Freedom on Your Tongue: Chapter 2
Title: Freedom On Your Tongue
Author: Kiki
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing/Character(s): Peeta/Katniss
Rating: M
Word count: 2700
Spoilers: tHG-MJ
Summary: Katniss enters the games alone, wins them alone, and must face the consequences of her actions alone. Peeta has other plans.
Disclaimer. None of this is mine.
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Chapter 2: Welcome Home
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Peeta smoothed his hair back then pushed it forward slightly, trying to remember the exact way it sat the day Starch Blakiston told him he looked cute. It was also the day Imma Fieldon kissed him behind the school maintenance shed, so there had to be something to the words.
Had it been parted on the opposite side? Was it shorter then? Did any of that matter?
Katniss had never looked at his hair before. Or any part of him, really. She actually made a diligent effort to never look at him at all.
He sighed and ran some of Bannick's product through his hair. His older brother might bruise him for it later, but at least his hair wouldn't have that stupid cowlick thing that would give Katniss the impression of a dorky twelve-year-old.
It was early enough that the streets were still busy. People were heading in and out of the main town, into shops or out to the mines.
Would she even be awake?
He hadn't been able to sleep past dawn since he was seven and if he waited around at home, the flips his stomach kept doing would probably make him pass out and then his cowardly side would take over and another decade would pass before he got the courage to approach Katniss. Then he'd have to wait till she survived another death fight for an excuse to talk to her.
As he entered Victor's Village, Gale Hawthorne was leaving, walking briskly on the other side of the street.
Peeta couldn't help the way his steps faltered.
At least he knew Katniss was awake.
Unless she'd just gotten to sleep after a long night with Gale…
He shut his eyes as if that would stop the images his brain was tormenting him with. He'd seen the way Katniss treated Gale when she arrived home, how she'd stepped right off the train and straight into Gale's arms. Well, that might not be exactly how it happened. She might have clutched Prim to her for a long minute, then kissed her mother and greeted a few other people, but all he could remember was that somewhere in there Gale had wrapped her in his arms and Katniss had buried her face in his shoulder like that was her home.
But it didn't matter.
She hadn't chosen Gale. They weren't married. They weren't even engaged. And that meant he still had a shot.
He waved politely to the boy across the street, summoning a small smile.
It's not like he was waiting for Gale to head off to the mines so he could sneak in and steal his girl.
It only looked that way.
So there was no reason not to be friendly.
Gale scowled, his lips twisting in disgust before he looked away and quickened his pace in a determined effort to ignore Peeta.
Well.
That was unpleasant.
Peeta had no idea why girls were always throwing themselves at Gale. Sure he was tall and svelte and his face was all perfectly chiselled and that constant brooding demeanour probably made him seem mysterious and attractive, but…whatever.
He was still kind of an asshole.
Everything changed the minute he stepped into Victor's Village. It was like another world, from the perfectly manicured hedges to the beautifully cultivated flowers there was little sign he was still in District 12. The Capitol kept the roads and utilities maintained here. The rest of the district had thought it was wasted on an old drunk like Haymitch.
People weren't saying anything like that now, not with the horrors of the last Hunger Games still fresh in their minds.
The Everdeen's house loomed above him and cast a rather foreboding shadow. The smell of fresh paint was almost overpowering. The Capitol must have wanted everything perfect for their new victor.
He knocked too loud and too long before he could lose his nerve. He juggled the package around so that he could wipe his hands, which had become damp with perspiration. This was such a stupid idea. He was only going to embarrass himself. What was he thinking?
And then she was in front of him.
Katniss Everdeen.
The girl he'd loved for as long as he could remember.
She was wearing the same brown leggings and oversized shirt he'd often seen her in before. A hunting belt was wrapped low on her hips. The only thing missing was her leather boots. Her leggings covered most of her feet though, despite the fact they'd been rolled up a few times.
It was hard to remember that she was so small when she always took up so much of his vision.
Her dark hair was in its usual braid and even messier than usual. The brows over her sable eyes pulled together in irritation.
"Yes?"
He must have been staring like an idiot while his tongue refused to move.
"Um-Yeah. Hi Katniss. I'm Peeta. We're in the same-"
"Class," she cut him off. "I know. We've been in the same class for nine years."
"Eleven," he corrected automatically.
The line between her brows deepened in bafflement. "Eleven…" she repeated slowly.
He almost laughed at himself. He'd played this moment in his head a million times. It usually went better than this.
"I just wanted to give you this." He held out the package. "It's a cake," he continued when she seemed reluctant to take it.
She regarded it suspiciously, as if the box might contain a wild animal.
Though, come to think of it, she'd probably be happier with the wild animal.
He opened the lid to show her. Welcome Home was scrawled across the top in his neatest calligraphy, surrounded by flowers of every frosting shade he had on hand. It was more ornate than the ones he usually made, mostly because he knew Katniss wouldn't be particularly interested in it, but someone else would. "It's Prim's favourite."
Since the Hunger Games, Prim came into the bakery most mornings. She always took her time, complimenting him on the prettiest cakes and asking how they made some of the different buns before buying a loaf for her family.
"Oh." Katniss's face lightened like he knew it would. "Prim!" she called over her shoulder.
She stepped aside and motioned for Peeta to come in. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. It probably wasn't fair to use Katniss's only weakness against her, but compared to his brothers' exploits this was pretty mild.
Prim walked up behind Katniss, her face open and clear in a way her older sister's was never. Unlike Katniss she had on new clothes, a pretty peach-coloured dress, similar to what many of the townies wore.
"Peeta's brought us a cake. Do you think you could fetch my purse?"
"No," he interrupted. "I mean, it's a gift. That's not…You don't pay for gifts," he explained softly, already blushing.
Katniss was frowning again, but Prim was clearly happy when Peeta handed her the box. "Is that pink marble? That's my favourite, you know. And it has the most gorgeous frosting I've ever seen! I can't wait to try some."
Katniss tore her gaze away from Peeta to smile at Prim. Her little sister's moods were always contagious. "Have some now then."
"For breakfast?" Prim asked uncertainly.
Katniss shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"
Prim giggled as Katniss led them into the kitchen.
Peeta followed, not quite sure that he was supposed to, but feeling braver when no one stopped him. He took his time, soaking in most expensive house he'd ever been inside. It was all beautiful and immaculate, but there was something almost clinical about it. It barely seemed lived in, maybe because it hadn't been for a lifetime.
Katniss sat at the breakfast bar, watching in amusement as Prim hoisted herself onto the counter top to crawl around in search for bowls in the cupboards above. "We haven't really had time to sort through things," Prim explained.
Peeta took the stool beside Katniss and tried not to stare at her. "I saw your last interview with Caesar Flickerman. You were really good." It had been broadcast the night before Katniss arrived home, even though it must have been recorded before then.
Katniss gave him a strange look. "I doubt that."
"It's true." She had been good, bright and giggly and nothing at all like the girl sitting beside him. He liked this Katniss better, but this Katniss probably wasn't fit for audience consumption. "Did you get to see much of the Capitol after the…games." He hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. He couldn't believe he was having his first real conversation with Katniss and he'd just brought up the most terrible experience of her life. Even Prim gave him a warning glance.
Katniss didn't show any reaction to the reminder, just leaned forward to cross her arms on the bench. "No. They fixed me up, gave me a dinner, and sent me on my way."
He didn't know what to say now, afraid something else foolish might fall out of his mouth.
"I'll be going there again after the tour," she continued reluctantly. "I might have to stay longer." Her hands clenched where they were wrapped around her elbows, ragged nails biting into her skin.
He really wished he could grab her hands and pull them away from the angry red marks they were making. It made him think about those ugly rumours he didn't want to believe. He studied her closer. Her eyes were wide and empty, lost to whatever evil thought held her captive. The dark smudges under her eyes were deep and troubling.
He leaned forward and plucked something caught in her hair. Closer, he could see it was a twig.
"Have you been hunting already this morning?"
"No," she answered shortly, snatching the twig from his fingers and throwing it towards the sink.
"Choose your piece, guys," Prim interrupted in an overly bright voice. "I've got first claim on the violet flowers though!"
"Hmmn." Peeta rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pretending to take the question very seriously. "I think I'll have to go with the…orange flowers."
"Good choice." Prim played along, nodding in approval. She handed over the bowls. "Orange for Peeta. Green for Katniss."
Katniss smiled faintly at the cake.
They would have eaten in awkward silence if it wasn't for Prim who chatted easily with him.
It wasn't until they started talking about the Capitol that Katniss even showed some sign that she was listening.
"And I'd do anything to go, I just want to see the way they dress and body mods in person once."
"Family's not allowed," Katniss insisted, as if this was a conversation they'd had many times before.
"I know," Prim sighed. "It's just all those shiny jewels and scales…"
Peeta was certain he'd seen some of the career victors on television with their family, but decided now probably wasn't the time to bring that up. "I heard you and your mother were opening up a clinic of sorts, Prim."
The smallest Everdeen beamed. "No, not really. It's just that we have all this money now, so we can afford enough supplies to help more people."
Katniss did something that made her spoon clatter loudly, cutting off all talk and making the others turn towards her. "I have errands to run, " she announced abruptly. "Do you want to come with me?"
It took a second to realise she was talking to him. "Sounds good," he replied, desperately trying not to sound overeager.
"Thank you for the cake, Peeta," Prim said in her most polite voice. Katniss was already moving quickly towards the front door and Peeta could only wave back at her as he hurried to follow.
Katniss kept a quick pace and he was briefly grateful his longer legs meant he could keep up without jogging. He struggled to think of conversation material, so he talked about how good it must be to live in a quiet neighbourhood and how beautiful her new home was, but Katniss remained silent, her expression getting darker with every word.
They were close to the bakery when Katniss suddenly stopped, turning on him.
"Look, can you just tell me what this is all about now?" she demanded.
"What?" he asked, somewhat stunned.
"The visit, the cake, all the talk," she explained, as if she was laying out the clues to an unsolved crime.
Did she know? Was he really that obvious? He fiddled with the edge of his shirt, trying to think of something that didn't make him sound like an obsessed stalker. His brothers were right; he was hopeless with girls.
Her brows were scrunched together again. He wondered if that was common, or if it was just him that annoyed her.
She turned away and started walking, a small sigh leaving her body. "You can tell me," she repeated, gently this time. "I think about it all the time, you know. What I owe you. So if you want something, just tell me."
He caught up to her, swiftly grabbing her arm to stop her. She snatched it back in an almost violent move. The look in her eyes made him flinch.
So stupid. He should have realised she'd be upset about being grabbed from behind.
Katniss bit her lip, looking embarrassed. She continued quickly, trying to cover her reaction, "I get it. You don't have to play games."
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, maybe I'm slow or something, but you're going to have to spell it out."
She searched his face, looking for any hint of deceit.
"The bread…"
"Oh." He immediately realised what she was talking about. Seeing the girl he loved with all of his eleven-year-old heart starving and rifling through bins for a way to feed herself was one of the worst things he'd ever seen and if she hadn't been reaped it still would still be at the top of the list.
"Hold up. You thought I was doing this to work an angle?"
He couldn't quite believe it. Had she really thought he'd come crawling out of the woodwork to prey on her newfound wealth? That he was low enough to use one small act of kindness as leverage? He didn't know whether to be angry or sad that she had so little faith in him.
Then again, they lived in a world where children who were lucky enough not to starve to death were sent away to fight to the death for entertainment, so could he really blame her for being cynical?
"I owe you," she responded simply, some deep feeling leaching the strength from her words. "And I couldn't think of any reason why you'd want to see me…"
Sad, he decided. Definitely sad.
"You don't owe me a thing. And I wanted to see you, because I always want to see you." He said it simply, masking any of the deeper meanings.
Katniss regarded him in confusion. "You don't know me."
"I know," he agreed. "But when you were reaped I was…upset. I always thought that I should get to know you. That I should wave to the girl who sat three seats behind me or ask her how she did on the last test. But then you were leaving and I didn't even have a reason to tell you goodbye or good luck. You were leaving and I couldn't tell you how much I hoped you came back."
She couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I did come back."
"Yep," he said happily, "And I'm not going to miss another opportunity."
"Really?" she asked, her eyebrows rising, humouring him.
He nodded. "And that means I'm going to be around. I'm going to wave to you and ask you how you went on that last exam and we're going to be friends."
She was studying him again, trying to figure him out when there really wasn't all that much to him.
"You would want that?" she asked gravely.
"Yes," he replied, just as serious.
She nodded once. He got the feeling she was only agreeing because she thought she owed him something, but it didn't matter.
He'd take what he could get.
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