Peeta Mellark (
fuelforthefire) wrote2014-07-22 12:56 pm
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the world recedes
It's quiet out here usually, at this time of the afternoon. There's a field through the trees to the west where there are cows, and sometimes I can hear them. When it's the school year, there's a bus that rumbles down the road at the end of the drive that leads up to my house, taking the few children who live out this far to their homes. But it's summer, and all I hear is a few birds in the trees.
Just the birds and Claudia. I hear her as the door to my little house closes behind me. I'd gone out to paint, an hour or two out by the side of the house. I keep trying to catch the sun as it filters through the trees at this hour, but it's nothing I could keep my mind on. I heard her laugh at something, and I find that I need to know what. Not because I'm jealous or worried, but because I'm curious. The past few days have been relaxing for us both, and it seems that she's forgetting the things that she's lost so recently and letting herself be happy again.
That makes me happier than I can even explain. She makes me happier than I can explain, and all I can think is that we should have done this earlier. Gotten away and spent some time together. But then, it might not have been right. It might not have worked. I've learned that you can't force things, no matter how hard you might want them to work for you.
I set the easel and box by the door and go up behind her, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss her cheek. "What are you laughing at?"
Just the birds and Claudia. I hear her as the door to my little house closes behind me. I'd gone out to paint, an hour or two out by the side of the house. I keep trying to catch the sun as it filters through the trees at this hour, but it's nothing I could keep my mind on. I heard her laugh at something, and I find that I need to know what. Not because I'm jealous or worried, but because I'm curious. The past few days have been relaxing for us both, and it seems that she's forgetting the things that she's lost so recently and letting herself be happy again.
That makes me happier than I can even explain. She makes me happier than I can explain, and all I can think is that we should have done this earlier. Gotten away and spent some time together. But then, it might not have been right. It might not have worked. I've learned that you can't force things, no matter how hard you might want them to work for you.
I set the easel and box by the door and go up behind her, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss her cheek. "What are you laughing at?"
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Dinner is easy, really. Bread, some sliced meat and cheese, a few vegetables and a dip I like that’s made with chickpeas. It’s easy enough to set up outside, a blanket and some cushions stolen from the corner of the spare room. I’ve gone in to grab the wine and glasses when I hear her singing softly. They’re never songs I know, but this one is catchy. “I like it. Did you write it?”
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"Nope. Not even close. It's something my sister used to sing." I finish the chord and set the guitar aside again, feeling the pit in my stomach churn. I remember it so clearly, sitting on Claire's bed while she strummed. Man, I hate this crap, just... all of it, the entire situation. But Peeta doesn't need to be burdened with all of this on top of my Steve issues. I'm sure he wouldn't mind, which makes him the best boyfriend ever, but he doesn't need it. I'm sure he's got family and people back home he misses, too.
I get up and take the wine so he's not juggling it and the glasses, "This everything?"
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"I like it." I nod when she takes the wine, wondering when this really happened, the two of us. Whenever it was, whenever we crossed that line from friends to something more, I'm happy it has.
"It's nothing much," I admit when I show her the blanket with plates and food near where the trees start in earnest. It was a warm day and that's carried over as its waned. Soon we'll have to head back to the commitments we have in the outside world so it's nice to pretend for another night or two.
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"Awwww, it's perfect." I'm genuinely taken by the adorableness of it. It's like the cliche date picnic and holy crap, I'm on the date. Who'd a thunk it? It's like, the perfect end to this day, if it is the end of the day, or whatever it is. I don't know, I'm still a little jittery and quivery from earlier and not really sure what we're doing or where we're going but not really caring. Is that a thing? I'm making it a thing, my thing, at least for now.
So I give him a kiss on the cheek before I plop my butt down on the blanket and kick off my shoes.
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I settle beside her but not as easily as she does. There are times when my leg is almost unnoticeable, but getting down low always feels awkward. I decide to pour the wine, hopefully enough of a distraction, too content to really be bothered by anything. Content? Excited, more than content.Even if nothing else comes of today than our conversation it feels like something has changed. Something good. “Do you want to toast?”
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"Your wine, your toast." That takes care of that nicely. Total cop-out, I know, but what's a girl to do?
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"To us." It feels kind of weird to toast to that, but I like it. It's celebratory and I've got enough ego to know that we deserve it. We deserve the little bits of happy we have here. I deserve it, even if I really really super wish I could share it with my friends. I know they'd all love Peeta.
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It’s hard to accept happiness sometimes. I think that there’s a part of me that thinks I don’t deserve it after everything that’s happened and I’ve done. But here we are, and being around her always feels like it’s the right place. Our glasses touch and I take a sip, the wine actually nicer than I expected.