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11. gentle kiss
It struck him on one of their walks outside around District Thirteen. The leaves crunched under their feet with the buildings-burned-down-turned-gravel. Each day they went a little further, stayed out a little longer, and Peeta's outbursts were less frequent and less destructive. Sure, he still broke things and tore things from the wall but generally if anything was hurt as a result, it was himself and that was an improvement over putting people in the med wing in metal collars around their necks.
Autumn was coming and the leaves, untouched by mankind, were turning and Peeta stood staring at the green turning yellow and orange and simply stared. It wasn't quite a sunset ( they would never let them stay out so long ) but it was enough to stop him in his tracks all the same. It struck him as they stood there comfortable silence stretching between the two of them ( where words had just as easily filled the space-- Peeta found it easy to speak with Ben and, he hoped, Ben found it just as easy to do the same ).
In the distance a bird cried out, crickets resumed their song not far off. The wind whistled through the trees and for once Peeta didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder. Even if things weren't right they didn't feel wrong anymore.
Peeta turned then without a second thought to it and brushed his lips over Ben's, a spark igniting up his spine and settling in his core. It was soft, barely a whisper, and he pulled back nearly as quickly not sure how the other might respond. Peeta turned, glancing back at the leafs.
