Preview: The Touch of Time
Late to the party as usual…. Also a heads up. I’ve been dealing with a lot of personal crap the past month that I won’t bore you with , and it has seriously affected my ability to put words on pages. I am posting SSS today for the three projects I am trying to work on, and then I will be taking a brief hiatus from tumblr. I don’t have a specific return date, I simply wanted to let anyone who is interested know what’s up and am offering my previews as a promise that I am not quitting on these stories yet. I simply need a break. <3 KDNFB.
Prompt 85 for the @everlarkficexchange: Canon-divergent. Everyone is born with a clock embedded within the inside of their left wrist that ticks down to the very moment you realize your love for your soulmate. (Submitted by Anonymous)
Of course it would be different, Peeta thinks over his father’s words as he rounds a corner and backtracks the second he sees Ryen leaning with one arm on the lockers, above Delly’s head. She’s blushing and nodding and Peeta’s furious. He should intervene, protect his friend from the heartache that Ryen seems to leave in his wake, but Delly knows exactly what she’s doing.
His new path isn’t much better. Katniss sweeps her braid over her shoulder and stands, kicking her locker shut with her foot, unaware of the way his heart pounds and his palms grow clammy, his throat dry. His stomach feels like someone’s using it as a springboard. If love feels anything like a crush, he’s not sure that it’s something he wants. Peeta tries not to look as they walk towards one another, but his eyes stray towards her anyways. Their gazes lock for a second. She pulls on her left sleeve. He looks away. And then she’s behind him.
He’s a coward. Unable to talk to her. Not a solitary word.
Because then you might find out it’s not her, a voice in his head whispers.
After practice, he works in the bakery, covering Ryen’s shift. His brother disappeared as soon as the mats were cleared off the gym floor, and Peeta doesn’t want to think about what that means. He smiles and serves the customers. Helps his dad prep the dough for tomorrow. When he’s done, he drags himself up the stairs to the bathroom for a shower. His brother is already there, sitting on the commode and staring at his wrist. Peeta shifts his foot to leave when Ryen speaks, stopping him.
“She was just supposed to be a bit of fun. They all were. I mean, I guess I was looking for her in a way. How else was I gonna find my soulmate if I didn’t flirt with every girl possible, right?” As much as Peeta would like to judge Ryen for that sentiment, he can’t. Isn’t it the same thing he’s been doing too? With one notable exception. Only he’s never gone as far with any of them as Ryen claims to have done. Ryen sighs and presses three fingers to his wrist. When he removes it, Peeta stares expectantly at nothing on his brother’s skin.
“Thanks, genius.” Ryen repeats the motion and Peeta looks up at his face. “It was there this afternoon. Now it’s gone.”
Peeta steps inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and Ryen lifts his head, a pained look on his face. “Fuck, Peeta, I know she’s your friend. I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. I forgot how close I was to running out of time and now…”
“What did you do to her?”
“I told her she was beautiful and promised her I’d take care of her. The same thing I’ve said to a dozen girls before her. But...I think I meant it this time.” They stare at one another and Ryen’s eyes harden. “And I said it while I was fucking her.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Peeta says and motions for Ryen to show him his wrist. Ryen only covers it with his hand and holds his arm to his chest.
“It’s not. I only had something like 800 thousand beats last I looked.”
“You said it was there this afternoon.”
“Delly saw it. I didn’t. I didn’t see the number.”
Peeta mulls this over while Ryen tugs on his hair, agitated. “So...keep your promise.”
“I can’t,” Ryen whines. “She doesn’t...she doesn’t feel the same way.”
“How do you know?” Peeta asks. Now he’s the one who’s agitated. “How do you know if you don’t talk to her about it?”
“Because I did! She’s still got at least another two years’ worth of heartbeats on hers. Fuck! I mean... What if it’s not me?”
The question is spoken quietly, but it punches Peeta in the gut. Is something like that even possible? That you might be destined to love someone who doesn’t love you back? It’s a sick twist of fate if so, but in this world, it wouldn’t surprise Peeta if that were true.
“I wish it were longer. More than two years. At least then...I’d know she won’t be reaped.” Ryen stands and kicks the wall before stomping out of the room.
Peeta shuffles his feet and makes excuses for delaying. Tells himself not to look. He finally starts the shower and strips, steps under the cold spray and capitulates.
Three fingers over the left wrist, where you feel your pulse. Three beats of the heart and look. His numbers glow up at him, ticking away three more beats of his heart before fading back into his skin.
And he understands what Ryen means, about wishing it were longer and the assurance that would bring. That he’s not meant to die in the Games. Peeta’s numbers don’t give him that reassurance either.
“Unless the numbers are wrong,” he tells the air.
