Chapter Text
He laughs at something she says while lying on her bed, his head on her lap. He holds her hand. There is a part of him that wants him to be nice about it but he also wants to squeeze possessive.
His.
He knows sometimes he forgets many hours of his days, sometimes his name, even. He is not sure what has happened to his family, and who she even is.
But he knows deep in his core, she is his.
But that thought, not that, the previous one, makes him anxious.
Ghhh. It's so difficult to keep thoughts in the head for long enough to consider them.
“Who are you again?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Seriously, Peeta?”
He gets annoyed at that; no one should roll their eyes at him. He pulls her down and climbs above her, his arms caging her.
“Hey,” she yells. And looks in his eyes. God, her eyes are gorgeous. She is all gorgeous. He knows he wants her. Does she want him? Does it matter?
It matters.
Well, apparently he knows that as well. She pushes him away.
“Not like that, Peeta.”
He mumbles “sorry” and then looks at her warily.
“Are you a witch?”
She laughs. “I know a thing or two about herbs and some myths and legends. Wouldn’t take you for one to believe in that.”
He closes his eyes, tired. “Don’t know what to believe anymore. Everything seems possible and impossible. I thought I was dangerous. I am angry all the time. And I just said sorry to you.”
“You weren’t always like that.” She says quietly.
“How do you know? Did I know you before all of this? Were you my girlfriend?"
“No,” she says sadly. “But you seem different. In the games, you were kind to small children. Shared your food. Never cruel. And the way you talk about the hope for a New Panem, well, I believed you. I wanted it to be true so badly.”
“But it’s not,” he says, looking through the window at the city. It's raining again. He doesn’t go out much, not at all more likely, but he knows that this city, this country, is as rotten as he is, if not more.
She hugs him then, and he decides he loves to feel her body pressed to his. He wants to feel her more, touch her. He knows how. She happily showed him what she liked. He cups her face and kisses her deeply, noticing her breath hitches. She is blushing. Good.
Ask.
He knows he has to.
“Do you want to?” he whispers to her ear.
“Yeah,” she whispers back, and after that,t his hands are all over her. One of them cups her ass when another finds her nipple and plays with hardening bud. She moans and kisses him behind his ear. God. They don’t go further than some touching and kissing. He thinks that with all his shifts, it might be dangerous. But they have that, anyway.
He gets a little too carried away and bites her earlobe. She hisses, there is a drop of blood.
He starts crying and shaking immediately. “I’m so sorry, Katniss, so sorry, never meant to hurt you, not really, so sorry, baby.” She hushes his sobs, hugs him fiercely, and doesn’t let go till he calms down. They put a plaster on it, she says she doesn’t need it, but he feels better taking care of her like that. Also it is a visible reminder to keep himself fucking together.
He wakes up later than normal, he can see it because the sun is higher. The dream he had was so realistic, but mostly he is surprised to remember it. He gets up and wakes up Katniss. She can sleep some more after breakfast. And then he sees it – a plaster on her left earlobe he put there last night.