the world recedes

[fuelforthefire]

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?"

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[fuelforthefire]

Maybe it is lame, but it's also a relief to hear her say. I laugh, a rush of expelled breath I hadn't realised I was holding. Hopefully she doesn't think I'm laughing at her, because I'm not; or rather I'm laughing at us.

"I don't think I could have made that any more awkward if I tried," I say, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against hers for just a moment. "Unless I put on that tinfoil hat I made earlier..."

[warehousenextgen]

"We are the kind and queen of awkwardville." I give him a kiss, smiling, relieved that we're on the same page and a little excited, a little scared, a little everything, but probably a lot in love. Yeah, I'm thinking it, even if I'm not saying it.

"But if you put on a tinfoil hat, I'm walking out that door right now." I give him a poke in the ribs before I kiss him again, just silly and giddy and enjoying the moment for what it is.

[fuelforthefire]

"But I made you one too," I insist, carrying on with the silliness at least for the moment. Grabbing her fingers, I hold her hand between us, against our chests. I wonder if she can feel that my heart is still racing. "But if we're descending to tickling, you should watch out. I have excellent defenses."

[warehousenextgen]

"Now that is a fashion statement I just won't get behind. Nope, sorry. Not for all the tea in China." I nibble at Peeta's jaw a little, pressing my palm into his chest and feeling the thumping underneath. I'm warm and comfortable and happy and I don't even recognize that part of me. I haven't really felt it since I arrived in Darrow.

Taking a chance, I turn his hand and press it against my chest so he can know I'm just as... everything as he is right now. "And honestly, I'm feeling a little defenseless right now."

[fuelforthefire]

Another time and I would have asked about Chiba and why it had so much tea. Colloquialisms are lost on me at this moment, and when she moves my hand I wonder. Does she know how inexperienced I am at all of this, beyond the things we've done together?

"Me too," I admit after a long minute, searching her eyes for something ineffable. Whatever it is, I feel like I see it in the way she's looking at me. When I kiss her this time, it feels different, like the openness and nervousness and wonder I feel when I'm with her is all in it. Like I'm not playing at being someone else.

[warehousenextgen]

I think at some point I kind of forget to breathe, at least that's what I tell myself to explain why my breath's so short when the kiss breaks. Doesn't stop me for going for another one, though, it's the one thing that I've really got a good handle on right now seeing as how my head's spinning in about a million directions. It brings me a weird kind of focus and always kinda has. He brings me focus. The more I'm with Peeta, the closer we are, the less I seem to worry about everything else. The crazy world I live in seems to slow down a little. Especially now. How crazy is that? I've spent the last few years rushing to avert disaster after disaster only to find myself perfectly happy just making out with my boyfriend. Screw the world, I'm totally good right now.

Pete would never let me hear the end of it.

I run my hand up his chest without really thinking about it until I'm playing with the collar of his shirt, idly wondering if this is something we're going to do now or just something we know we're going to do soon. Maybe I should just ask? Not really wanting to break apart I end up speaking in-between kisses, "So, is this, like, moving towards things now, or are we saving that for later? Because if it is, this sofa isn't the most romantic thing and the tin-hat guy is still on the TV and it feels like he's watching. And if it isn't, this sofa still isn't the most romantic thing and it feels like he's watching and maybe we should turn the TV off or something?"

[fuelforthefire]

"You don't like tin-foil hat man watching us?" I ask it with a soft, laugh, knowing that maybe we're getting carried away. I reach for the remote, switching the screen off before letting it drop to the floor, turning back to Claudia and the uncomfortable couch.

This isn't something I want to rush, but it's easy to put things off forever until they become awkward again. We seem to have gotten past that for the moment, and it feels good. "Maybe I could make dinner? It's light late enough, we could have a picnic outside? I even have a bottle of wine I've been saving."

[warehousenextgen]

"No, I do not." I sit back and let Peeta turn off the TV, running a hand through my hair, kinda glad that the moment's passed. I mean, not, like super-glad, but glad. We wanna have sex, which is kind of awesome and scary but there's no reason to rush into things. Not that we're rushing. I mean, we've been going kind of normal I guess? I wouldn't know and all the people I might ask aren't here.

Like Steve.

But that's not something I want to dwell on right now, not when things are going so well. "Dinner seems good, great even." And the wine sounded even better.

[fuelforthefire]

My stomach grumbles when she says that, and I smile, deciding that there's time for one last kiss before I worry about dinner and picnics and what might happen later. I don't really drink much, but I've been holding onto some wine for some sort of celebration. This isn't a party by any means, but it seems like the right time for it.

"You do what you were doing. I need twenty minutes in the kitchen."

[warehousenextgen]

"I'll time you, don't think I won't." After the kiss, I shoo him off and I pick up the guitar. Not really sure what I'm doing with it yet, I don't think anything I come up with will ever be any good, but I still pick at it. Maybe someday inspiration would strike. Maybe someday, pigs would streak across the sky.

So instead I find myself picking at the chords to a Garbage song. Claire's favorite, one I remember her playing which really does even more wonderful things to my mood. But it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would, I mean, at least I know she's alive somewhere and when I see Artie again, I'll twist his beard until he tells me where.

[fuelforthefire]

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?”

[warehousenextgen]

"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?"

[fuelforthefire]

"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.

[warehousenextgen]

"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.

[fuelforthefire]

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?”

[warehousenextgen]

I feel a little bad when I see him struggle to get on the ground but I don't really say anything. It had been his idea, after all, and if he couldn't do it he wouldn't have suggested it. Taking my glass I have to think a moment, what should we toast to? Our awesome relationship? The fact that we were here and kinda sorta in love? Friendship? Survival?

"Your wine, your toast." That takes care of that nicely. Total cop-out, I know, but what's a girl to do?

[fuelforthefire]

"Is that how it is?" I laugh and shake my head, wondering if we can hand this back and forth for a few more rounds, or if I should commit and say something. The latter, probably, and not for the first time I wish that my talent of knowing what to say in front of cameras could translate into my life. "To tin foil hats, and the fact that we don't need them. And... To us, and today."

[warehousenextgen]

"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.

[fuelforthefire]

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.