago and all Katniss kept thinking about was asking him. She thought of doing it in a cute way, like with her toothbrush or maybe joke about her needing space in his closet for her things, but she already kept half her belongings here. She had a toothbrush next to his and drawers for her socks and underwear. Peeta had always kept obvious space in the closet for her shirts and dress pants for when she came straight from work. Somehow without her realizing it, without the mandated Stay at Home Order, Katniss had already started moving in. Maybe Peeta was just waiting for her to mention it.
So later that day when she finished with her classes on Zoom and he came in from painting on the balcony, his hands still a bit sticky with orange acrylic paint, she pulled him down toward her, the couch far lower than his tall frame, making their angle awkward but she didn’t care. She kissed him, cupping his face in her hands, his cheeks warm from the early summer sun. When she finally let him go, she smiled and told him to sit, crawling into his lap when he did.
“I’m not complaining,” Peeta joked, his sticky paint hands leaving finger prints along her skin, “but what was that all about?”
“Let’s move in together,” Katniss told him softly, biting her bottom lip. “I want to live with you, Peeta, and not just while we’re under house arrest.”
Peeta’s smile could brighten any room and right now, it blinded her. “Stay at Home Order,” he jokingly corrected, rubbing a thumb along her cheek. “You’re really ready for that? To take that step with me?”
“I think I have been for awhile,” she confessed, leaning into his touch. “I want to live with you for always. Is that—is that okay with you?”
He laughed and pressed his forehead against hers. “That is perfectly fine with me, Katniss.”