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Peeta was cooking dinner tonight and was currently at the stove, stirring a big pot of broth and spices that was beginning to smell very tasty. It was his turn in the rotation, but more often than not, they ended up cooking together because they enjoyed the quality time. Katniss, especially, enjoyed watching him cook. He was so disciplined, so serious about it, and so cute in his apron. Sometimes she sat at the kitchen table, head resting between her hands, just watching him, but she also liked to be helpful. Today, she was slicing vegetables for the stew he was making‒a nice, hearty one, perfect for chilly days such as this.
Slicing the vegetables had become a mindless task for Katniss; she didn’t often pay much attention to the size of each chunk or bother with keeping them uniform like Peeta would, and more often than not, she just ended up lost in observing him. Damn it all if love wasn’t frustrating!
This evening, she was particularly distracted. Why? She wasn’t sure. Maybe because it had been nearly a week since anything more than kissing had happened between them. It was the longest they’d gone since their relationship had...progressed.
As she was considering the best way to broach the subject to Peeta, leaning toward coming onto him directly‒she was more a woman of action, after all‒she felt the sharp sting of the knife slicing into her finger. She let out a little yelp.
In an instant, Peeta had dropped the ladle into the pot and was rushing to her. He snatched her hand up, clamping rougher around the wrist than he normally would. Gentler, he slid his hand upward, wrapping his fingers around her knuckle. He softly pushed down on the wounded digit, separating it from the rest and extending it for a better look. Bright red bubbled up at the tip.
Katniss heard Peeta sigh in relief. “It doesn’t look serious,” he said, though he didn’t let go of her hand. He eyed the blood bubbling up on the pad of her finger with concern and...fascination?
She scoffed lightly. “What? You’re not gonna suck on it, are you?”
Peeta let out a throaty laugh. “Of course not. What am I, a vampire?” She joined him in a laugh over his reference to those strange, undead creatures of old folklore that they’d seen in a movie once. “Why? Would you find that romantic?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Ew, gross, Peeta,” she muttered, shifting her gaze away.
Peeta chuckled. “Hey, some people do.”
Katniss could only imagine the kind of people who did. Maybe people from the Capitol, the former Capitol, that is. Or maybe those bloodsucker lovers. “Not me,” she said.
But then again…
“At least...not...when there’s blood on it.” She paused. “But if you...wanted to…” She glanced away, her voice growing softer, weaker, almost squeaky, “maybe sometime...when there’s not...you could…”
Peeta smiled to himself. “Noted.” He then released her hand and turned away.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
He turned back, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’m going to tend to your cut,” he said matter-of-factly, though there was an amused lilt at the end of the statement as if he meant to add ‘silly’ to it.
“You don’t have to,” she protested.
“Shh.” Peeta leaned in, tapping the end of her nose affectionately. “I want to.”
He wants to?
She gazed up at him, and as if reading her thoughts, he added sincerely, “I like taking care of you.”
Katniss’s cheeks heated up, despite the much more intimate things they had been doing as of late, and Peeta went for a clean cloth and the first aid kit. He returned and took a seat on the stool next to her, and he picked up her hand again.
“Really, Peeta, you don’t have to,” she told him as he held her hand and pressed the cloth against the tip of her finger. “It’s just a little cut. Not like I’m half-dead in an arena.”
“You’re not caked in mud, either. And you’re fully clothed,” Peeta quipped.
Katniss smirked a little. It was much easier now to make little comments like this about their experience in The Hunger Games. The mention of anything remotely related to the subject wasn’t so triggering anymore. Plus, they’d decided not to try and forget it ever happened‒that was impossible, anyway‒but rather, to focus on the good that came out of the whole situation, them being together, and more importantly, the state of the world now. It was no longer a place where children and parents had to live in fear. Katniss had been thinking about that a lot lately...
When Peeta began applying antibiotic cream, Katniss winced‒despite the small size of the cut, it stung a little. He apologized and blew on it before rubbing it in. And then, he started talking...
“Why do some people think that’s a good method for treating a cut, anyway?” he asked.
She knew what he was doing, trying to distract her from the pain, slight as it might be. But he was back on the sucking her finger thing again…
“I don’t know.” She one-arm shrugged. “I’m not even a healer like my mom, and I know that’s disgusting.”
“Are you saying my mouth is disgusting?” he teased.
“No,” she answered immediately with a roll of her eyes. His wasn’t, not at all. “Just that the mouth is filled with bacteria.”
“So, you’re saying I have a dirty mouth, then?” Peeta grinned. He was clearly enjoying this way too much.
“Yes, I am.” She smugly shoved him with her ‘good’ hand, though the corners of her lips had involuntarily tilted. “Everyone does.”
Peeta pressed his lips together and nodded. “You have a point. Well...you’re all done.”
As usual, Peeta’s verbal skills had come in handy. She’d completely forgotten the situation and hadn’t even realized he’d already wrapped her finger in gauze.
He held up the bandaged finger to survey his handiwork, and then, to her great surprise, he leaned in, touching his lips tenderly against the gauze covering her fingertip. “There. Is that better?”
She nodded mutely, sucking in a sharp breath as he moved down to press his lips against her palm.
He raised his head. “And that?”
She stared into those deep pools of blue she so adored. “Perfect.”
They smiled at one another, leaning in at practically the same time. But just prior to their lips touching, Peeta pulled back and pressed his fingers against his lips. “Oops. Wouldn’t want you to have to touch my dirty mouth without a barrier there,” he muttered through his fingers.
Katniss could see his dimples peeking out in mirth. Typical Peeta and that mouth of his. Well, she knew she’d never win in a battle of verbal banter, but there were other ways of shutting him up...
With a smirk, she drew his hand away. One corner of those naughty lips was curled up mischievously, daring her to act. And so she did. Grabbing him suddenly by the collar, she pulled him fully in, their mouths finally meeting in the middle in a crushing kiss.