Prompt 72: Peeta and Katniss are rival co-workers. Somehow, they end up going out on a blind date. [submitted by Anonymous]
A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read and check out my work! This is my first submission to Tumblr. Big thanks to @everlarkficexchange for walking me through this crazy process. I’m over at ff.net as Ms.K.Everdeen if you have any interest in my other work. I’ll be posting this story there soon too.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2
“So did you try that dating website I told you about?” Johanna asked as she and Katniss sat down to eat dinner at a local restaurant.
Katniss paused to consider her. “Yes, I did.” She replied curtly.
“Good! Any potentials?” Johanna asked with a wiggle of her eyebrow.
Katniss rolled her eyes. “I posted my profile just over 24 hours ago.” She replied.
“So? There’s plenty of desperate people in the world, one of them is bound to be crazy enough to like you.” Her friend replied with a shrug. Katniss scoffed as the two looked through their menus.
“This whole thing is so crazy! What if I end up liking a guy who’s a complete beast?” Katniss said peering over her menu.
“Well that’s shallow!” Johanna chastised her. “I met Maverick through that site.” She added as if that was supposed to make Katniss feel better. The pair had been hot and heavy to start, but eventually fizzled out. Although most of Johanna’s relationships had been like that anyway.
“Johanna, you don’t exactly have a great track record when it comes to relationships.” Katniss pointed out.
“Well brainless, at least I’m getting out in the world. Meeting people, going places, doing things! What are you so busy doing?” Johanna shot back.
“I have my photography.” Katniss replied meekly.
“Yeah, that’s a great way to socialize…shooting pictures of flowers.” Her friend replied with a roll of her eyes.
“I thought we could have a nice meal together, not a lecture about my personal life…or lack thereof.” Katniss remarked, giving the other woman a look. She was grateful Johanna didn’t mention anything more about the website, or her dating life for the remainder of dinner.
When Katniss got home later that evening, she peeled off her work clothes and cozied up in her favorite pajamas on the couch. As she flicked on the television she was distracted by a chiming sound coming from her nearby laptop. Curious, she pulled it to her lap. She was more than a little surprised to find that she had received several messages from potential men on the dating website:
Message from Hunter_Dude12: Hey! I’m a nature lover too! We should chat sometime. What’s your favorite part about being outdoors?
Message from BigRed: Hello. I see you like photography. I’m an amateur photographer myself. What do you shoot with? Send me a message. I’d love to hear from you.
And a final message from MuffinM4n: Hi, NatureLvr0508! I’m intrigued by your profile. I’d like to know more about you. Please consider messaging me back. I’m new to this whole online dating thing and I’m pretty clueless.
Katniss sat back on the couch. She held her face in her hands as she felt a smile ease its way onto her lips. This was definitely a first. She could never remember a time when three men were curious to know more about her. She wouldn’t consider herself antisocial, but she wasn’t a social butterfly either. She felt a bout of nerves as she responded back to BigRed’s message.
From NatureLvr0508: Hi BigRed! I guess I’m sort of old school when it comes to my photography. I like to shoot with a Rolleicord twin lens. I’m a bit of a nerd and prefer to develop my own film. What about you?
She sat expectantly for a moment before she suddenly received a message back. She and BigRed chatted with one another for awhile until Katniss felt herself nodding off. His final message to her was to ask if she’d be interested in talking over the phone sometime soon. She remained silent on her end as she was, understandably, a little intimidated by the suggestion so early in their exchange. In the end, he left her his number and wished her goodnight. As she settled in to bed moments later, Katniss felt empowered knowing the ball was in her court, and that perhaps she could find success with this dating thing after all.
Disclaimers- I wasn’t able to finish editing in time, so this is just the first part. It hasn’t been looked over, except for my own eyes, so any mistakes or glaring errors are all my doing.
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PRESENT DAY
My daughter was nervous and her father wasn’t helping matters.
“There will be boys at this party Katniss! It’s a Co-Ed party! You know what happens at those kids of parties! Lots of sex and kissing!” He exclaimed in frustration.
“I know exactly what goes on at those types of parties. I went to those when I was her age. You did too if my memory serves.” I said smirking. “She’ll be fine. And who knows, maybe she’ll get to play spin the bottle and finally get a kiss from her crush.“
I could see his face become flushed as he left his daughter’s room, quietly mumbling "You only hope she’s that lucky”.
“Mom, I’ll just stay home. I don’t want my first kiss to be from a stranger, and I don’t think that I would be brave enough to kiss the boy I like”. I looked at her and smiled. “Willow, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I was in your shoes once. I was nervous about going to a party like this one, but it all turned out okay in the end.”
“I’m going to kill Finnick! How could he do this to me?"
"Calm down Brainless. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but Blondie will be there and this might be your chance to sneak him a kiss without him ever knowing it was you”.
“Ugh! How would he even know it was me? We’ve never kissed before? How would I know that would be him kissing me?"
"Have I ever let you down KitKat?” I glared at Finnick for his use of that stupid nickname.
“YES! What about the time that you abandoned me at the last party with David Marvel while you were busy getting busy with Annie? Or the time when you and Annie got a little too tipsy and went skinny dipping in Cato’s pool and the neighbors call the cops and I had to bail you out! Oh, and my favorite, the time when you"
“OKAY!” Finnick yells as he cuts my rambling mouth off. "But Katniss, I promise I won’t let you down this time! Annie won’t even be there to distract me tonight. I’ll be there to help Peeta realize how great you two would be as a couple."
Peeta Mellark. Another one of my good friends, and for a while now, the face of my adolescent desires. Joanna says that I can’t keep drooling over him whenever we are all together. It is also the source of her nickname for me. She says I’m brainless with how I can’t see how much Peeta is crushing over me. I doubt both of those claims, but nevertheless it’s one of the reasons why I’m busy arguing with Finnick and Joanna tonight. They somehow think that if Peeta and I can just simply kiss that all will be revealed to the both of us and how stupid we have been. If, and that’s a big if, we somehow manage to kiss, I think that they are expecting a fireworks show and cheesy romantic music to be playing.
As we finally arrive at Cato’s house, Finnick and Joanna are busy gossiping about how to get their next unsuspecting couple together and I stare out the window, that I am taken aback by how many people seem to have gathered at Cato’s house.
"I thought you said is was just a small gathering…this looks like have the School!” I whine. “Relax Brainless, you know how big Cato’s parties get when his parents are out of town. Don’t worry. Maybe until Blondie arrives, you can practice a little bit on one of Cato’s unsuspecting guests. I would be more than happy to give you some tips on how to"
I don’t hear the rest of Joanna’s advice due to the slamming of my door and my hasty retreat into the overflowing house of people. How Joanna thinks that "practicing” as she calls it would even be something I remotely consider! I’m about to enter my Senior year of school, and alive never had a boyfriend, let alone kissed anyone and she expects me to just go bounding up to some unsuspecting boy and just plant one on him?!
“That’s exactly what you do Brainless!” Joanna replies. “You know… for someone who claims to be stealthy, you sure do voice your thoughts out loud for anyone to hear you. I thought hunters were supposed to keep their inner thoughts INSIDE their heads."
I glare at her as she gleefully snickers over my embarrassment. As we walk towards the house my stomach begins to knot up and as I turn to bolt back out and back to the car, I run right into Joanna.
"Brainless. Clam down. Trust me. Peeta confirmed with Finnick that as soon as he gets off his shift from the bakery he’s coming here. If I have to lock the two of you into a room myself for 7 minutes of heaven I’ll do it. You don’t realize how sickeningly disgusting it is to watch the two of you pitifully fawn over the other!”
I groan as we walk, or in my case am forcibly pulled, into the large entryway. I only have one thought as we finally step over the threshold… I will get a chance to kiss Peeta Mellark tonight. And that thought terrifies me.
As Monday rolled around, Peeta felt like he could float on air. Talking with his nature lover over the weekend had been exciting and made him feel eager for their first meeting on Wednesday. He wondered briefly if they should try talking on the phone in the meantime, but actually felt quite satisfied with how things were going. He also enjoyed the bit of mystery that shrouded them, so decided against suggesting a call. As he entered the office he was pulled into Plutarch’s office right away. A very grumpy looking Katniss sat near the desk.
“Peeta, great news!” Heavensbee began. “Katniss has agreed to partner with you on the Crane account. Seneca is so thrilled. He’s really very excited to see what you two can put together. I’ll expect a reformatted presentation for him by the end of the day on Wednesday.” Plutarch said, barely allowing himself a chance to breathe. He clapped Peeta on the back and rushed from the room, chasing after his secretary for a cup of coffee. Peeta was left feeling dumbfounded.
“So I have this thing going on this Wednesday night, so if we could just pedal to the metal and get the new presentation done…” Peeta said trailing off, looking to Katniss as he fiddled with the strap of his messenger bag.
“Yeah, well I’m busy too. So great.” She said in a huff.
“What are you so busy doing?” Peeta asked as she stood. He tried to sound genuinely interested instead of rude. He wasn’t sure it came off that way as he followed her on her way back to her desk.
“That’s none of your business.” She snapped. “Meet me in the conference room in 10 so we can get started.”
Peeta gave her a nod and dropped his belongings off at his own desk. Grabbing himself a cup of tea, he slowly made his way to the conference room, not exactly thrilled to be working beside Little Miss Cactus. Although this did give him an opportunity to possibly redeem himself and let her take the reigns a bit on the project. He wasn’t surprised to see her already sitting inside the room, laptop open and ready to go.
“Show me what you’ve got.” He said as he sat down beside her.
Katniss let out a sigh and ran him through her presentation. Peeta felt like scum after he saw it. Her ideas were absolute genius; pure and simple.
“Well?” She asked looking to him expectantly.
“Looks pretty good.” He offered with a shrug.
Katniss lifted her brow and tapped her pen on her notepad several times. It looked like she was biting the inside of her bottom lip.
“What did you have?” She asked back after a moment. Peeta felt ridiculous showing her his proposal. He wasn’t sure how she was going to react. He tried not to stare, but kept an intent eye on her to try to gauge her reaction. She was completely unreadable. “I need more to drink.” She said as she stood after a very long moment of silence once he was done.
Peeta watched as she walked from the room. He sat back heavily in his chair, rubbing his cheek then pinching the bridge of his nose. He startled when Katniss stormed back in unexpectedly, “We can make this work!” She began emphatically.
“We can?” Peeta asked sitting up, taking a look at her.
“Yes. Between my idea, what you’ve got there, and with your knack for numbers and budgeting, I think we can give Crane exactly what he wants.” She finished as she sat down beside him.
Katniss Everdeen was all business. Peeta even thought he might label it stubbornness. As the hours ticked by she was unrelenting in her work, forcing Peeta to do the same. He figured whatever she had going on Wednesday night must’ve been pretty exciting for her to be working this efficiently. Not one to be outdone, Peeta worked just as fervently beside her. He looked to her as she cleared her throat. Half expecting her to say something, Peeta waited and quickly got lost in his thoughts. In their close proximity he noticed the freckles that dusted her nose and cheeks. He even caught the way her thick lashes curled, nearly touching the underside of her brows. He was particularly captivated by how good she smelled. He had narrowed it down to a mix of her shampoo and whatever detergent she washed her clothes in. She smelled like spring.
“What is it Peeta?” She asked, keeping at her work but surely feeling his eyes on her for too long.
“Oh, I uh-I thought you were getting ready to say something.” He managed to stutter out.
Katniss gave him a sidelong glance and pursed her lips. “Yeah, let’s break for lunch. See you back in an hour.” She offered quickly as she pushed back from the table and headed for the elevator.
“Way to go!” Peeta muttered to himself as he rolled his eyes at how awkward he was.
After lunch, it was more of the same. Peeta tried his best to be friendly and chatty, but Katniss just wasn’t having any of it. As the end the day approached, both of them seemed eager to leave. Especially since Peeta was beginning to feel like the walls were closing in on him. He was grateful as he and Katniss both muddled uneventfully through the next day together to get their presentation done.
As Peeta woke slowly the following morning, he tried his best to mentally prepare for yet another day with Katniss the Cactus. He gave himself a quick pep talk as he gradually readied for work, knowing Seneca would arrive Thursday morning eager to check out the new joint proposal. On the bright side, he had confirmed plans with NatureLvr0508 for later that evening. The two had even exchanged phone numbers the night before in anticipation of their meeting. Peeta hadn’t gotten up the nerve to text her yet. The thought sent the butterflies in his stomach into overdrive. Although, he still liked the mystery that surrounded her. It made it that much more exciting to finally see her face and learn her name tonight.
“Someone’s chipper today.” Peeta remarked with a smirk as he noted the marked difference in his partner’s mood. He had caught Katniss singing softly to herself as she bustled around the workroom at the office that morning.
“You scared me!” She gasped and grabbed her chest at the unexpected sound of his voice. She shot him a look.
“Sorry.” He offered as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled each of them to his elbows. “What are you working on?” He asked as he came alongside her.
“Just wanted to make sure everything was set for tomorrow morning.” She replied.
“I can help.” He said as he reached for a stack of pages.
“No, I got it.” Katniss replied as she reached for the stack of pages at the same time.
Their arms bumped and their hands met on top of the papers. Katniss blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear as she pulled away from Peeta’s touch. He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pant pockets. They were quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of the copy machine.
“I’ll head to the conference room then.” He offered, not knowing what else to say. Katniss nodded and went back to her task.
After some time, Katniss joined Peeta and the two settled into their work making final preparations. The morning quickly turned into the afternoon. While the hours ticked by, Peeta felt himself checking his watch more and more, growing impatient for the time to come when he could safely leave.
“Got somewhere to be?” Katniss asked, glancing his way.
“Yeah, sorta.” Peeta admitted, noticing it was growing closer to six.
“I’ll finish up here.” Katniss said giving him a reassuring smile.
“You sure?” Peeta confirmed, moving back from the table.
“Yeah. Have a nice night, Peeta.” She offered gently.
Peeta thanked her and gathered his things from his desk. He headed home to prep for his date. By seven o’clock, he gave himself one last glance in the mirror and headed for Abernathy’s. He figured there wouldn’t be much of a crowd since it was a Wednesday night. He was happy to see the table in front of the window was empty as he had promised his date he’d be there. He sat down, wiping his palms across his thighs, willing his heart to slow. He took a deep breath and stared expectantly out the window, waiting anxiously for her. Although, no amount of deep breaths could have prepared him for the way he felt the moment someone unexpected stepped into the restaurant.
Prompt 72: Peeta and Katniss are rival co-workers. Somehow, they end up going out on a blind date. [submitted by Anonymous]
Chapter 1
Peeta knocked on the front door as the sounds of children’s footsteps and laughter seemed to approach quickly from behind it.
“Uncle Peeta!” A short, curly haired, blond boy stood gleaming up at him as the door swung open.
“Uncle Peeta!” A girl’s voice echoed standing beside the boy.
“Hey, you two!” He smiled back, ruffling both of their hair.
“You guys, move! Let him in.” A man’s voice chastised, coming down the hall. Peeta looked up to see his friend, Finnick, moving toward them with a baby on his hip. Finnick motioned for the children to move as he greeted Peeta with a smile and invited him in. Peeta squeezed the cheeks of the baby Finnick held as he shut the door and they made their way to the kitchen.
“Hey, Annie.” Peeta greeted Finnick’s wife as she stood at the stove.
Annie turned with a smile. She rubbed a hand over her round belly as she reached to grab the child from her husband’s arms. “How are you?” She inquired as she sat the small boy in his high chair. Peeta watched as Finnick moved to the cupboard to grab food for the baby, while Annie opened a drawer and handed Finnick a small spoon without a word. Peeta was always impressed with how flawlessly these two worked together.
“I’m ok. I have a big presentation coming up at work I’m a little nervous about.” He confessed. Annie turned back to the stove, while Finnick watched the baby fist bits of food to his mouth.
“What are you nervous about?” Finnick inquired as he attempted to spoon a bite to his son’s mouth. Just then the two older children ran into the kitchen making a loud ruckus. Annie turned from the stove and shot them both a look. They instantly quieted and left the room without a noise or protest.
“I’m not the only one vying for the account. I’m up against Katniss on this one.” Peeta replied. He watched as Annie and Finnick exchanged a look. “What? What was that?” He asked.
“Huh?” Annie asked innocently.
“What was with that look you just gave each other when I said that? You don’t think I can beat her for it?” He queried.
Finnick sighed, “Dude, will you just ask her out already? How long have you worked together, four-five years?” Finnick asked with a roll of his eyes. “I think it’s time.”
“I’m not asking her out!”
Peeta replied incredulously as he stood to make his way to the refrigerator. “Why would you even suggest that?” He continued as he reached in to retrieve a bottle of beer. As he turned, he noticed Finnick motion for him to hand him one too. Peeta obliged and returned to his seat at the kitchen island.
“Well, you’re not getting any younger, Peeta.” Annie began. “And you haven’t dated anybody seriously in a long time, and you seem to talk about her quite a bit.” She continued gently.
“If I do it’s because she drives me crazy.” Peeta replied taking a swig.
“Yeah, well this one drives me crazy too.” Finnick teased as he stood to envelop Annie in a hug, planting several kisses along her neck.
“Yeah, maybe you two should take it easy on that.” Peeta said with a smirk eyeing Annie’s very pregnant belly, motioning toward it with his bottle.
Finnick rolled his eyes as he made his way back to the baby. “Is this one of those times where you want me to lie to protect your oh so delicate feelings?” He asked, taking a drink. Peeta gave him a tired look. “As your best friend, I think it’s time you get your head out of your ass-“
“Language, Finnick!” Annie barked.
“Sorry, get your head out of your butt and start trying to find someone long term. The whole eternal bachelor thing isn’t really cute anymore. Your last relationship was over a year ago? You can’t spend your life married to your job!” Finnick finished.
“I thought you guys invited me over for dinner, not a lecture.” Peeta mumbled.
“Oh, my friend Cressida was telling me about this new dating website.” Annie started, then snapped her fingers trying to spark the memory of the name. “Blind-something-or-other…” she trailed off.
“Blind date?” Finnick offered, giving his wife a curious look.
“Yes, that’s it!” She exclaimed excitedly. “I guess it’s unique in that you don’t post a profile picture or anything, and you just get to know a person first.”
“What a novel idea.” Peeta muttered before finishing off his beer.
“What could it hurt?” Annie asked as she pulled the pot from the stove. She gave him a knowing look, and all Peeta could do was shrug.
As Peeta made his way into his apartment later that night, his friends’ words swirled around his head. He wondered if he could ever consider Katniss Everdeen as anything more than a colleague. Especially now that she was beginning to encroach on his carefully guarded territory at work. Truthfully, he was miffed that she had been offered the Crane account before him. Although if he was honest, she was very attractive with her steel gray eyes, dark hair and pouty lips. And for some reason, that he had yet to consider, he always seemed to find his way over by her each day, even if it was just to give her a hard time. But he was pretty sure she hated him regardless, seeing as Peeta had never been particularly friendly to her.
He grabbed himself a beer from his refrigerator and plopped down on the couch, taking a swig. He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it to the side, sitting in his undershirt and pants. So what if he wanted to devote most of his time to his work? He found it very rewarding. ‘But you can’t cuddle with your job at night’, his heart reminded him in betrayal. He pulled his laptop onto his lap from the coffee table, giving a heavy sigh. With fingers poised over the keyboard, he finally relented typing www.blinddate.com into the navigation bar.
Prompt 72: Peeta and Katniss are rival co-workers. Somehow, they end up going out on a blind date. [submitted by Anonymous]
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
When Peeta arrived to work the next morning he sat down at his computer only to realize he had about eight different messages waiting for him on blinddate.com. He looked around the office to be sure no one else was around yet to see him investigating:
Message from ShimmerGlimmer: Hey you! Liked your profile. Chat me back!
Message from L33g1: Hey, I really enjoy the fine art of baking too. Maybe we could chat sometime? Message me!
Message from Stylist2Stars: MuffinM4n, you seem sexy. Let’s chat ;-)
Message from RedHead: Hello, I love art too! I work mostly with pencil. What’s your favorite medium? Hit me back, let’s chat!
Message from Tiny_Trinket: Hello, I don’t mean to nag, but I noticed several spelling and grammatical errors in your profile. Please message me as soon as possible so we can discuss. I’ve got big, big, big plans for your profile to make it shine!
Message from slyfoxgirl5: I love cooking too! I particularly love experimenting with different berries and herbs in my dishes.
Message from Baria2: Hey MuffinM4n, you sound good enough to eat. Let’s take a bite out of this relationship thing together!
Message from NatureLvr0508: Thanks for checking out my profile. I’m new to online dating too. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but my friend says I can’t date my job anymore, so…here I am! I’d love to chat more sometime.
This last one made Peeta laugh, especially thinking how true her words spoke to his own life and what his friends had lectured him about a couple of days ago.
Message to NatureLvr0508: I just got a lecture about dating my job too. What do you do for a living?
It was only a moment later when her reply came:
Message from NatureLvr0508: Good morning! I have a typical 9-5 office job (although most days are like 8-8). I love what I do though. I get to be creative. Never a dull moment in advertising :) You?
Peeta was excited to see they already had something in common.
Message to NatureLvr0508: Good morning! I’m in advertising too. It can be very exciting for sure. I see you like photography. How long have you been doing that?
Message from NatureLvr0508: My dad taught me how to shoot when I was very young. Like maybe seven or eight years old. It’s so relaxing and fun. I see you like art too?
Message to NatureLvr0508: Wow! Most of your life? You must have quite a portfolio. I’d love to see it sometime. I’m into painting. I do a lot of drawing and computer design for work, so when I can get my hands on a paintbrush it’s totally liberating…and relaxing like you said.
Message from NatureLvr0508: Sorry to cut this short, but I have a pretty big day ahead at work that I need to prep for. Hopefully we can chat later?
Message to NatureLvr0508: Definitely! I look forward to it.
Peeta smiled to himself thinking that went well. A buzz from his cell phone startled him.
“Annie wanted me to ask if you signed up for that dating website.” Finnick’s text read.
Peeta chuckled and replied, “She’s worried about that at eight o’clock in the AM?”
“Kids = no sleep” Finnick replied.
“You can tell her I did. Already started messaging with someone.” Peeta reassured him.
“Tell her we can talk about it when I come for dinner tomorrow. Big presentation to prep. Wish me luck!” Peeta said.
“Luck!” Finnick offered.
Peeta rubbed the back of his neck and pulled up his notes for his presentation. He had to be flawless. He had to wow them more than Katniss would. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt he had to beat her out for this. It’s not like he didn’t already have plenty of accounts under his belt. Perhaps it was personal, the fact that Heavensbee hadn’t reached out to him first? Whatever it was, he wanted this account and would stop at nothing to get it.
Prompt 1. I’d like an AU with Peeta as a single dad with a kid who’s always getting in trouble. Katniss is the kid’s teacher. Love follows :) [submitted by Anonymous]
The Aim of Artemis by @pinksnailsaver
Prompt 2: Before the Quarter Quell. The victors decide to include Katniss and Peeta in their plans for the rebellion. [submitted by Anonymous]
Reformation by @wildlyglittering
Prompt 3: Historical everlark (Georgian or Victorian era) and with Peeta as a ‘reformed rake’ and a jealous Katniss at one point… an E rating would be the icing on the cake(!) thank you so much for what you do!❤️ [submitted by Anonymous]
The Misunderstanding (Part Five) by @mega-aulover
Prompt 4: Any Everlark honeymoon fics for Valentine’s Day? [submitted by @amazinglovers747]
In the Waiting Dark (The Red Moon Rises) by @katnissdoesnotfollowback
Prompt 5. Everlark fairytale au of Little Red Riding Hood, preferably similar in tone to the film “The Company of Wolves”. [submitted by Anonymous]
Not a Walk in the Park by @booksrockmyface
Prompt 6: Hi! I’d love to see the toast babies as bratty teenagers. Thanks :) [submitted by Anonymous]
Perhaps… Maybe? by @everllarkingnewtina
Prompt 7: Everlark Fifty Shades AU but Peeta doesn’t have emotional hang-ups, Katniss does. So Katniss will be reluctant to have a real, emotional relationship with Peeta 👀 [submitted by Anonymous]
Never Been Kissed by @thegirlfromoverthepond
Prompt 8. Practice kissing - (BFFs, 16ish) Peeta gets a first date and admits to Katniss he’s never kissed a girl and he’s nervous. She offers to help him learn after telling him she hasn’t been kissed, either. It’s magical! I’d like Peeta to go on the date and realize he doesn’t want to kiss anyone but Katniss. ;) [submitted by @peetabreadgirl]
Perspective by @roseymama
Prompt 10: A coworker of one that is a friend of the other tries to set Katniss and Peeta up not knowing that they are already dating. [submitted by @booksrockmyface]
LBJ by @peetabreadgirl
Prompt 12: Katniss is trying to study in the library, but she can’t keep her eyes from wandering over to Peeta, who’s reading a comic book a few tables over. [submitted by Anonymous]
No Rain by @ally147writes
Prompt 14: I’d love to read a story where either K or P has done something stupid and has to grovel (but not infidelity)… [submitted by Anonymous]
Dandelion in the Spring by @everllarkingnewtina
Prompt 15: Canon-Divergent where Katniss realizes she loves Peeta the night before the Quarter Quell, she tells him and they have sex. In D13, she finds she got pregnant, and while she’s sad that Peeta isn’t with her, she’s happy to be carrying Peetas child. Because should he not return to her, she has a piece of him with her to love. It also gives her the strength to try to rescue Peeta. And to help him constructively recover from the hijacking :). [submitted by Anonymous]
Fight to Get Him Back by @albinokittens300
Prompt 16: Au where hijacked Peeta is told he killed Katniss and has to deal with the guilt of killing the only girl he’s ever loved, and then later once he’s mostly back to himself he’s told she’s actually fine [submitted by Anonymous]
Spin it Around Again by @moviefangal
Prompt 19: Visual Prompt [submitted by Anonymous]
Clash by @peetazeus
Prompt 20: The Amazing Race AU where Katniss & Gale are teammates, Peeta & Madge or Delly are one of the other teams. They’re neck and neck in the contest, but Peeta & his partner are having more fun because hotheads Katniss & Gale keep fighting/are too competitive. New challenge! Switch partners. What happens next? ;-) [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Mockingjay Inn by @burkygirl
Prompt 25: Katniss and Peeta are both frequent pop-in guests at an out of the way little B&B or boutique hotel. One weekend it is surprisingly booked up and the manager asks if they can share a suite in an effort to be less of an inconvenience for such loyal customers and since they sort of know each other. [submitted by @roseymama]
When There’s Nothing To Lose by @nancymay
Prompt 26: “A drabble where Peeta is from the Seam and Katniss is a Merchant but he’s still the one with the crush??? Sorry if it’s too specific ahah i just never read something quite like that ” (sent to me many moons ago via anon). [submitted by @titaniasfics]
Funny How it Goes by @thestuckinbed
Prompt 26: “A drabble where Peeta is from the Seam and Katniss is a Merchant but he’s still the one with the crush??? Sorry if it’s too specific ahah i just never read something quite like that ” (sent to me many moons ago via anon). [submitted by @titaniasfics]
Sanctuary by @titaniasfics
Prompt 27: Katniss’s father is an undocumented worker, Peeta is a sympathetic federal agent sent to investigate or an employer willing to do anything to help. [submitted by @567inpanem]
P.R.I.M: Pranks Resulting in Matrimony by @ghtlovesthg
Prompt 28: Noting tension between Katniss and the baker’s youngest son, carefree and mischievous Prim can’t resist pranking her annoyingly uptight and very responsible sister. [submitted by @567inpanem]
Calling It by @cascadingpearls
Prompt 31: “Okay so I’m in the mood for some slight angst so I was wondering if you could possibly do Everlark breaking up because of a misunderstanding but of course they get back together after it’s resolved.” (anon request) [submitted by @titaniasfics]
A Glass Coffin by @andthisisthewonder
Prompt 34: “I know how to fire a gun, patch up bullet wounds, hide in plain sight, find food, rob stores; you need me and you know it.” [submitted by Anonymous]
The Misunderstanding (Part Four) by @mega-aulover
Prompt 36: Visual Prompt [submitted by @567inpanem]
The Misunderstanding (Part One) by @mega-aulover
Prompt 40: Katniss and Peeta are enemies and competing against the other. Can be as kids or adults. [submitted by @peetaspikelets]
The Misunderstanding (Part Two) by @mega-aulover
Prompt 41: Katniss and Peeta are strangers/or enemies at a theme park. They end up sitting next to each other on a ride before it breaks down and they can’t get off. [submitted by @peetaspikelets]
The Misunderstanding (Part Three) by @mega-aulover
Prompt 42: Everlark gets a puppy/kitten/other baby animal. Kill me with cuteness :) [submitted by Anonymous]
What Goes Around by @wildlyglittering
Prompt 44: Peeta has a gf before entering college where she meets Katniss. K&P are both in the same major/dept. They break up and he and Katniss become really close and everybody thinks they’re a thing but part of Katniss thinks he’s not over his ex so he never asks her out even if they have chemistry and all. Something happens and the ex ends up transferring to the same major/dept and Katniss is extremely frustrated because she’s fallen for Peeta but the ex is trying to make sure Peeta never gets over her [submitted by Anonymous]
Mellarked by @mellarkablegirl
Prompt 48: "You just got Mellarked, baby.“ [submitted by @littleevilisa]
4 Dinners and a Funeral by @historywriter2007
Prompt 49: Haymitch has died and Katniss and Peeta , who are just acquaintances, have to drive across the country together to take his ashes to where he wanted them scattered. Haymitch may appear at times during the journey in spirit form. [submitted by Anonymous] by @historywriter2007
Why I Went to the Woods by @javistg
Prompt 51: Postwar: isolated Katniss did not sit frozen in that quiet tomb of a house, suffocating! She ran madly into the woods. It’s years before anyone sees her again. What’s become of 12, Gale, Haymitch, mom…of Peeta? [submitted by @567inpanem]
The Naked Truth by @peetaspikelets
Prompt 53: Dialogue prompt: this has got to be the strangest day of my life… [submitted by @xerxia31]
The Misunderstanding (Part Six) by @mega-aulover
Prompt 56: We know that Katniss has always feared becoming a mother, but what if Peeta starts to become nervous about being a father when he remembers how his family treated him when he was younger? Katniss knows she is better with actions than words so, to prove that he will be a good father, she gathers up some of the children Peeta has interacted with at the bakery/ snuck extra sweets to:) [submitted by Anonymous]
Tripple Dog Date Him! by @alliswell21
Prompt 57: I would love a fic where Katniss is dared to ask ‘nerdy Peeta’ out on a date and she actually ends up enjoying her time out with him :) [submitted by Anonymous]
Innocence Within by @alliswell21
Prompt 59: So a lighthearted canon divergent story where Snow’s hijacking kinda backfires and instead of Peeta being murderous and crazy he reverts into a childlike state and he pulls on Katniss’ braid and draws her pictures to let her know that he LIKES LIKES her [submitted by @elaine-spades]
The Maiden and the Scoundrel by @appleblossomgirl0305
Prompt 63: Historical AU: Katniss has been engaged to Peeta’s older brother since they were children, but upon meeting a Capitolite, the groom-to-be breaks the engagement, leaving Katniss devastated and feeling rejected. To avoid more scandal and loosing K’s dowry, the Mellark’s hurry to offer a new betrothal to their youngest son. Neither P or K are very happy about the new arrangement, P is a known womanizer and K is too puritanical. They gradually fall in love… make it as smutty as you like :) [submitted by @alliswell21]
Would this have happened anyway? by @florence68blog
Prompt 66: Would love to read a canon divergent fic that explores what Peeta says about "a lot of guys liking Katniss”. This could cover a lot of tropes: no games, arranged marriage, friends to lovers, or this would have happened anyway. Would love to see Katniss more open to her feelings and the possibility of love. Would love to see how Peeta would win Katniss over with more than just Gale as competition. [submitted by Anonymous] by @florence68blog
Together by @albinokittens300
Part 2
Prompt 69: Hijacked Peeta with an everlark toast baby in D13. Enough said [submitted by @elaine-spades]
Prompt #1: I’d like an AU with Peeta as a single dad with a kid who’s always getting in trouble. Katniss is the kid’s teacher. Love follows :) [submitted by Anonymous]
Written by: @xerxia31
Notes: This is part one of what will likely be a three part arc. This chapter is rated T for strong language.
——
I rap my knuckles against the doorframe, more out of habit than necessity. Haymitch has an open door policy, at least where I’m concerned. He glances up from his desk, looking more haggard than usual, but when he sees me his eyes soften. “Sweetheart,” he rasps. “Come on in.”
If anyone else dared to call Katniss Everdeen sweetheart, I’d probably punch them. But Haymitch Abernathy is my late father’s longtime friend, and the closest thing to a parent I have.
He’s also, as principal of District Twelve Elementary School, my boss.
I slide into the chair across from him, shaking my head as he tilts his towards the desk drawer, an unspoken offer of a drink. Instead, I wait. Haymitch and I are long past small talk. With a smirk, he pushes a manilla folder across the desk. “New kid for your class,” he says.
“What’s the catch?” I ask. Mid-year transfers aren’t uncommon, certainly not worth actually calling me into his office to talk about. I pick up the slim folder, weighing it thoughtfully. I teach first grade, so my student files are never very thick, but this one seems to have a few more pages than typical. Curious, I flip it open. Stapled to the first page is a small picture of the new student. He’s cute. Most of the kids that filter in and out of my class are cute, six-year-olds usually are. But this little guy is cuter than average, an over-long mop of golden curls over pale blue eyes, chubby cheeks and a gap-toothed grin. “Max Van Allen,” I read aloud.
“He comes with a bit of a reputation.” Haymitch says. I raise an eyebrow, and he continues. “D-Two calls him a troublemaker.”
I glance back at the wallet-sized picture. It’s hard to believe the little cherub pictured could be a hellion. But flipping through the pages of incident reports gives a very different picture. Doesn’t listen. Doesn’t play well with other children. Disruptive. Then again, District Two has a reputation for being a somewhat stricter school, located as it is in the most affluent part of the state.
“You dragged me in here at lunch just to saddle me with a brat? Why don’t you put him in Beetee’s class? I’m pretty sure it’s his turn.”
“I got you out of playground supervision, Sweetheart,” he growls, and I smirk because it’s true, and he knows supervising the kids post-lunch, when they’re antsy and hopped up on juice, is my least favourite activity. After a moment he shrugs. “Besides, you’re a better fit for this one.”
My smartass retort dies on my tongue as I skim little Max’s contact information. Mother: deceased. “Oh,” I say softly, understanding, and he nods.
“Happened last summer. Figured you’d remember how that felt, maybe understand the kid better than Beetee could.”
I was a little older than Max when I lost my father, but I remember the pain and confusion as if it were yesterday. And I’m sure Haymitch remembers how sullen I was back then. How disruptive my sister Prim was. How long it took us to get over his loss.
Not that we ever did. Not fully anyway. And Haymitch knows that too. I sigh. “When does he start?”
“Monday.”
——
Max turns out to be a charming, gregarious little fellow. He marches into my class his first day with a smile and a single sunshine-frosted cookie in a glassine envelope, ‘for my new teacher’. He enthrals the school bus driver and the lunch lady too, effortlessly. And for the first few days it feels like District Two and Haymitch have exaggerated the potential for trouble.
But the bloom is off the rose quickly.
Though he can be sweet, he’s clearly not accustomed to compromise. He’s bossy and demanding, doesn’t like to share, is quick to throw tantrums and lash out when he doesn’t get his way. By the end of week two, the staff are throwing around words like ‘spoiled’ and ‘menace’.
I try partnering him with different kids every day, trying to ease him into our routines, find a comfortable fit for him, but each choice is less and less successful. Soon enough, he’s spending more time in time out than actually interacting with the other students. And as his behaviour deteriorates, the other kids stop wanting to play with him, which makes things worse. Max becomes progressively angrier, often brooding. Refuses to do his seatwork. Refuses to engage in the lessons. A few gentle notes home suggesting that Max is having trouble integrating come back with vague scrawled promises of talking to him. But if anything, the situation worsens. He becomes belligerent, seems to take a sadistic pleasure in pushing buttons - mine and the rest of the staff’s. I’m forced to send him to Haymitch repeatedly.
“I don’t know what to do with him,” I admit to my mentor one lunch break over turkey sandwiches (for me) and scotch (for Haymitch). “He can be really sweet sometimes. But he’s so angry, so mad at the world.”
“Sound familiar, Sweetheart?” Haymitch laughs. He’s right, of course. I could be describing myself fifteen years ago.
“What can I do?” I don’t like to seem incompetent, but I’m truly at a loss. And I know Haymitch placed Max with me because he thinks I can help.
“Kid doesn’t have a mother. Maybe he needs a mother figure in his life, at least for a few hours a day?”
I snort. “Haymitch, I’d be shitty at that. You know I don’t want kids.”
“I also know that’s because you love them, and are too damned afraid of seeing them get hurt like you were.” It’s hard to argue with that. So I shrug. But I’m no closer to figuring out what to do with Max.
——
It’s a Wednesday morning, just about a month after Max arrived, and I glance over at his desk. The other children are all happily colouring and cutting out drawings of clothing for our vocabulary lesson, and chatting among themselves. But Max is staring out the window. Instead of the angry face he’s been wearing almost constantly, what I see now is a sad, lonely little boy. And my heart breaks for him.
So when lunchtime comes, I ask my classroom helper to walk the other children down to the lunch room.
But I keep Max behind.
He sits as his desk, head hanging, tearing a piece of paper into tiny scraps. “I’d like to talk with you, Max,” I start. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” He shrugs. “It seems like you’re not very happy here,” I start and his blue eyes snap up to mine.
“Are you going to send me away now?” He’s wearing his typical defiant expression, but his bottom lip trembles. And though I’ve taught over a hundred kids in the four years I’ve been with District Twelve, there’s something about this little guy in particular that tugs pretty hard at my heartstrings. Maybe it’s because I see so much of myself in his tough exterior and tender heart.
“No Max, I’m your teacher and this is your classroom until you’re ready to move up to second grade. You’re going to stay here with me for the rest of the year.” I hope I’m telling him the truth, I’m uncertain of the reason for his mid-year move, though I assume it has something to do with his mother’s death. But I think what he needs, more than anything, is some stability. And if I can give him that, I will.
“But I’m a bad boy,” he says.
“You’re not bad,” I tell him, but he’s looking out the window again. “Max,” I say gently, then wait until he turns to me. His soft blue eyes shimmer. “You’re not a bad boy. Sometimes you do things without thinking carefully, but you’re not bad. Okay?”
“Papa says I’m bad. That’s why I’m here.” The tears overflow and I instinctively open my arms to him. He clings tightly, crying on my shoulder.
“You’re a good person, Max.” My voice is a little rough and I have to speak around the lump in my throat. “You’re a really special kid, and I like you a lot.” At those words he pulls back a bit, utterly perplexed, and I wonder if no one has told him that they like him? How could that be?
But then I think back to my own childhood. When my father died I desperately needed an adult to tell me everything was going to be okay. And for the longest time, there was no one. My mother fell apart when she lost her husband, incapable of supporting her children emotionally. Until Haymitch stepped in, Prim and I were tetherless, angry and so very afraid. I can see in little Max a lot of the same fear and confusion. And I vow to help him.
——
After our talk, there are some improvements in Max’s behaviour. Not a lot, and they’re subtle, but I see them.
He looks to me more and more frequently for guidance, when he’s struggling to get along with one of his peers. And because I’m keeping a close eye on him, I’m able to encourage him in a way that doesn’t look like an intervention.
He comes to me for comfort too. I do what I can, but my hands are a little tied by the school board and by regulations and by the simple fact that with twenty-six children in my classroom my time is limited. But he gladly takes what little I offer, blossoming like a dandelion under a few words of praise.
All of which makes me angrier and angrier with his father, this man who tells his son that he’s a ‘bad boy’, who clearly isn’t offering the child what he needs, emotionally.
The day that the children draw family portraits, and Max’s shows just a single, tiny figure in front of a large house, I know I have to do something more. The only thing I can think of is to meet with the asshole father, to try to reason with him in person. So I ask Effie, our secretary, to set something up.
——
Mr. Van Allen and his son are a study in the power of genetics.
Standing in my classroom doorway, they could be the same person, twenty-some years apart. Blond hair, fair skin, stocky builds. Both wear identical expressions of unease.
When Max notices me, his little face lights up, and he runs across the room to hug me. I ruffle his hair and grin, but then I glance at his father, who looks stunned. I turn my attention back to the important person in the room. “Hello Max,” I say, and he beams at me. “Would you like to show your papa where your desk is?” It’s an easy way to make the parent more comfortable, and to give the child a modicum of control over the situation. Most kids love it. Max scowls.
“He’s not my papa,” he grumbles, not even sparing the blond man a glance. “That’s Peeta.”
I glance up in confusion. The man shifting uncomfortably in the doorway is obviously related to little Max, they’re virtual clones. “I’m Max’s father,” he confirms tightly, his neck and cheeks flooding with colour. He can barely make eye contact as he walks towards us. I wonder if he has a bad temper.
“Miss Everdeen,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand, which is huge and clammy. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Van Allen.”
“Oh, it’s uh, Mellark,” he says, and the flush deepens. “Peeta Mellark. Max has his late mother’s name.”
Oh.
I take an absolutely inappropriate glance at Max’s father’s left hand. Bare, not that the lack of a wedding band means anything. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, confused. “I thought it said Van Allen in the record.” Mr. Mellark nods.
“Max was living with his maternal grandparents until fairly recently. Their names are probably still in there.”
Oh.
“Right,” I murmur, and vow to kick Haymitch in the shin tomorrow morning. Jerk could have warned me. “Max,” I say, turning my attention back to the moppet who is now holding my hand. “Will you show your father your desk?”
So not only is Max’s dad an asshole, he’s a deadbeat asshole.
But even as I think it, I can’t reconcile that with the man standing in front of me, blue eyes wide and wary, shoulders hunched in defeat. He looks nearly as frightened as a kindergartener on the first day of school.
Letting Max show his papa - no, his father - his desk also allows me to observe them, watch their interactions. I’ve left a folder of Max’s schoolwork on the desk, Mr. Mellark seems genuinely interested in Max’s creations, smiling, offering praise. But Max shows him the papers mechanically, not engaging with the older man in anything other than a superficial manner. Hostile, even.
I’m completely bewildered.
“Max,” I call gently when the silence has stretched between them too long. Two pairs of blue eyes swing to mine, shining with frustration. “I set up a new story at the music station for you.” A huge smile stretches across his face, story time is his favourite and while audiobooks aren’t as much fun as sitting on the carpet listening to a book read live, they’re still pretty great.
While Max listens to his story, giant headphones perched on his golden head, I sit at my desk with his father. Before I can start, he speaks. “I know Max can be difficult, but underneath he’s a really good kid, I promise you that.” His face is earnest, almost begging me to see his son as worthy.
“I know,” I say, confused. I wasn’t expecting him to defend Max, and so vehemently. Startled blue eyes meet my own.
“You do?”
“Well yeah, of course.”
Mr. Mellark’s shoulders sag in relief. At my expression, he continues. “The staff in District Two, they completely demonized the poor kid, made it seem like he was incorrigible.” He clears his throat.
“Is that why you switched schools?” It comes out a little more terse than I mean it to. But if this guy is accustomed to just running away from his problems I want to know, and I want to ensure he’s not going to do that to Max again.
“Uh, no.” Mr. Mellark won’t meet my eyes, staring out the window in much the same way his son often does. “District Two is close to Max’s grandparents’s house, but I live in Victor’s Village.” It’s a community not far from where I myself live in the Seam. “And now that he lives with me…” he trails off, shrugging.
It doesn’t make any sense. I know Max’s mother died over the summer, why did they have him start first grade at District Two if his father lives here? But it’s not my place to debate their choices, only to ensure that Max is getting the support he needs.
“Max is having a lot of trouble adjusting,” I say, switching tack. “He’s generally unhappy, and he’s not bonding with any of his classmates. I’m worried–” I cut off my sentence abruptly as Max comes running across the classroom.
“Miss Everdeen, guess what?” he says, nestling right up to me, and I can’t help but grin. Away from the other kids, from the stress and confusion of the classroom, he really is a sweetie. Without conscious thought, I push his over-long curls out of his eyes as he animatedly tells me what Mouse is doing in the book so far. His gap-toothed grin is huge. After a quick accounting, he agrees to go back and listen to more of the story, and skips back across the classroom.
I’m still smiling when I turn back to his father, but my smile falters a little at the pained expression on his face. He’s looking over at his son with such sadness, I’d almost call it longing. Only then do I realize that Max hadn’t shared anything about the book with his father, hadn’t even spared Mr. Mellark a glance as far as I can tell. Clearly, something is fundamentally shattered in the relationship between father and son, and that’s far beyond my abilities to address.
“Have you thought about maybe taking Max to talk with a grief counsellor?” It’s always dicey, suggesting professional help to parents. Far too often what they hear is ‘your child is broken and it’s your fault’. But Mr. Mellark doesn’t go on the defensive. Instead, he smiles ruefully, his eyes still fixed on Max.
“We’re on our third psychologist since the move,” he sighs.
“I’m sure his mother’s death has been very confusing for him,” I say. He grimaces, still watching Max. “And, uhm. And for you too,” I add awkwardly. At that, Mr. Mellark huffs out a laugh, though there’s no mirth in his expression.
“Can I be frank with you?” he asks, sliding his eyes to mine. For the first time, I see the anger I was expecting. It somehow centres me, makes me remember that this douchecanoe is failing his kid in every way.
“Sure,” I offer, leaning back and crossing my arms.
He turns his attention back to Max, oblivious in his headphones. “I don’t think Max had much of a relationship with his mother. I don’t know for sure though because…” he trails off, his jaw tensing, as if it’s physically painful to talk. I wait him out. Finally, he continues. “Because I didn’t know Max existed until after she died.”
What?
He’s silent for so long that I’m sure he isn’t going to explain. Finally, he sighs, and it’s as if the anger flows out of him with that sound. “Glimmer - his mother - she and I went to college together. I didn’t know her very well, but we had some mutual friends. We hooked up once, at a party in junior year.”
“And she got pregnant.” I want to slap myself for saying it out loud because duh. But he’s not looking at me anyway.
“Yeah, apparently. But she didn’t tell me. I never saw her again, never spoke with her again. Her parents have been taking care of Max since he was born.”
“How did…” I gesture helplessly between him and where Max sits, blessedly unaware of our conversation.
“The Van Allens tracked me down. Thankfully, Glimmer had at least named me on Max’s birth certificate, even if she never told me.” His voice drips with resentment. “They’re elderly. Mrs. Van Allen has a lot of health concerns and Mr. Van Allen has no patience. They just weren’t up to the task of caring for Max. I think they believed Glimmer would eventually give up her party ways and be a mother to Max. But that didn’t happen. And it never will now.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, because I am, and because I have no idea what else to say. So Max isn’t reeling from the loss of one parent, but of two; his grandparents. “Does Max still see his grandparents?”
“He’s seen them a few times, but they just can’t keep up with him now that he’s older and more active. He tires them out too quickly.” He sighs. “They love him, I know that. But they never set any limits for him, he never had any rules. And Glimmer wandered in and out of his life, she wasn’t around enough to parent him. He ruled the roost.”
“So Max is having trouble adjusting to your authority?” He shakes his head sadly.
“He barely even acknowledges my existence,” he admits softly. We both fall quiet, I’m forced to examine the assumptions I’d made, both about Max and his father, and see how wrong most of them were. Armed with this new information, I can’t help but feel awful for both of the blonds sitting in my classroom.
“Max, ah. He seems to like you very much.” Mr. Mellark’s quiet assertion snaps me out of my reverie.
“I like him too.” I glance over at Max, who is again absorbed in his audiobook.
“He hasn’t really bonded with any of my family, with anyone at all, really. And we’re working on that with the psychologist. But I wonder, if. Well…” He trails off. His ears are pink-tipped again, and he won’t meet my eyes. “You’re the only person he seems to have any sort of attachment to.”
“What do you mean?”
“Max talks about you, Miss Everdeen. You’re the only thing he’s mentioned about school at all. And I wonder…” He trails off as Max, clearly having listened to the entire thirty minute run time of the audiobook, takes off the giant headphones and wanders back over to us. Again, he approaches my side of the desk, not his father’s. Mr. Mellark looks stricken.
I had intended on speaking with them about behaviour rewards, but I can see that adhesive stars aren’t going to make any difference in this case. Though I’m not a psychologist, I have a strong feeling that what they truly need is each other. And maybe that’s something I can nudge along. “We have a class parent program here,” I start, keeping my voice light but willing Mr. Mellark to understand. “Volunteers who come in for a couple of hours a week to help with arts and crafts, or story time.”
His blue eyes shine with understanding… and gratitude. “I could definitely spare a couple of afternoons from the bakery,” Mr. Mellark says. “Would that be alright with you, Max?” Max shrugs, but I catch a hint of interest behind his indifferent mask.
——
This man is made to be a parent.
Mr. Mellark - Peeta - has spent ninety minutes in my classroom each Tuesday and Friday afternoon for the past two weeks. And he is so, so good with the children. He’s boundlessly patient, even when Lila knocked her jar of paint water over for the fourth time. His smiles and gentle words have charmed every kid in the class.
Well, every child but one.
Max sometimes glances at his father with curiosity, but resists interacting directly. But Peeta tries, over and over.
My heart hurts for both of them.
After today’s art project, the kids line up to file outside for recess with my teaching aide. Peeta tries to say goodbye to Max but, as usual, Max is having none of it, refusing to acknowledge his father at all, shrugging off the gentle hand Peeta sets on his shoulder, and marching away.
I stay behind, watching Peeta gather up papers and supplies, stacking them neatly for me. He’s so considerate, so unlike what I was expecting. And I don’t think it’s just an act for the classroom. I’ve spoken with him on the phone a few times, planning for his classroom visits, discussing Max’s behaviour, and, yeah, just chatting. He’s nice to talk to, always calm, steady, kind. I don’t make friends easily but Peeta, like his son, crept up on me.
Today though, I can see in the way his shoulders are hunched that he’s completely dispirited.
“Hey,” I say, coming to stand beside him. He glances away, sucking in a shuddering breath.
“He hates me. My own son hates me.” There’s no self-pity in his voice. Just resignation.
“He doesn’t hate you, Peeta,” I tell him, and reach out to gently touch his arm. “He’s afraid to love you. Because everyone he’s ever loved has left him.”
Peeta lifts his eyes, holding mine in a way that makes every hair on my body stand up; makes me feel like, in that moment, he can see straight into my soul, read the fear and loneliness of my own early years as clearly as the chalkboard behind us. But instead of calling attention to my history, dissecting my pain, he merely sighs and asks, “What can I do?”
“Show him that you’re not going anywhere, and neither is he. Make sure he knows this is permanent, that you’re his daddy forever.”
“I’ve missed out on so much already, Katniss. His first smile, his first steps, his first word. I can’t get that time back. To him, I’m just some stranger who stole him away from his home.”
“You’re doing everything right.” I slide my hand up to his shoulder, rub comforting circles on his back. “Just be patient. He’ll come around.”
“I hope so,” he says. “It’s all I want. I love him, I truly do, and I hate seeing him so miserable.”
It’s so perfectly Peeta, to be worried not about his own bruised feelings like so many other people in this situation might be, but instead he’s worried about Max. I can’t help but be angry on his behalf, angry that he was denied an opportunity to be a father to Max for so long. I know he carries so much guilt about it too. Max could have - should have - had a loving, supportive parent all along.
But it’s not too late, I’m certain of that. These two need each other. I really believe they’re going to figure that out. And I’ll do anything I can to help.
We stand side-by-side in silence, each lost in thought as I rub his back, completely oblivious to the passage of time. Then the bell rings, warning me that recess is over and my room will soon be overrun by six year olds again. “Shoot,” he says. “I’d better run. I’m sorry I wasted your whole break.” He shoves the last of the supplies onto the shelf, and turns to leave, but I catch his hand.
“Hey, no, you didn’t waste my time. I, uh, I’m glad we can talk. I mean–” Ugh, I can talk to little kids for hours at a time, but I can’t articulate a single thought to this man. “I like talking with you, Peeta.”
He smiles, just a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I smile too. He squeezes my hand, but already we can hear the clomping of children filing back into the school. With a little wave, he slips out of the class before the kids return.
It’s only an hour later that I realize that in his hurry to get out before the kids came back, he left his messenger bag behind. I send him a text, offering to bring it to him in the morning, and he gratefully accepts. And okay, I admit it’s not just that I’m a super nice person. I also kind of like the idea of seeing him again, away from the classroom.
——
Mellark’s bakery is a charming old storefront on the corner of Victor’s and Main, an area I’ve never really frequented despite it being no more than ten minutes from my house. Even before I’m close enough to read the sign, I can smell the hot yeasty aroma of fresh bread, and a faint hint of cinnamon underneath. It’s mouthwatering. Huge old-fashioned glass windows glint in the morning sun, and the front door is propped open, beckoning me in.
The inside is just as nice, black and white checkerboard tiles and warm wood everywhere. Pristine glass cases filled with utterly delectable-looking goodies. A few tables are scattered by the large windows, the perfect place to sit with a coffee and a treat and watch the world go by. It’s a good thing I didn’t know this place existed before now, I might never have left.
Equally attractive is the trifecta of blond men in my midst. Two stand behind the counter, engrossed in low conversation. Peeta, looking even more more appealing than usual in a simple white tee that emphasizes his broad chest and muscled arms. I had no idea he was hiding that under the button down shirts he usually wears to the school. Beside him, a man who can only be his own father - same height, same build, same golden curls, though the elder Mellark’s are shot with silver and cropped a little more closely. Clearly the Mellark genes are strong. Either that, or they’re cloning themselves in the bakery kitchen.
The third Mellark sits at one of the tall tables, busily colouring. The morning sun filters through his hair, haloing him. If this was your only impression of Max Van Allen Mellark, you might think he was an angel. But his brows are drawn together in more than just concentration. Anger, annoyance, and frustration are all painted on his features.
Peeta looks up, catches me standing in the doorway and smiles gently. “Hey,” he says. “You found us.”
When Max hears his father’s voice, he too looks up, and the angry expression melts away. “Miss Everdeen!” he yells, clambering down from the high stool. “You came to visit!” He skips across the bakery and hugs me tight.
“I came to see you, and to bring back your daddy’s bag. He forgot it in our class yesterday.” Peeta has moved from behind the counter, smiling as he approaches us. Behind him, Max’s grandfather just looks stunned. Peeta’s mentioned before that Max hasn’t bonded well with very many people, but I don’t think I appreciated until now just how special the bond he and I have developed is.
“Thank you, Katniss,” he says softly, those stunning blue eyes warm and welcoming. I know he’s not just talking about the satchel. “Will you stay and have breakfast with us?”
I don’t have a chance to answer before Max is hopping up and down, yanking on my hand to guide me over to the table where he was sitting. “Yes, yes, stay, please!” he chirps. And I can’t help but laugh. His enthusiasm is adorable, and all too rare.
As I get settled, Peeta asks Max if he’d like to get something for me from the pastry case. Max looks surprised, wary but a little pleased too. It might be the first time I’ve seen him look at Peeta with anything other than contempt. “What would you like to eat, Miss Everdeen?” he asks. I can’t help but grin at his formality. He might not show it, but he’s clearly been listening to Peeta serve customers.
“What’s your favourite thing to eat here, Max?” I ask, and he shrugs, but I’m undeterred. “I’d like to try whatever you like best.” He nods, just once, and turns to run behind the counter.
“Get one for yourself too, Max,” Peeta calls as he walks to the fancy coffee machine, laughing quietly.
Peeta returns with two mugs of hot chocolate, and a cup of tea for himself, and Max carries two ceramic plates with all of the precision a six-year-old can manage, proudly setting one in front of me. “What’s this, Max?” I ask. It’s golden and flaky, covered in a thick layer of bubbly cheese.
“Cheese buns,” he says, climbing onto the stool beside me. “Hey, you like hot chocolate too?” He gestures to my mug. “It’s my favourite!” Peeta watches with amusement as Max nimbly slurps the melting whipped cream from his own mug.
Grinning, I pull a corner off the treat sitting in front of me. It smells fantastic. And as the rich, buttery pastry melts on my tongue I can’t suppress a groan. “This is fantastic,” I sigh. Why didn’t I know about this place sooner? “Did you make these?” I tease Max. He shakes his head solemnly.
“Would you like to learn how?” Peeta asks his son hesitantly. “It’s a very old recipe, my father taught me and your uncles when we were about your age. I’d love to teach you, too.” Max looks at him warily. But then he nods, tentatively but still, a nod. Peeta’s smile is brighter than the sunlight streaming through the windows, and so much warmer too.
“Look Miss Everdeen,” Max says shyly. “This is how I like to eat my cheese buns.” He tears off little pieces or the bread, dipping them in his hot chocolate before eating them. I do the same, to humour him, and it isn’t half bad.
I spend another half hour in the bakery in pleasant conversation. Peeta’s father wanders over in between customers, he’s just as kind and charming as his son. Max continues to act mostly indifferent to his father and grandfather. But I know what I saw. A little flash of hope.
——
“Miss Everdeen!” Max practically bursts through the classroom door, charging at me excitedly. That’s a good sign I think, especially for a Monday. “Look what I made you!” He’s clutching a white paper bag and I know what I’ll find inside.
The cheese bun is just perfect.
“You made that?” Leevy Richards is staring inquisitively over Max’s shoulder. He stiffens, but instead of lashing out at her like he typically would, he just shrugs. “Like by yourself?” Leevy can be a little pushy.
“My dad helped with the oven, but I did everything else.” There’s a small, proud smile on his face. Leevy grins too. “He’s going to teach me how to make cookies next.”
My heart feels like it’ll pound out of my chest. Max is interacting with one of his classmates in a non-confrontational manner. Maybe even friendly. And even more that that: Max referred to Peeta as his father, for the first time.
Prompt 25: Katniss and Peeta are both frequent pop-in guests at an out-of-the-way B&B. One weekend, it is surprisingly booked up and the manager asks if they can share a suite in an effort to be less of an inconvenience for such loyal customers and since they sort of know each other. (Submitted by @roseymama )
Rated E, Trigger warnings for smut, a few curse words and mentions of a dying family member.
———
The silver Civic slipped up the paved drive that sloped through the woods before bursting into the clearing where a white, two-storey colonial waited serenely, like a queen holding court.
The driveway twisted around a shade garden tucked into a copse of trees and Katniss veered into the parking area, pushing the grief that threatened to overwhelm her away long enough to shift the car into neutral, set the parking brake and turn the key. Closing her eyes, she let her head fall against the headrest and drew in a breath. Her belly filled with air and then she expelled it slowly, imagining the stresses of her day floating away. She did it again. And again, drawing the negative energy along her limbs and visualizing it drifting away on the breath. Some days it helped.
Today was not one of those days, not after the news Prim had delivered this afternoon.
Her eyelids fluttered open and the square corners of the heritage home came back into view; its perfect symmetry, its black shutters and red front door bidding her welcome. The sheltering walls of the Mockingjay Inn had become a second home to her these last months. She loved this old house, tucked away in the woods, invisible from the main road and advertised only by word of mouth. Her old school friend, Madge, had painstakingly renovated it after inheriting it from her grandmother a few years ago. It was a labour of love for Madge, who seemed to have planted her spring flowers since Katniss was here last week. She spotted the happy faces of pansies peeking out from around the hostas that lined the beds next to the house and red and white petunias spilled from the urns on the front steps.
When she stepped from the car, the heady rush of the crisp breeze set her heart racing and teased at the hem of her skirt. A fresh gust whipped the wayward wisps of raven hair that always escaped the confines of her braid. She breathed deeply again, filling her body with the brisk, clean air and whisking away the stench of slow decay and antiseptic attempting to permeate her bones. This time, her exhale carried a piece of her burden away.
Her sorrow eased, however briefly, Katniss popped open the trunk of her car and grabbed her black overnight bag. She’d go inside, get checked in, and then curl up in front of the Inn’s fireplace with a glass of wine. If she was lucky, Peeta would be there already and they could chat. It was a real stroke of luck that his business seemed to bring him to Panem, New York every week since she’d first met him here at the Inn. There were few things she enjoyed more than sitting beside Peeta as he sketched whatever came to mind and they talked about the days that had passed since they last saw each other. She loved putting aside the drama of her own life to listen to stories about the eccentric customers who frequented his gallery.
Her feet all but flew up the steps and she breezed through the door only to find Madge and Peeta engaged in a serious conversation near the antique dresser that Madge had placed in the foyer and from which she liked to conduct her business.
Peeta’s hand was fisted in the golden curls at the back of his head. He pulled his hair and then released it to scratch at the back of his neck. In the dresser’s mirror, Katniss could see that his face was twisted in consternation while Madge tried, a little desperately, to convince him of something.
Madge’s offered Katniss a bright smile as the door closed behind her. “Hello, Katniss. Welcome back!”
Peeta nodded in her direction, the expression in his usually bright blue eyes still troubled. “Katniss.”
“What’s going on?” Katniss dropped her bag on the Oriental rug arranged under the chandelier in the middle of the room.
Peeta grimaced and dropped his hand to the granite top of the dresser. “You’re going to love this one, Katniss.”
Madge shushed him. “Katniss, the Inn has just been given a remarkable opportunity. A team from a Capitol TV travel show is coming to do a story on the area and they want to feature the Mockingjay Inn as Panem’s best kept secret.”
Katniss’s chest surged with pride for her friend. “Well, it is,” she said firmly. “That’s wonderful, Madge! Such great exposure for you!”
Madge beamed, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “It is. I’m so thrilled. I just knew you’d understand.”
Peeta scoffed. “No, she doesn’t Madge. You haven’t told her when they’re arriving.”
A leery tingle of suspicion crept up Katniss’s spine. “When, Madge?”
“Tonight,” her friend enthused. “So, if you and Peeta would just agree, then everything will be just perfect.”
“Madge…” Peeta warned.
Madge caught her perfect pink bottom lip between her teeth. “Well, you see, Katniss,” she cleared her throat. “They will be staying tonight, to get the full experience. They require four rooms, and the Inn has-”
“Five,” Peeta interrupted impatiently. “The Inn has five rooms. Madge wants us to share a room.”
“No,” Madge corrected hastily. “The Inn has six bedrooms. The master suite has two bedrooms. It’s usually booked by families, but you and Peeta are such good friends, Katniss, that I’m sure it would work. I’ll cut your rate in half for tonight, if you’ll agree.”
Katniss had to admit that a cut on her room was rather appealing. Travelling up to Panem from the city each weekend was costing her a fortune. She could stay elsewhere, but the lonely, cookie-cutter rooms of the hotels in the downtown held no appeal at all. She could stay at her sister Prim’s house but that felt like a prison sentence, especially after Prim’s revelation today. The quiet of the Inn and her time with Peeta have been her oasis in the middle of this ordeal. She wasn’t sure she would get through the night if she wasn’t able to put her troubles aside for a little while and enjoy his company. Plus, she knew she would be safe with him in the suite.
“Okay,” she decided. “I’ll allow it.”
She almost laughed at their reactions. Madge’s face was the picture of relief. Peeta’s was filled with shock.
“Really?” they said in unison.
She shrugged. “Who am I to turn down a cheap night in a four-star bed and breakfast?”
“Peeta?” asked Madge. Katniss watched him clear his throat and nod.
“If Katniss is comfortable with it, then I’ll be fine,” he softly replied.
Madge was still clapping her hands in glee when Katniss turned to pick up her suitcase and started for the mahogany staircase. “Alright Madge, show us tonight’s accommodations.”
——
The room was not what she expected.
As they’d travelled up the broad steps in the heart of the house, Madge had nattered on about her master suite, then she’d opened the door to the room and whisked off to prepare the other rooms for her Capitol TV guests.
A queen-sized four-poster bed dressed in a russet orange duvet graced the main room of the suite and was heaped with a mound of plush and inviting pillows. In the corner, a couple of rich leather armchairs with embroidered footstools flanked a gas fireplace. Two doors stood firmly closed on each side of the bed. Behind one door was a tiny private bathroom with a marble stand up shower. Behind the other was tucked a double bed and a small nightstand. Madge had obviously renovated a walk-in closet and a dressing room to construct the suite. It was perfect for a family with young children.
Not so perfect for a couple of friends, Katniss thought, and scowled. “We’ve been bamboozled.”
Beside her, Peeta huffed in frustration. “I’m not sure how to be the gentleman here,” he frowned. “If I take the smaller bed, I compromise your privacy. If I take the bigger bed, I’ve consigned you to the smaller room.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “We could get rooms in town?”
She turned to observe Peeta watching her warily. His light blue button-down was hanging over a pair of well-worn jeans, its sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. His leather overnight bag still hung from his shoulder. Was he expecting her to have a fit over their accommodations? Not likely. It was still better than her alternatives. At least he wasn’t suggesting they split up. She was a little afraid to be alone with her thoughts. They’d pull her under and she’d never find her way out. Dropping her bag on the butler’s bench poised at the foot of the bed, Katniss shook her head. “We’re here now. We’ll just have to make the best of it. We can flip a coin for the bed later.” She lowered herself to the bench. “How was your week?”
The corner of his mouth twitched and he closed the space between them, dropping his bag on the hardwood floor as he perched on the edge of the bed. “Not bad. Ms. Trinket finally bought that piece she’s been eying.”
“That was the modern one with all the bright colours, right?”
Peeta nodded. Effie Trinket, a retired Broadway actress who Katniss figured had more money than brains, was one of Peeta’s customers. “That’s the one. Then I sold her a sculpture of a man made out of recycled cans. His legs once held creamed corn, I swear.”
Katniss couldn’t help it, she laughed. “She lurves you, Peeta. She’d take anything you’re selling. You’ll be husband number 6, I just know it. “
Peeta shuddered. “I’m pretty sure she made more money collecting on divorce settlements than she ever made on the stage. Her latest husband, Mitch, I think his name is, answered the door when I made the delivery this week. He was as drunk as a skunk.”
Katniss’s eyes rounded. “You’re doing the deliveries now?”
“Only if the client pays for a professional installation. Which Effie always does.”
She shook her head in resignation. “Effie, huh? Well, you’ll have to be sure to give me her address before you leave. If you don’t show up here next Saturday, I’ll send the police to check her basement. She’ll have you tied to a post, trying to make you her love slave.”
Peeta gagged and threw himself back against the bed, clapping his hand over his face “You’re going to give me nightmares.”
Katniss was still laughing when he raised his hand and turned his head to look at her; his face so close to hers that she could count each one of his long, golden eyelashes.
“Don’t worry, Katniss. I’ll be here next week. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,“ he whispered, brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
Katniss wondered if they’d ever been this close before. She’d never noticed the flecks of grey in the blue pools of his eyes or the tiny freckles that sprayed across his nose. His lips were smooth and softly parted.
A swift rap on the door interrupted her train of thought. “I opened you guys a bottle of merlot in the drawing room,” Madge called out from the other side before carrying on down the hall.
Peeta’s hands slapped against his knees as he sat up. “A drink before dinner sounds great.” He stood, and offered his hand to Katniss. “Shall we?”
She took it and Peeta’s long fingers wrapped securely around hers as she followed him to the door. She missed their steadiness when he let go to allow her passage over the threshold ahead of him, but then they ghosted along the small of her back as he guided her through. The warmth of his touch lingered all the way down the stairs and into the drawing room.
After Peeta poured them each a glass of wine, they settled into their usual spots on the couch in front of the fireplace and Peeta began a story about his client, Mr. Craine, his strange beard and his taste for phallic imagery in modern art.
“Honestly, Katniss, I showed him a cubist portrait the other day. I told him the subject’s nose, which was located where the ear should be, appeared to have been subtly but deliberately widened at the base, and he bought it on the spot.”
Katniss looked pensive. “I wonder if you could sell him a still life bowl of fruit.”
“If it’s got bananas in it, consider it sold.”
They were still snickering when they heard the entrance door burst open and the house was filled with chatter.
“Lovely, just lovely,” boomed a pompous voice. “It’s so perfectly quaint and cozy. What do you want to bet her grandmother’s needlepoint hangs over the fireplace?”
A high-pitched female voice tittered and Katniss peered up at the mantle. She thought the intricate needlepoint was probably done by Madge’s great grandmother, but wasn’t sure what was so hilarious about valuing where you came from.
Another female voice, this one lower and more soothing murmured to the group.
“I don’t know, Cressida. Is there a bell on that old dresser, there?” the male voice replied. “Ring it, why don’t you?”
“No need, no need.” They could hear Madge bustle in and begin tending to their varying needs. Yes, the heat had been turned down in Mr. Heavensbee’s room. There were no feathers on Ms. Cardew’s bed. Yes, the rooms were large enough to store the equipment. Yes, Madge could provide a vegetarian meal for dinner. No, vegan was not an option. Yes, the list of Cressida’s food allergies had arrived by email. Yes, she had free wifi. Yes, there were private bathrooms in each guest suite. No her towels were cotton, not bamboo.
Peeta rolled his eyes and Katniss laughed again.
“You’re sure you don’t want to stay downtown?”
She imagined herself dissolving into tears in a sterile hotel room. “I’m positive.” Peeta smiled at her and raised his glass to sip his wine. “There’s no way we could drink wine and talk about penis paintings in a hotel lobby.”
Peeta was still choking when the rotund body that belonged to the booming voice in the entryway appeared in the doorway to the room.
“Brilliant! Other guests.” His beefy hands collided in a swift clap and then he rubbed them together. “Plutarch Heavensbee. I’m the producer of Byways and Getaways for Capitol TV. We’re doing a segment on the town and the inn. But, don’t you worry. Your visit will not be disturbed.”
Peeta, now recovered, offered him an easy smile and stood, offering his hand. “Peeta Mellark, “ he said and gestured to Katniss. “My friend, Katniss Everdeen.”
“A pleasure to meet you, “ Plutarch enthused. Katniss wished she could say the same. He had invaded her favourite space and now he was interrupting her Peeta time. “What brings you to the inn?”
“Just up for the weekend, “ he replied, and Katniss thought it odd that he didn’t mention he had business in the area.
“Exactly the demographic we are trying to reach with our show. I knew we were right about this place. Where do you hail from?”
“I’m the curator of PMG in the city. Katniss lives there too. She’s an environmental engineer.“
Katniss reached out her hand to shake Plutarch’s and it felt like she’d wrapped her fingers around a dead fish. Her father used to say that a man’s handshake told you all you needed to know about him. “It’s a pleasure, Katniss. Well, what do you think? Isn’t this the perfect spot for a romantic getaway?”
“I suppose,” Katniss conceded, though she found it hard to imagine staying here without tragedy looming over her head. “I’m from Panem, actually, so I’m just here to see my family.”
“No reason why the two of you can’t mix family obligations with a little romance, especially in a setting like this one,” said Plutarch with a laugh before turning to Peeta.
As Plutarch and Peeta continued with their social niceties – it turned out Plutarch had heard of Peeta’s gallery and knew Effie – Katniss pondered why her path had never crossed Peeta’s until they had met here. They both lived in the same city. They were about the same age. But it was a huge city, and she wasn’t much for the nightlife, so maybe it wasn’t such a surprise after all. But even now that they’d met, they didn’t see each other between visits to the Inn.l They exchanged the odd text, but they never met for lunch or grabbed a quick drink after work. She’d never questioned it before, but now she wondered why that was, and whether that would change if she were no longer coming to the Inn each weekend. What if it didn’t? Would another female guest take her place? The idea clawed at her.
“Dinner is served,” called Madge from the doorway.
As they passed under the chandelier in the foyer to the dining room across the hall, Peeta tucked Katniss’s hand under his arm. She was surprised to discover his bicep was rock hard beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. She chanced a glance up at him and found his eyes full of concern.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, of course not.”
The thumb of his free hand stroked over her knuckles. “I wasn’t sure. You seemed so distant in the other room.”
“It’s not you, Peeta. I’ve just… Got a lot on my mind.” He nodded in understanding, but did not release her hand. That was fine with Katniss. His gentle strength was exactly what she needed.
In the dining room, the lights had been dimmed and the large table where they usually supped with Madge was already filled with the television crew. Katniss spotted Plutarch settling in beside a dark-haired woman whose face powder gave the apples of her cheeks a silver glow. Across the table from him was a man with a red-tinged beard and another willowy woman whose hair was shaved on one side of her head.
Madge pointed them to a table for two she’d set up near the windows. “I thought you two might enjoy some privacy.” Peeta gave her a grateful smile and he led the way to the more intimate setting, where the flickering of the candle was reflected in the glasses between their places and glimmered in the polished silver that lay on the tablecloth. When Katniss reached her chair, Peeta quickly pulled it out for her and slid her into place. Madge arrived tableside and poured another rich red, wine into fresh glasses.
“This meal has to be perfect,” she whispered to them, her back to the camera crew.
“It will be, Madge,” Katniss soothed. “All your meals are perfect. They’ll love it.”
“Let’s hope so,” her friend sighed, and outlined the evening’s dining choices: a braised lamb shank in a red wine sauce and served with rosemary garlic mashed potatoes or eggplant parmesan with arugula salad.
Peeta grinned at Katniss. “I know what you’re going to choose.”
“The lamb,” they said in unison.
“For you as well, Peeta?” Madge asked. He nodded and their hostess pasted a smile on her lips. “Okay then, wish me luck.” She turned back to the crowd at the table to take their orders.
“I guess you know what a carnivore I am by now,” Katniss teased after Madge left.
“You told me a few months ago that lamb is your favourite.”
“I did?”
“Sure, one night Madge served a gorgeous Beef Wellington and you said that you enjoyed it but that lamb was your favourite.”
Katniss remembered that night – the flakey crust wrapped over the succulent steak, the rich aroma of the wine. Madge had dimmed the chandelier over the dining room table and they’d talked for hours. Peeta had told them all about the hours he’d spent on a beach in the south of Spain, painting the sunset over the Mediterranean Sea, frantically mixing his paints to achieve exactly the right shade of orange. His eyes were as blue as the water that night and Katniss has never looked a a sunset the same way since.
“I can’t believe you retained a little detail like that,” she said.
Madge arrived with their meals and the savoury aroma curled tantalizingly toward her.
Peeta tugged his napkin from under his cutlery and laid it in his lap. “I remember everything about you, Katniss.” He cleared his throat and looked back up at her. “So, how were things today?”
She fiddled with the stem of her wine goblet before lifting it to take a healthy swallow. “Rough, as usual.” Rougher than usual, really, but she’d promised herself she wouldn’t think about that yet. “Dad just lies there, fading to nothing. Prim takes Mom with her every day when she goes to work at the hospital. She drops Mom off in his room, works a 12-hour shift, then picks her up in his room when it’s time to go home. Mom doesn’t leave his side, except to go to the bathroom.”
“She’s certainly devoted.”
“She is, but it’s more than that, Peeta. It’s like she can’t function without him. Dad’s car accident was four months ago, and she’s barely said a word since it happened. When she’s not at the hospital, she’s sleeping.”
Katniss adored her father and she’d missed him every day since he’d lost control of his truck on that icy road last winter. But it was her mother’s desertion that hurt the most. Her father might have been alone in his vehicle, but she and her sister had lost both of their parents that night.
And since Katniss lived and worked in Capitol City, poor Prim was bearing the day-to-day stress of caring for both of their parents. It was Prim who’d called Katniss to say the doctors had decided their mother lacked the competency to make decisions about their father’s care. Prim had closed up their parent’s house and moved Mom into her place. Prim made sure Mom got out of bed, ate, washed herself and went back to bed. Prim dealt with the myriad of decisions that had to be made for both of their parents every day. All Katniss had to do was show up on Saturday morning, take their mother to the hospital and spend the day watching their father waste away while a respirator and a feeding tube kept his body alive and her mother desperately clung to the hope he’d wake up. When the sun began to set, she kissed her father’s cheek, took Mom back to Prim’s house and put her to bed.
Every second of every minute that she sat in that ass-numbing visitor’s chair beside her father’s bed, Katniss wished she could be somewhere - anywhere - else; to run to her car, drive back to the city and never return. Only the bone-crushing guilt that her baby sister was dealing with this fiasco on her own had her packing her car every Saturday morning for the 60-mile drive north to Panem.
Well, that, and the man sitting on the other side of the table, whose smile lit up every room in her heart. He smiled at her sympathetically.
“I’d like to say I understand what you’re going through, Katniss, but my father’s death was so sudden, it can’t compare. Just know that I haven’t forgotten what that felt like. I understand what it means to lose someone so important to you.” His hand covered hers, and then his thumb stroked over her knuckles. “I’m here for you, Katniss, whatever you need. I hope you know that.”
His kindness made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. What did she ever do to deserve a friend like him? “Thank you, I-”
“Look at that!” Plutarch’s voice boomed from the other table. “Pollux go get your camera. Do you see it Cressida? They’re perfect!”
Katniss turned her head towards the other table where Plutarch was grinning like someone who’d found the prize at the bottom of the cereal box. The woman across from him was considering them carefully, the long, platinum locks on the unshaved part of her head falling over her left shoulder. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, you’re right. They’re perfect. And the setting is just right.”
“Well, you two. How about it?” Plutarch rose from the table and loomed over them. “Want to be on our show?”
Peeta was the first to recover. “We’re not-, I mean…”
“Professional actors. I know,” Plutarch said. “That’s what makes you so right for this. Your chemistry is palpable. It was slapping me in the face, even all the way over there.”
It was? Her attempts to process that revelation were interrupted by the thumps and rattles of the cameraman, Pollux, who came back into the room, a television camera hoisted on his shoulder.
She was already working up an impressive no speech when Cressida spoke up. “You don’t have to of course,” she demurred from the other table, “But don’t you want to help your friend? Footage of an actual couple enjoying the inn is so much more effective than shots of charming but empty rooms.”
One look at Madge’s pleading face and Katniss’s protests crumbled. Three minutes on camera wasn’t going to kill her. When she peeked over at Peeta, he was wavering too. But she knew he wouldn’t agree, not without her.
“Alright, fine,” she acquiesced. Peeta gave a swift nod and Plutarch threw his hands up in joy. He might as well have won the lottery. Before long, Cressida – who apparently was the show’s director – had Pollux in position for a long shot.
“I want you to start wide,” she instructed Pollux, “And bring it in slowly on the two of them while they continue their dinner. Pollux nodded and got into position. She turned to Peeta, “And I want you to go back to looking at her as though she’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. And you,” she laid a hand on Katniss’s shoulder that Katniss had to force herself not to shrug off, “You just keep looking up at him like he hung the moon.”
It was impossibly awkward, trying to eat while the camera was rolling. She was conscious of every chew of the lamb, every bite of her potatoes. They tasted like ash in her mouth because she couldn’t relax. Meanwhile Cressida’s words kept rolling through her head. Since when did Peeta look at her like she was beautiful? How ridiculous. Just the implication that he had feelings for her had even turned the tips of his ears pink. But now, that the camera was rolling he was putting on a masterful performance, smiling sweetly at her in the candlelight.
Three minutes turned out to be twenty. Each time Pollux finished the shot, Cressida reviewed it, picked it apart and had him shoot it again. Once Cressida was happy with the long shot, she had Pollux pan from one of them to the other. Then Peeta gazing at her. Then her doing her best not to scowl at him. She also had him shoot their joined hands before pulling out to their dinner.
She heaved a sigh of relief when Pollux finally turned off the camera, but by then her meal was cold. Madge collected their plates with a smile, and whispered that she was so grateful for their help that she was comping their room for the night.
At least they didn’t bother her while she was enjoying her tiramisu. Plutarch’s plan that Peeta feed her a bite from his fork, was thwarted by Madge who suggested they all have a break and some dessert.
Katniss had never been so relieved to be finished with a meal. She was already making her escape to the staircase when Plutarch started wheedling for just a “few more shots” in the drawing room. Before long, she found herself nestled hip-to-hip with Peeta in front of a roaring fire, Katniss tucked beneath his arm and their long-stemmed wine glasses clutched in their fingertips while the camera rolled.
“Cut!” At Cressida’s call, Pollux put the camera down and rolled his shoulders. Cressida was oblivious to his discomfort. “Alright, Katniss,” she coached. “This time when Pollux starts recording, I want you both to be staring into the fire. Then on the count of five I want you to lay your head on Peeta’s chest. Got it?”
She bit her lip. It was one thing to hold hands over dinner or sit in front of the fire. This next shot felt terribly romantic and it seemed wrong to continue to pretend like this. Peeta picked up on her uncertainty and was arguing that they were tired when she realized she might never again have a chance at a moment like this with Peeta. Even if Prim changed her mind about tomorrow and she came back the following weekend, she had no idea whether Peeta felt anything for her but friendship. Suddenly, she found her tongue.
“It’s fine, Peeta. Don’t worry about me.” His blue eyes were full of concern when they peered down at her.
“You sure?”
She nodded, wondering if it were possible to drown in someone’s gaze. “Yeah.” The corner of his mouth quirked in a slight smile and she imagined pressing her lips to the spot.
Plutarch made a pleased noise. “Oh that’s perfect. That’s exactly what we want, Isn’t it Cressida?”
“We’ll do it all in one take,” the director agreed. “Fulvia, take Peeta’s glass, please.”
“I’m the host, not a gofer,” the other woman huffed as she snatched Peeta’s glass away.
“You’re not a coat rack either, yet you insist on standing there and doing nothing,” Cressida snapped.
Katniss decided she rather liked Cressida, who turned back to her, her irritation buried under her professional veneer. “As I said, you two, we’ll do one last take and then we’ll set you free. Katniss, I want you to do exactly as I said. Gaze at the fire, count to five, lay your head on his chest. Then Peeta, with your free hand, reach up to stroke her cheek. And if you two stare at each other with the same intensity that you just had, the Mockingjay Inn will be full for the next 10 years.”
“Can we please just do this?” Peeta sounded pained.
“Rolling,” Cressida called. The room was silent except for the crackle of the fire. Katniss watched it dance in the hearth before relaxing against Peeta and laying her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt. She could hear his heart racing beneath her ear. She closed her eyes, fixing the moment in her mind forever. The spice of his cologne, the natural musk of his skin. The firmness of his chest and the warmth of his body. Even if it wasn’t real, she wanted to be able to recall this memory whenever her thoughts strayed to him. When his fingers grazed her cheek, Katniss opened her eyes and found his to be staring back at her, filled with fondness and, dare she say, longing?
“Cut!” Cressida said and Peeta leapt to his feet, reaching out to tug Katniss off the floor.
“Well, it’s been fun, folks, but Katniss and I are calling it a night,” he said, never letting go of her hand. Cheerfully waving good night, but allowing no further discussion, he ushered her from the room. His jaw was tense, she noted, and a current was passing between them that was almost palpable in the air. When he glanced toward her, she could see something brewing in his expression that she’d never noticed before.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Peeta opened the door to their room and allowed her to pass through before him. It snicked closed and they were left in the cozy space where it seemed Madge had snuck in to light the fireplace and turn down their beds. Lamps glowed on the end tables on each side the big four-poster.
“Katniss,” Peeta said, in a voice just barely above a whisper. Her eyes flew to where he stood by the door, watching her. She was reminded briefly of a stormy sea and then she found herself surrounded by him, wrapped snugly in his arms as his lips came crashing down upon hers. At once, they gave and demanded. Took and soothed. He bit her lip, begged forgiveness with a swipe of his tongue and then parted her bruised lips to slip inside. Here, her body sang as her tongue slid against his. Here is what you’ve been looking for. What you’ve been missing. The one you need.
When they were both gasping for air, he pulled back, framing her face with his hands, feathering kisses across her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead before finally lowering his brow to hers. She locked her hands around his wrists.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve been waiting so long to tell you how I feel. You’ve been dealing with so much. You don’t need demands from me too, but the way you were looking at me down there, Katniss…. I just- I couldn’t hold back anymore. You mean so much to me and if you don’t want this, I’ll try to under-”
She had to shut him up. Had to. So she rose up on her toes and kissed him with all that she’d been holding inside for him; weaving her fingers into his hair as she’d ached to do, revelling in the sharp scrape of his stubble, committing the taste of his lips to her memory. How could they both have been feeling this way and not known the attraction was mutual?
“It’s not just you,” she assured him when they broke apart again. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m not very good with words, especially when it’s important.”
A groan sounded low in his throat and his hands clutched at her hips, pulling her close. Heat flashed between them and she stroked the iron of his biceps and wrapped her arms around his middle before clutching the back of his shirt in her fists. Her own shirt rose slightly and his thumb stroked the bare skin that appeared just above the waistline of her jeans. Goosebumps prickled on her flesh and the sharp edge of need sliced through her again. A soft mewl escaped her lips and his hands slipped from her hips to stroke the soft curve of her bottom. His lips roamed her jaw then moved to suckle the sensitive spot on her neck just below her ear.
It felt indescribably good, like she’d found a part of herself that she hadn’t known was missing. She craved him, each touch drawing her ever deeper under his spell. Her panties were soaked and her mind was whirling. She wanted him over her, inside her, wrapped in the knot of her legs while he took her flying.
Was it wrong to give into this now? When they’d only just confessed their feelings? When she knew tomorrow she’d be kissing her father good-bye?
Peeta lifted his head to stare down at her. His lips were swollen from her kisses; his blonde locks tousled. His eyes burned with desire, but his gentleness and innate decency remained. Her hands slid into his hair, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck.
He leaned down to nuzzle her nose. “Everything alright?”
“Prim told the doctors they could unplug our dad tomorrow.”
With a curse, Peeta released her and then led her over to the bed. They toed off their shoes and curled up under the covers where he drew her into his arms. She lay there quietly, her body still thrumming with need, but her mind at peace.
”Katniss, I’m so sorry. I know you were hoping he’d get better.”
“I was for awhile,” she admitted on a shaky breath, “But now, I just want him to be able to hold on to his dignity. He would hate this, Peeta. More than anything. Sometimes I think he won’t wake up because he’d never want to face this.”
He pressed a kiss to her brow. “I’m sorry. I should never have started all that before. If I’d known what you were going through-”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “Stop. Please don’t be sorry for that. I can’t handle it if you say sorry for wanting me.”
He snorted and she wondered if he’d picked up that habit from her. “Can’t be sorry for that,” he answered. “Not when it came to me as naturally as breathing.”
She gave her head a brief shake and raised up on her elbow. “What?”
“You have no idea, the effect you have on me.” At her dismissive noise, he flipped her over, settling his body on hers and pinning her wrists above her head. “It’s true,” he insisted. “I walked into the drawing room that first night we met. You were curled up on the couch, staring into the fire, your braid falling over your shoulder. You turned to look at me and my mind just blanked. And then I knew.”
She felt like she should scoff and push him away, but another part – the part that remembered their first meeting like a favourite movie – hungered to hear the rest. “Knew what?” she croaked.
“That you were perfect for me. I just needed time to convince you that I was perfect for you too.”
No convincing had been necessary. Not really. Not when she spent Monday to Friday thinking about when she would see him again. “I guess you’re lucky that work kept bringing you up here, then.”
He chuckled, pushing her hands higher over her head, his face so close she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheeks. “Is that what you think? That I’ve been coming up here week after week, for work? Do you really think there are that many art connoisseurs in this little town?”
“Well, why else would you-”
Peeta rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Katniss.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Why do you think?”
Oh. “But you never called, hardly ever texted me during the week. How was I to know if you never gave me a sign?”
He blushed a little. “There were plenty of signs. I guess I was waiting for one from you.”
She spread her legs until he was nestled between her thighs. Locking her feet under his knees, she brought her lips to his. “How’s that for a sign?”
“I’ll take it,” he rasped, locking his fingers with hers. She took his bottom lip between her own and clung, nipping lightly. He let go of her hands to frame her face with his own and buried his fingers in her raven tresses. Free to wander, hers fell to his shoulders, admiring their breadth before slipping between the two of them to loosen the buttons of his shirt. Dissatisfied with the amount of skin she could reach, Katniss tugged impatiently at the hem of his shirt.
“Off,” she muttered as she laved her way up his neck to take his earlobe in her teeth. “Now,” she whispered in his ear.
“Bossy,” he complained from inside the shirt as he rose on his haunches to pull it over his head, too eager to be free of it to finish with the buttons. He tossed it aside and at last she could glory in his sculpted chest, his pectoral muscles dusted with blonde hair that narrowed into a trail that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans. She scratched her nails along his chest until they reached the button of his jeans. When she flipped it open, and reached for his fly, Peeta’s hand covered hers.
“You first,” he insisted. “I need to see you.” he swallowed. “Take your shirt off, Katniss.”
The heat of her blush raced up her neck until even her ears burned. “I’m nothing special,” she protested. “Let me touch you.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been having this dream about you. Please.” She huffed. Her fingers wrapped around the hem off her sweater so that she could whip it off, when he stilled her hand again.
“Slowly.”
Obediently, she slowed her hand. Her grey eyes locked on his face, watching his expression as she exposed the flat of her belly, the olive skin coming into view inch by inch. His eyes were dark, like bottomless pools. His tongue flicked out across his bottom lip, still swollen from her attentions. The sweater climbed over her rib cage and up her breasts before finally slipping over her head and falling into a heap on the floor.
She lay before him, her slight breasts still encased in the white cotton bra she’d donned that morning. His eyes closed and he exhaled softly, then opened them and smiled. “You are so beautiful.”
Her heart flipped over in her chest and she knew it was lost to him, that her feelings shone from every pore. He flicked open her jeans, lowered the zipper and lowered his lips to the soft flesh just above the hem of her panties. His mouth slid higher and her core burned as he laved a trail along her belly button, dipping in briefly before travelling up her sternum to the valley between her breasts. His lips caressed one soft mound and then the other. Her fingers wove themselves back into his hair, clutching him to her, and he moaned softly when she gave it a little tug to bring his mouth back to hers. He tasted of wine and she drank him in, revelling in the pleasure of his skin against hers. Her hips rose from the bed, sending a spike of heat through her as her most sensitive place ground against his erection. She moaned and arched her back as she moved against him again.
Peeta’s hand slipped beneath her to remove her bra, unclasping it, and then sliding it from her shoulders to toss it to the floor. He closed his hand over one before drawing the soft brown tip of the other into his mouth, the tension continuing to build ever higher between her legs. His name fell from her lips and he raised his head to give her a naughty grin and then lowered his mouth to her opposite breast. With his other hand, he rolled the nipple he’d already teased into a taut peak between his fingers.
Her hands ran down his back and slipped beneath his shorts, admiring the shape of his ass before driving him even harder against the apex of her thighs.
They grunted in unison, and Peeta raised his head, his eyes dancing as they laughed. He pecked her lips and then slid off of her. They lay side by side, their arms draped loosely over each other’s sides. The next smile he offered her was sheepish.
“I didn’t exactly come prepared for this,” he admitted, “If you want to take this farther, that is.”
Katniss bit her lip as she considered the contents of her bag. “Me either.” She considered a moment. “We’ll just have to be creative,” she decided and sat up, smiling to herself when she noticed his eyes following her breasts.
She climbed from the bed and shimmied out of her jeans. “C’mon Mellark, match me?”
By the time she climbed back up on the bed, Peeta’s jeans were hitting the floor, his boxer briefs not far behind them. Still on all fours, her eyes roamed his body, the broad chest, the tight abs, the happy trail pointing the way to a long, hard cock. She licked her lips, thinking about what she had in mind and it twitched slightly. Amused, her eyes flew back to Peeta’s face. He shrugged. “It’s just saying hello. Come closer, please. I want to touch you.”
She crawled to him, enjoying the way his eyes followed the sway of her hips, then rose up on her knees before him. His hand slid up her inner thigh, trailing up until he brushed against her lower lips before sliding down again to her knee. He rose up on his elbow, placing a kiss against her hip.
“So lovely,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m going to paint you, someday, if you let me.” His lips travelled just above the dark triangle between her legs while his fingers crept up her thigh again. “Your hair unbound, falling down your back in the sunshine. Your skin practically glows, Katniss. I can make all kinds of colours in my paint box, but I could spend all day trying to get your skin just right.” This time, his fingers caressed her slit slowly, drawing her breath from her in sharp pants, before delving deeper in search of the swollen bud seeking his attention. Her head fell back and a high pitched moan fell from her lips when he began to stroke it.
“Peeta,” she gasped, riding his hand.
“Fuck, Katniss. You’re so wet.”
Her hands slid slowly up her body, cupping her breasts and then rolling her nipples between her fingers. The pleasure shot straight to her clit and she groaned again.
“Can I taste you,” he asked, and she nodded.
“But I want to touch you too. Lie back.” She turned in the bed, straddling Peeta’s body so that his cock was perfectly positioned for her mouth. She heard him curse again, then felt him lower her into position over his face. He licked her slowly, sending another jolt of pleasure through her body. Pleasure she needed to share.
Her tongue stroked down his cock, from the tip all the way to the root near his balls. The strangled groan that fell from his lips vibrated through her. She palmed his balls in one hand and then slowly began to stroke him with the other.
Peeta’s ministrations grew more passionate. He sucked her clit into his mouth, working it furiously with his tongue.
Katniss licked her lips, then took him in, sliding her tongue around the head and then deep into her mouth. Another groan sounded from behind her and she took him deeper, moving her hand in concert with her mouth. His hips rose and fell, even as he pulled her ever deeper against his face, his sounds of pleasure causing hers to spiral ever higher.
She drew back, licking the head of his penis before plunging down upon him again. His mouth worked her furiously, whimpers of pleasure bursting from her, when suddenly she felt her orgasm overtake her. She bucked against his face as he held her in place, drinking her up. She sucked him desperately, opening her throat and with one last groan, he erupted, and she swallowed each drop as it slid down.
They lay silently for a few minutes, while their hearts raced, Peeta kissing her thigh periodically. When she could avoid it no longer, she climbed off him. When she turned around, she could tell he was as stunned as she.
“I guess I should go to bed,” he said softly.
She lay her hand on his chest. “No, stay with me.”
He smiled at her and held out his arms. She thought he whispered something into her hair as she snuggled down beside him.
Peeta sat up to pull the covers back over them. They each flicked off a light and before long she was once again wrapped up in his arms. They lay quietly in the dark as she listened to the comforting thud of his heartbeat just below her ear. She was just drifting off to sleep when she heard his voice again.
“I’d like to go with you tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
She desperately wanted to say yes, which made her think she should probably refuse. “It will be awful, Peeta. I don’t want to put you through that.”
“Tomorrow, your mother will be there for your father, and your sister will be there for both of them. You’ll be taking care of Prim. Someone should be there to comfort you, Katniss. And that should be your boyfriend.”
Her lips twitched upwards in the dark. “Is that what you are? My boyfriend?”
“If you’ll allow it.”
There was a brief silence before she answered. “I’ll allow it.”
