our breath fogged in the glass

[lucked]

In some ways, Claire couldn't deny the fact that being in London was... kind of romantic. The snow was beautiful as it fell from the sky and came to blanket everything in their immediate vicinity with white too bright to stare at for long, and Claire had almost grown accustomed to rushing back into her apartment and huddling close to the stove,

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[lucked]

Her heart skipped a beat. And suddenly, unease spread through the rest of Claire like wildfire, a flush rising to her cheeks as she fought the immediate temptation to run, to forget, to escape from the emotions which kept her held constantly in a state of conflict. (Because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him, or to anyone else involved that love could spill over in an instant, constantly tangling everyone's webs until one person couldn't move without tripping everyone else in the process. It wasn't fair that she should feel so much for more than any one single person, and it wasn't fair that she could still feel for her now, her whole awareness lurching with the realization.)

But that would have been disrespectful, even cowardly, and what Claire knew in that instant more than anything else was how desperately she'd missed his friendship. So she pressed forward, until she could rest her arms on the counter, biting down on her lower lip, gaze tracing along the grain of the wood.

"How much does it cost to borrow the baker for... half an hour?" she asked, glancing up nervously.

[notapiece]

The feeling was palpable. That unease mixed with the feeling of sadness at having lost something that he once held dear. But he hadn't really lost Claire, not in the way that he had lost so many other things. Here she was, standing in the bakery that he was using to pass the time. So much had changed, but here she was. It made him wonder.

Picking up a rag, he gave the back counter a little wipe before setting it back down again. He had been looking for something to do with his hands and that hadn't been the answer he was looking for.

"Nothing," he answered after a moment's consideration. Shaking his head slightly he looked at her. "We still don't use money and I've got time. Consider it on the house."

[lucked]

Everything about him was familiar. Claire knew that she was far too young to really know what it was like, to be so deeply in love that one would have been willing to give up just about anything to keep that flame burning. She knew that she was far from it, a mixture of youth and the sheer reticence that came with everything that she'd seen and experienced in her life. An inability to believe that there were good things to come, or that they'd last, probably doomed to be snatched from her hands at the first opportunity. She'd gotten a taste of love with Chris, the type that was consuming, that wanted to fight against all odds- but in some way, it had tired her. Always bending and feeling as though she wasn't quite herself, in a way that she'd never been around Peeta. Until now.

Until her heart kept on rending at the sight of him. It wasn't romantic love; Claire almost didn't want to do it the injustice of thinking it such. It wasn't that she wanted to kiss him (although the memory rose to the forefront of her mind), or that she wanted to pick up where they'd been months ago. She didn't feel ready for that. But she loved him, in a way that ran deeper, in a way where seeing him made her too conscious of all that she'd missed by being apart, and it felt almost like coming home.

She blinked quickly, to keep her eyes from tearing up too much.

"I, ah, I've really missed you," she admitted, trying to keep a brave face on, and to do him the respect of distance. Not letting herself tumble so quickly again. "I don't even know what you've been up to lately or anything, I- god, I've just been a really crappy friend. I'm really sorry."

[notapiece]

So much about Claire was the same and yet different. He could pick out the differences, see how the sun and the days had changed her, how they faded into what he had known before. He had seen her various times over the past months, always at a distance. There had never been a reason to intrude in her life even though he wished that he had. Maybe he should have fought for her, but at the end of the day he just wanted her to be happy.

This was territory that he hadn't really covered before. Things might be strange and mixed up and terribly heavy with Katniss, but this was different. Peeta hadn't known Claire since he was a child. That made what he felt for her something rare on its own.

"I missed you too." He studied her face, thinking of the sketches he had started but never finished. "But yeah, you have. It's okay, though, I forgive you."

[lucked]

With an audible groan, Claire let her forehead drop into the palm of her hand, cheeks flaring up with a blush as Peeta, of all people, confirmed that she'd been selfish, that she'd been a lousy friend those past few months, something that she wanted to fix if at all possible. In the end, Claire reasoned with herself, nothing mattered more than making sure that those bridges were still built tall and strong. She didn't need to have a boyfriend, she didn't need to start pairing herself off like people decades older than her were doing on the island. She was only seventeen.

A time when romance was transient. (Maybe her priorities had been skewed.)

"Well, I'm here to stay now," she reasoned with a soft huff, glancing up again. "And I don't plan on just disappearing on anyone again. Anytime soon, at least. Because it just... really sucks when things get in the way of friendships, I don't know. How've you been, though?"

[notapiece]

The sound of her groan made him smile. His life had been lived with a sense of urgency that didn't really fit with his age. Here he was, eighteen and having survived death twice, had loved and lost and so many other things. What he had seen he wouldn't wish on anyone. It was better that it stayed buried in the life he had left at home.

But he wasn't going to turn his back on a friend, even if the bond between them had weakened for whatever reason. That would never be the sort of person that he was, for anyone and certainly not Claire.

"Good. I missed you, I don't want it to become a regular thing," he told her, leaning against the counter not caring if he left a trail of dust behind him. "Yeah it does, but I've been good. Painting, working here, that sort of thing. I learned to swim."

[lucked]

"You learned to swim? And I missed that?" Claire shook her head in disbelief, glancing up with a slight pout at the thought. She remembered the times they'd spent together shortly after they met, remembered the way that he looked at the water, as though unsure somehow. And she'd wanted nothing more than to show him that the lack of a leg didn't have to affect him in the slightest. "Jeez, I'm gone for a few months, and everything changes. Which... I guess is par for the course."

Pressing her palm to her cheek, Claire considered whether or not to hold her tongue, but in the end decided that the whole point of friendship was, sometimes, to ask the harder questions. "How are things with you and Katniss?" she asked, honestly curious. For the most part, Claire tried to avoid the other girl, feeling something too raw and cutting about her personality, but knowing how much she still mattered to Peeta, she figured that she needed to ask.

[notapiece]

"Don't worry about it too much. Maybe when this place goes back to normal we can go sometime and I can show off what I've learned."

Peeta wasn't very good but he had made an effort to get past his uncertainty which definitely counted for something. He couldn't be governed by his fear for forever. That wasn't going to make things any easier. There were still plenty of things that he wasn't sure he'd ever get past, but so long as there was one less thing on the list it was for the best.

"I mean, if you want to." He felt the need to put that out in there. If she wanted to step away from that then it was totally fine by him. He wasn't going to hold her to anything. Shrugging he frowned for a moment before shaking his head. "The same, more or less. I'm helping her make a book, but it's always going to be hard with her. It's for the best that we don't see each other all the time."

[lucked]

"Of course I want to," Claire replied, although her voice fell slightly softer for how much she knew that she didn't have the right to claim that fact obvious anymore. It wasn't strange that Peeta needed to ask. To set that disclaimer there. After all, she'd spent the majority of the past few months avoiding him, in her own way, sometimes not even as a conscious choice so much as simply choosing the path they were least likely to cross at. "I'd love to see what you learned, and although I may not be the total best swimmer around, I can probably show you a few tricks. I'm generally a pretty big fan of the water. There's this guy, Mathias, and he's been teaching me how to scuba dive. Pretty awesome."

Talking about Katniss felt like a harder topic, as always. Something that Claire didn't really quite have a right to. While it was no excuse for the way she'd turned tail (especially considering that Chris seemed to feel just as much of this hurdle on his end), there was always a part of Claire that found herself hesitant, for how much she could tell that Peeta loved Katniss. Claire knew she couldn't compare.

"I guess the book must be... it must be really tough for the both of you. Even though I'm sure I'd find it to be an interesting read, at the very least."

[notapiece]

The last thing that Peeta wanted to do was make Claire participate in something that she didn't want to do. It had been long enough without her in his life that the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. Straightening up, he scratched the back of his head as he smiled. "I know Mathias. He's who helped me learn to swim. I'm not amazing, but I know that I won't drown."

It wasn't a great joke, but it wasn't terrible. A year and a half ago if he had gone into the water and got swept away he would've been a goner. That probably wasn't something that he should joke about at all.

"Yeah. I think it's tougher for her, because of things that happened, but..." Peeta paused, shrugging slightly. There was something strange about discussing this with Claire. It wasn't that he didn't want to, he just didn't know how to combine these things in his life. "You can take a look at it when its done. I'm just doing the pictures."

[lucked]

"It just... takes practice," Claire shook her head, eyes filled with the utmost of confidence in him. Peeta had never given her reason to be anything but, even though sometimes insecurities struck into a girl's heart without rhyme or reason. With something like swimming, though, easily learned to anyone with the patience and will, she knew that Peeta would succeed regardless, given the right incentive, the right reasons to learn. "I'm pretty sure you'd be amazing at anything you put your mind to. You strike me as that type. Not totally clumsy like I am."

Pressing her lips together at the thought of the book, wondering if it was too much of her to want to see it as dearly as she did, to know the world that Peeta came from and all of the hardships that molded him into the person he was, Claire tilted her head. "And when it comes to the book, um. I mean. If Katniss wouldn't hate me forever for it, I'd love to see it. But I think... I'd also be happy just seeing more of your art, you know. Doesn't have to be something so personal. I get that it's really none of my business."

[notapiece]

"Yeah it does. I'm kind of experiencing that first hand. Soreness and all of that."

The progress that he was making was slow, but steady. Peeta didn't want to think too much about how this month (or however long the island was going to be like this) was going to slow his progress down. It was all right though. He'd catch back up. He was learning for himself after all.

With a laugh and an easy shrug, he smiled at her. "I think your being clumsy is kind of sweet." It wasn't until the words had left his mouth did he realise that he probably should have stopped. It wasn't the sort of thing he should say to a girl who just wanted to be friends, but he didn't regret them. Not fully anyways. "But maybe. Swimming isn't like baking or painting, but I like it."

He looked at her, piecing out the meaning between what she'd said and trying to wonder if he had to reassure her. "No, no. It's meant to be read. It's easier to remember if we've got help. They're not my stories anyways."

[lucked]

"Is it? Well, I guess I can accept sweet," Claire considered with a light roll of her eyes, a pleased smile on her lips in spite of herself. Maybe it was treading dangerous territory, but... Claire figured, as long as Peeta got the sense that she wasn't really ready to jump into anything else, not so soon, not when she was still honestly caught on everything that had happened between Chris and herself, then it didn't make sense to cut off words or to be too unnatural with each other. He found her sweet; she'd find him the same in return. Nothing wrong with that. Or so she hoped. "Even if it comes hand-in-hand with clumsy."

Biting down on her lower lip, she shook her head at the rest, shrugging a shoulder. "And yeah, I know, I know stories are... usually written to be read, just. I don't think Katniss likes me much. And I'm not, you know, eager or going to force that to change, especially since I don't know how to feel about her either, but I just figured that if it's too intrusive to read her story- your story, the both of yours, really- then I wouldn't press."

[notapiece]

"You don't have to, but it'd be kind of nice if you did," he pointed out. No one had to take complements. They were just sort of things that hung out there in the air, making life a little better for someone. When they were meant then it was a way of showing that someone cared. There might be many things that were awkward or uncomfortable about this, but Peeta cared. That probably wasn't going to stop, it might only change.

"There's nothing wrong with clumsy. I can be forgetful. Or I used to be. It got me into a ton of trouble as a kid." He shrugged trying to not think of his mother and the times that she had scolded him. He would never be scolded by her again. All of that was gone. It made him feel strangely blank.

Cracking a smile he leaned forward across the counter. "Want to know a secret?" he asked her, tone dropping in a conspiratorial way. "I don't think she likes me that much either. But I think it would be okay for you to read it."

[lucked]

She noticed the change in expression at the mention of his childhood, one of many details that she filed away, just in case it ever came up fully in conversation. The look in his eyes seemed to be plenty of reason all its own not to press right then, something vacant to the color until he pulled himself together again- maybe his memories weren't positive ones, Claire thought to herself.

Worse yet, maybe they were.

So she tried her best to align with the change in topic, recoiling in complete disbelief and shaking her head vigorously at his statement. "Nuh-uh. No way. There is no way that she doesn't like you, seriously. Like." She inhaled, shaking her head. "Okay, don't tell her that I told you this, but she asked me not to break your heart. About a year ago. And that's not exactly a request you make on behalf of someone you don't like."