the next will never come (part 10/?, hunger games, r)
the next will never come
"It means I'm done. It means I'm free. It means I'll live."
katniss/peeta, katniss/gale, au, r. katniss makes it through her final reaping. part 10 of ?
I’m surprised to find Prim still awake when I finally tiptoe inside. She shuts the small book in her lap and looks at me evenly. “How did the planning go?”
I turn away so she can’t see me blush, but I have to stifle a gasp when I see what a mess my hair has become in the mirror. My lips are red and plump, my cheeks flushed. I look like a different person. “Um, it was good,” I say, hastily pulling my hair out of its braid.
“Yeah, I bet.”
I slip out of my clothes and into a nightshirt, joining her on the bed. She looks at me expectantly, and I frown. “What?”
“Katniss. I’m fourteen. I know what you were doing out there.” Her lips curve up into a knowing smile. “Are you and Gale together?”
I sigh, dropping my head back against the headboard. I feel awkward talking about this with Prim, but I suppose this is better than having to make some sort of announcement. “We…yes. We are together.”
Prim waits for me to elaborate, her smile faltering when I don’t. “You don’t sound very excited about it.”
“No, it’s good,” I assure her. “I’m just tired.”
Prim nods slowly. “I saw you hugging Peeta Mellark tonight,” she says, a hint of accusation in her tone.
Great.
“I wasn’t hugging Peeta,” I correct her. “He hugged me. It’s not…he’s just really friendly.”
“Peeta’s nice,” she agrees. “I don’t know if he’s that nice, though.” She eyes me thoughtfully. “Do you think he likes you?”
I hesitate just a second too long, and Prim’s eyes widen. “Katniss! He does!” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Did he tell you? Does Gale know?”
“No, he didn’t tell me, and no, Gale doesn’t know. Because there’s nothing to know.” I look at her meaningfully. I reach over and tap lightly on the book in her lap, eager to change the subject. “What’s that?”
“Oh.” Prim frowns slightly, her mood turned suddenly somber. “My journal.”
“I didn’t know you had a journal.” For some reason, it bothers me that I didn’t know - though of all Prim’s secrets, a journal isn’t really worth getting worked up about.
She smiles slightly. “I kept it hidden in Buttercup’s bed,” she admits, referring to the pile of blankets in the corner of the room that her ugly orange cat sleeps on. I can’t help but laugh.
“That’s smart. The one place I’d never look.” A yawn overtakes me, and I pull the sheets up to crawl underneath them. “Well, don’t worry, you can keep writing. I’m going to sleep.”
Prim sighs, running her fingers over the worn leather cover. “I’m not writing. I’m…remembering. Things about Astrid.” She pauses, picking at a cracker in the leather with her fingernail. “Now that she’s in the top eight, I’ll have to talk about her to everyone.”
The top eight. There was so much going on tonight that I’d completely forgotten. Things have been quiet since the day those Capital reporters showed up on our doorstep, but this is different. A top eight interview is official. Prim can’t hide behind the window curtains this time.
“I don’t want to tell them about her, Katniss,” Prim says miserably, in a little voice that breaks my heart. “I don’t want them to know her. They don’tdeserve to. They think she’s just this…girl.”
I sit up and wrap my arm around her, resting my chin on the top of her head. “I know.” I rub my hand up and down her back, hoping it will soothe her. “Would it help if…you told me about her first?” I ask hesitantly.
Prim pulls away and pulls a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe at her nose. “You want to know about Astrid?”
I nod. More than anything, I want to know about the girl who was special enough to capture my sister’s heart. The girl whose death could break her. “I do, yeah.”
“Okay,” she agrees quietly.
Prim tells me about Astrid’s favorite color (purple), her favorite food (a sweet potato casserole that her mother only makes on special occasions), her favorite class in school (math, and she wants to manage the books for her parents’ flower shop when she’s older.) She tells me about the way Astrid’s freckles grow darker in the summertime, how they fade away during the cold winter months. She tells me about Astrid’s silly sense of humor, how they’d whisper puns to one another during science class (Prim hadn’t lied; they really were partners this year in school.)
Her cheeks turn pink when she describes their first kiss, in the art room at school, after everyone else had left for the day. They were both so nervous that they were shaking, Prim says, and she’d been so afraid to open her eyes when Astrid had pulled away. But she had opened them eventually, and found dark brown eyes staring back at her, soft, sweet, welcoming.
When she’s done, I know without a doubt that my sister is in love. And I think she knows it, too.
---
I feel anxious on my walk to the bakery the next morning. Should I tell Peeta I’m with Gale now? No; it would probably seem strange, coming out of nowhere, since he doesn’t know that Brody told me about his crush. But what if he tries to hug me again? Would it even be wrong for him to hug me, if we were only friends and he knew I had a boyfriend anyway?
Peeta is already outside feeding the pigs when I reach the bakery. He stands up quickly when he sees me coming, sloshing water from the pail he’s holding onto his pants. He curses softly. “Good morning,” he calls out, swatting at his wet leg.
“Hi,” I answer, stopping by the edge of the pig pen. “Do you need help?”
“Nah, we’re just about done here,” he says easily, leaning down to pat one of the pigs on the rump. “Thanks, though. How was your night?”
I think of the brief seconds I’d spent pressed against Peeta’s broad chest. The dead tribute from District 2, and the bright red blood splattered across the face of her killer. Gale’s mouth hot and insistent against mine, his fingers catching in my hair, his hands skimming down my sides. “It was fine,” I say, though overwhelming might be the more accurate word. I step back as he opens the gate to the pen and walks through, latching it carefully behind him. “What about you?”
Peeta sighs as he drops the water pail beside the back steps. “It was okay,” he says, holding the door open for me. I nod in thanks as I enter the kitchen. “I couldn’t get the thought of those District 2 kids out of my mind,” he adds quietly.
“Me neither,” I admit, shivering a little despite the heat of the ovens.
“How was everything with Prim?”
“It was good,” I say, watching as Peeta flicks a hand towel off of a ball of dough, punching the dough down with his fists to release the air. A little puff of flour bursts into the air as he flips the dough over to knead the other side. “She’s got to do a top eight interview soon, though.”
Peeta pauses, turning towards me, leaning his hip against the table. “Wow, top eight already. I didn’t even realize. Is she nervous?”
“Yeah, not terribly, though.” I shrug. “We practiced for it last night.”
He smiles. “You’re a good sister,” he says, and I have to hold back a snort. If only he knew how useless I’ve been when it comes to Prim’s emotional whirlwind of the past few weeks. Nonetheless, it’s a nice thing for him to say - a nice thing for me to hear - and a pleasant warmth spreads through me.
“Thanks.” I shift towards the door to the front. “Well, I guess I -“
“D’you want to eat lunch with me today?” he interrupts. A flush creeps up his neck. “I mean - Brody’s not feeling well today but I already made two sandwiches this morning. I wouldn’t want to waste one,” he finishes quickly.
“Oh - okay,” I agree, startled. It’s just lunch. Not much can happen when you’re sitting around eating sandwiches. And if things get…awkward, I can just explain about Gale and I. Simple.
“Okay.” He turns back to the dough on the table, but I catch a glimpse of the wide grin that’s spread across his face. “Great. Just…let me know when you’re ready.”
---
It’s an unusually busy morning, and it goes by so fast I hardly have time to think about anything but muffins and cookies and baguettes. But by noon the flow of customers has slowed to a trickle, and I wander into the kitchen, my stomach grumbling. Peeta’s standing by the television in the back, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Did something happen?” I demand, feeling a sudden panic. Peeta doesn’t normally pay much attention to the Games down here.
He turns and shakes his head quickly when he sees my face. “No, no,” he says. “Everything’s fine. I’m just a little bored back here by myself. Brody’s sick, Dad’s picking up a shipment of supplies, you’re busy with customers.”
“Oh…sorry.”
“No, I didn’t mean to…” Peeta trails off. “You’re doing a great job out there. I know my dad’s very happy with you. Except he misses the squirrels,” he jokes. I smile; to be honest, I miss them, too. “Are you hungry?”
I nod, and he smiles back, untying his apron. “Okay, hang on a sec and I’ll go grab us lunch.”
Just as Peeta disappears into another room, the bell rings out front. I sigh heavily, trudging towards the swinging door. “Just a moment!” I call out, unsure if they can even hear me.
But I’m shocked to find that it’s not a customer - it’s Gale, standing in the middle of the bakery in his mining uniform, his messy black hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He grins when he sees me.
I stand frozen in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
His smile falls a little. “I wanted to come see you,” he says, stepping up to the counter. “Is that okay?”
“I…I guess so,” I say, moving forward. He leans over the counter and plants a brief kiss on my lips. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble? Being away from work?”
Gale shrugs. “I get thirty minutes for lunch to spend as I please.” He reaches out and toys with the end of my braid. “And I’m pleased to spend it with you.”
“The mines are at least ten minutes away,” I protest. “You barely have time to stop here.” I know Gale thinks he’s being romantic, but this is impractical - dangerous, even. He could be punished if he doesn’t make it back to the mines on time.
Before he can answer, my name rings out from the kitchen behind us. “Katniss?” Peeta pushes through the swinging door, two sandwiches wrapped in paper in his hands, a bottle of milk tucked under his arm. “Oh. Hi,” he nods at Gale.
“Hey,” Gale nods back.
Peeta looks between Gale and I. “Are you here to pick up some bread?” he asks, clearly unsure of what he’s stumbled upon.
“I’m just here to see my girl,” Gale responds casually, tilting his head towards me.
“Oh.” Peeta pauses. “Well, here you go, Katniss,” he says, handing me one of the sandwiches. “It’s chicken with tomatoes and spinach.” He nods again at Gale. “See you later.” He disappears back into the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I whisper, though he’s already gone.
Gale eyes the sandwich in my hand suspiciously. “Did he just make that for you?”
“No, it was supposed to be for his brother,” I say. “But he’s sick.” Though now that Gale mentions it, it does seem a bit odd that Peeta would make their lunches so early in the morning when he only has to climb a few stairs to use his regular kitchen.
“Sure.” Gale looks unconvinced, and he folds his arms over his chest. “Well, this was clearly a bad idea, so I’m just going to go.”
“Gale, wait.” I rush around the counter and tug his hand away from the crook of his arm, holding it in my own. “It was sweet of you to come. I just…I worry. I don’t want you getting in trouble just because of me.”
He sighs, clasping my hand between both of his. “I hate that I never get to see you. I’m always at the mines, you’re always here…we don’t even have every Sunday anymore.”
“I know.” I shrug. This is how our lives work; there’s no point in getting worked up about it. “Maybe you can come over for dinner sometime this week?”
Gale smiles a little, bringing my hand to his lips for a small kiss. “Okay,” he says. “Maybe after dinner we can go for a little walk…” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I blush, thinking back to last night.
“Maybe,” I tell him, pulling my hand away. “Now get back to work. I don’t want you to be late.”
“Yes ma’am.” Gale pulls me in for another kiss - it seems like he just can’t get enough of kissing me, though I’m nearly certain that I’m terrible at it - and squeezes my hand before turning to leave.
Once he’s gone I wander back to the counter, where my sandwich is still sitting in its paper wrapper. I pick it up and walk into the kitchen. “Peeta?”
I hear the scrape of a chair moving against the tiled floor, and Peeta’s head pops out from the doorway of his father’s office. “Hey.”
I step tentatively towards him. “Can I still eat with you?”
“Sure.” I avoid his eyes, but I can feel him watching me as I enter the office, settling into a chair across from where he sits at his father’s desk. “I thought you’d be eating with Gale.”
“He didn’t have time,” I explain, unwrapping the sandwich. “He only gets thirty minutes for lunch.”
“Oh.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes, and I instantly regret coming back here. Somehow I’d believed that once Peeta learned I had a boyfriend, it would be easier to be around him. He’d understand that we weren’t going to date, and we could just be friends. But if this new tension is any indication, I’d been horribly, terribly wrong.
“I didn’t realize you and Gale were dating,” Peeta says carefully, breaking the silence, his fingers picking at a bit of leftover crust.
I swallow uncomfortably, my mouth suddenly dry. “We just started,” I say, keeping my eyes trained on the food in my lap.
Peeta nods. “Cool. I mean…you two were always together in school and stuff, so it’s not really surprising.”
“Yeah.” I pray for Mr. Mellark to walk in, for the bell to ring out front…anything to end this conversation.
“Well, I’m sorry if I did anything that seemed inappropriate in the last couple weeks,” he says, glancing up to meet my eyes.
I shake my head quickly. “No, I…I don’t even know what you mean.”
“Nothing. Nevermind. I don’t know.” He smiles weakly, brushing the crumbs from his sandwich off the desktop and into his palm as he stands. “I’ve gotta get back to work, but you’re welcome to eat in here.”
“That’s okay.” I’d feel weird, sitting in the office by myself. “I can finish out there.” Peeta nods and waits for me to leave before shutting the door behind us. “Thanks, by the way. For lunch. It’s really good.” I wave what’s left of my sandwich in the air half-heartedly.
Peeta smiles again, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sure. Anytime.”
Whew. Well, first off, I am sorry it took me 3 weeks to get this updated, because it's lame that it took me so long to write what's not even a very long chapter. In addition to being busy, I got swept up writing a oneshot for the Prompts in Panem challenge on Tumblr (it's called Science vs. Romance, it's K/P set in the True Blood universe, and it features sexy!vampire!Peeta. It was a lot of fun to write! You can find it on FF.net & AO3.)
Also, I'm sorry I've been bad about responding to comments lately! I appreciate all your lovely reviews SO MUCH - thank you!!
As always, hope you enjoy!