THG Fic: Five, Ten, Fifteen (1/3)
Title: Five, Ten, Fifteen 1/3
Author: amaliak
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Characters: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Rating: PG-13
Summary:He begged her for years. It's the only thing he'd ever really asked of her.
FIVE
I don't like to wander into the woods alone too much. It's often too quiet, the sounds that had once soothed me now are ominous and danger could be at any turn. I can't feel completely at ease without a weapon. Another gift from the arena.
Peeta doesn't like it much either, but has set in his mind that he needs to find the good in it to replace the bad memories that still haunt both of us. I admire his hope in the idea that we can forget.
A mockingjay calls just outside the clearing we're in deep in the woods, breaking my reverie from my place tucked into Peeta's body as we lie together in the grass in the quickly fading summer light. I think of Rue's four note song and carefully stand up, being sure not to wake him from his nap.
I step to the edge of the trees, softly calling up Rue's song to the mockingjay as an offering. It was quiet for a long while. I return to Peeta's side, holding my knees to my chest, thinking that the mockingjay hadn't heard me. I try to muster up relief.
"Katniss?" Peeta's voice was rough with sleep, blue eyes blinking it away.
"Hi," I smiled at him.
Just then, the song, Rue's song, burst in the sky above us, a single mockingjay fluttering from one tree to another, black feathers glistening in the sunlight. Another sounded and soon, I could hear it traveling away from us, deeper into the woods while it evolved with a mixture of other motes that suited the birds' whim.
"I forget how truly beautiful that is," Peeta says softly, sitting up beside me now, his face turned towards the sky. "It reminds me of how you sing."
I hadn't sung in years.
His face turns towards me, giving me a warm smile and something pulls at me, making me lean towards him. I've started getting used to not resisting it.
I press my lips to his, slowly and lazily kissing him. It's become one of my favorite things to do, finally accepting in my own mind that there's something really comforting about the way that it made me feel special somehow. Gone were the touching of lips we'd done in the arenas, dead and limp by comparison. They were replaced by a living thing between us, breathing and stirring things in deep buried places that I hadn't realized could still exist after everything we'd both been through.
Peeta had laid me down on the grass, hands sliding over me as his lips moved from mine down to my neck. He was taking his time, exploring as I slid my hands into his hair. This was something we were starting to get used to, after years of sharing a bed, admitting what we felt for each other and being very physical about our demonstrations...the idea that we could be comfortable enough to touch each other like this at any time we wished without waiting for the other person to give a signal...well, it was a bit of a novelty still and we were taking advantage of it.
Another more recent novelty was the facial hair that Peeta had finally started to grow two weeks ago. It was light and a bit patchy but I loved the way it made his face seem almost roguish and that it tickled in all the right places and it was just so normal, such a sign of life moving on (my prep team would have been gratified to know that due to all the skin grafts, it was impossible for me to grow any type of body hair ever again).
Peeta had stopped his exploration of my body, his breath over the skin of my stomach, his hands having pushed up my shirt to expose it. His thumbs were rubbing softly up and down the skin just below my ribs and I tensed. I knew what was coming.
He bent down and kissed my stomach, moving down slowly to stop on my abdomen, right where the line of pants began. I raised my eyes to the sky, nothing that soon we would have to start heading back home. Maybe today he wouldn't do this.
"Katniss."
His breath was warm over my skin and even though I cringed, I smoothed down the hair on his head, brining my eyes down to him again. He didn't look at me, just pressed his forehead against my abdomen.
"Please," he said, the stubble on his chin brushing my skin.
The sound of his voice, so small and broken and so...desperate. I had been expecting a long, pleading speech that would ultimately end in a real fight, like we'd already had at least twice over the last few months about the same thing.
Not this quiet begging. Tears filled my eyes and I felt the "yes" bubbling in my throat, just so he would never sound like that ever again.
But in right then, just at the tree line where I'd sang it, Rue's four note song came floating back to me, reminding me of why I couldn't say yes, why what he was asking me was still unthinkable.
I could not have children. Not while everything still made me afraid, not in a world where my nightmares were still so close to the surface there were days I couldn't even function. I knew what it was like to have a mother that would shut down like that, and it wasn't about to happen to any child of mine.
I sat up, pushing his shoulders back until I was straddling his lap, my arms around his neck.
I let go of a breath I didn't realize that I had been holding when he put his arms around me.
"I can't," I say into his shoulder, my throat closing around the rest of what I was going to say. I wait for him to push me away.
He doesn't.
I need to stop expecting him to.
"Okay."
He sighs heavily and my heart tights for him again. He wasn't asking for us to have kids right away, just for me to open to the possibility of soon. It was what he desperately wanted, but here he was, accepting that I couldn't. I really didn't deserve him.
Which is why I felt the need to give him hope.
I pull back a bit, placing my hands on either side of his face. His eyes are cast down and I kiss his lips softly.
"Ask me again," I tell him and his eyes jump to mine, bright and blue. "Not today," I hurry to clarify. "Not...any time soon, just...someday, maybe. Ask me again."
He nods his understanding, slipping his hands under my shirt again, tracing circles on my back as he kisses me oh so softly.
It will be dark soon.
TEN
Author: amaliak
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Characters: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Rating: PG-13
Summary:He begged her for years. It's the only thing he'd ever really asked of her.
FIVE
I don't like to wander into the woods alone too much. It's often too quiet, the sounds that had once soothed me now are ominous and danger could be at any turn. I can't feel completely at ease without a weapon. Another gift from the arena.
Peeta doesn't like it much either, but has set in his mind that he needs to find the good in it to replace the bad memories that still haunt both of us. I admire his hope in the idea that we can forget.
A mockingjay calls just outside the clearing we're in deep in the woods, breaking my reverie from my place tucked into Peeta's body as we lie together in the grass in the quickly fading summer light. I think of Rue's four note song and carefully stand up, being sure not to wake him from his nap.
I step to the edge of the trees, softly calling up Rue's song to the mockingjay as an offering. It was quiet for a long while. I return to Peeta's side, holding my knees to my chest, thinking that the mockingjay hadn't heard me. I try to muster up relief.
"Katniss?" Peeta's voice was rough with sleep, blue eyes blinking it away.
"Hi," I smiled at him.
Just then, the song, Rue's song, burst in the sky above us, a single mockingjay fluttering from one tree to another, black feathers glistening in the sunlight. Another sounded and soon, I could hear it traveling away from us, deeper into the woods while it evolved with a mixture of other motes that suited the birds' whim.
"I forget how truly beautiful that is," Peeta says softly, sitting up beside me now, his face turned towards the sky. "It reminds me of how you sing."
I hadn't sung in years.
His face turns towards me, giving me a warm smile and something pulls at me, making me lean towards him. I've started getting used to not resisting it.
I press my lips to his, slowly and lazily kissing him. It's become one of my favorite things to do, finally accepting in my own mind that there's something really comforting about the way that it made me feel special somehow. Gone were the touching of lips we'd done in the arenas, dead and limp by comparison. They were replaced by a living thing between us, breathing and stirring things in deep buried places that I hadn't realized could still exist after everything we'd both been through.
Peeta had laid me down on the grass, hands sliding over me as his lips moved from mine down to my neck. He was taking his time, exploring as I slid my hands into his hair. This was something we were starting to get used to, after years of sharing a bed, admitting what we felt for each other and being very physical about our demonstrations...the idea that we could be comfortable enough to touch each other like this at any time we wished without waiting for the other person to give a signal...well, it was a bit of a novelty still and we were taking advantage of it.
Another more recent novelty was the facial hair that Peeta had finally started to grow two weeks ago. It was light and a bit patchy but I loved the way it made his face seem almost roguish and that it tickled in all the right places and it was just so normal, such a sign of life moving on (my prep team would have been gratified to know that due to all the skin grafts, it was impossible for me to grow any type of body hair ever again).
Peeta had stopped his exploration of my body, his breath over the skin of my stomach, his hands having pushed up my shirt to expose it. His thumbs were rubbing softly up and down the skin just below my ribs and I tensed. I knew what was coming.
He bent down and kissed my stomach, moving down slowly to stop on my abdomen, right where the line of pants began. I raised my eyes to the sky, nothing that soon we would have to start heading back home. Maybe today he wouldn't do this.
"Katniss."
His breath was warm over my skin and even though I cringed, I smoothed down the hair on his head, brining my eyes down to him again. He didn't look at me, just pressed his forehead against my abdomen.
"Please," he said, the stubble on his chin brushing my skin.
The sound of his voice, so small and broken and so...desperate. I had been expecting a long, pleading speech that would ultimately end in a real fight, like we'd already had at least twice over the last few months about the same thing.
Not this quiet begging. Tears filled my eyes and I felt the "yes" bubbling in my throat, just so he would never sound like that ever again.
But in right then, just at the tree line where I'd sang it, Rue's four note song came floating back to me, reminding me of why I couldn't say yes, why what he was asking me was still unthinkable.
I could not have children. Not while everything still made me afraid, not in a world where my nightmares were still so close to the surface there were days I couldn't even function. I knew what it was like to have a mother that would shut down like that, and it wasn't about to happen to any child of mine.
I sat up, pushing his shoulders back until I was straddling his lap, my arms around his neck.
I let go of a breath I didn't realize that I had been holding when he put his arms around me.
"I can't," I say into his shoulder, my throat closing around the rest of what I was going to say. I wait for him to push me away.
He doesn't.
I need to stop expecting him to.
"Okay."
He sighs heavily and my heart tights for him again. He wasn't asking for us to have kids right away, just for me to open to the possibility of soon. It was what he desperately wanted, but here he was, accepting that I couldn't. I really didn't deserve him.
Which is why I felt the need to give him hope.
I pull back a bit, placing my hands on either side of his face. His eyes are cast down and I kiss his lips softly.
"Ask me again," I tell him and his eyes jump to mine, bright and blue. "Not today," I hurry to clarify. "Not...any time soon, just...someday, maybe. Ask me again."
He nods his understanding, slipping his hands under my shirt again, tracing circles on my back as he kisses me oh so softly.
It will be dark soon.
TEN