Chapter Text
"Do you think Peeta will finally propose?"
Johanna's question catches me off guard. "Propose?" I repeat, only too aware that I know exactly what she means and I'm only trying to buy more time while I process her question. And my response.
"Yeah, dummy. You two have been together for years now. Don't tell me you think one of you might think there's someone else out there for you. You two are so in love and perfect for each other, it's gross."
The question makes me feel uneasy. Because I'm mid-conversation, I don't have the additional resources at the moment to examine why. I'm just grateful this is over the phone, and Johanna can't see my reaction for herself. I'm transported back to those moments in the cave, years ago, when I wanted to close the curtains to keep prying minds out of my personal business.
"Oh. I don't know," I give what I hope is a convincing light laugh. "What do we need to get married for, anyways?"
There's a beat in which I sense Johanna may be conceding I actually have a point. "You District 12 types always seemed so traditional, I just assumed you would want to," she finally says. "It doesn't matter to me either way."
A silent sense of relief washes over me as I realize she isn't going to press me any further. I try to think up an adequate response, but she changes the subject before I even have a chance to do so.
"So what's Peeta making for your birthday?"
Another question I'm unprepared to answer, but at least this one isn't as loaded as the first. I give her an answer that I barely register, and after some small talk about my birthday plans, she moves on to some story about something in her own district.
I'm still thinking about the conversation hours later. Johanna's question really dug under my skin. Why, I couldn't tell you. Not the one about my birthday; that's never been something I've made a big show of. It's the question of whether or not Peeta will propose.
Since the war ended, Peeta and I have basically been left alone by the Capitol, the press, and everyone but our remaining loved ones. For this, I couldn't be more grateful. It allowed Peeta and me to grow back together and pick up the maimed pieces of our fractured relationship so we could knot them back together. It was something we could only have done in privacy, and it was sorely needed. I'm still grateful that everyone left that part of us alone when we needed it most.
But maybe in the privacy, we grew too complacent? Would marriage be the next step? Is it supposed to be?
District 12 has always been one of the more traditional districts in Panem. Old-fashioned, some have even called us. Maybe we are, though things have changed since the district borders opened to others. I had never planned to marry when I was a kid. But there was no denying it was considered the natural culmination for anyone in a romantic relationship at the time.
I ruminate over it as I prepare dinner for us that night. Should Peeta be proposing? The more I think about it, the more confused I become. Maybe he should propose. Maybe it's something he should have done already. Why hasn't he?
My stomach drops at the thought. Is there a reason he hasn't proposed? No. I shake my head slightly to clear it. Of course not. Peeta and I have a great relationship now, even if it started out so rocky. Everything is so peaceful between us now, marriage isn't even necessary.
Right?
He comes home and kisses me on the cheek in greeting, just as he always does. "How was your day?" he asks me.
"Fine," I say, trying to sound as normal as possible. But am I imagining the peevish edge in my tone? Maybe, because Peeta doesn't seem to show any sign of noticing it. I ask about his day in return and learn it was fine as well. Then we sit down and enjoy our dinner together.
I was right, I think to myself as I relax while we eat. This is easy. Peaceful. There's nothing wrong with us. Not anymore. This is what I want forever.
My eyes fall on my parents' wedding picture, which I have nestled on a shelf I can see from the doorway to the kitchen. They wanted forever, too. Look what happened when they made it official.
You're just scared, a voice says in my head. There's no doubt it's the influence of my old head doctor, Dr. Aurelius. This was the kind of thing he would help me with back when Peeta and I were still trying to find our way back to each other. Honestly, I probably wouldn't have what I have with Peeta today if I hadn't had Dr. Aurelius's help. That doesn't make it any less annoying having his advice haunt me now.
"What do you want to do for your birthday? Peeta's words cut through my thoughts. It's jarring, being torn from this new conundrum, but I'm grateful for the distraction. Even if I don't have a suitable answer to his question.
"I don't know," I say with a shrug. I've never been one to celebrate my birthday much, even back before I was reaped and my family was still around. Peeta has made a few more efforts over the years, refusing to let me forget the day entirely. According to him, we should celebrate that we've been given the chance to celebrate them at all. I'm not saying he's wrong. But they've never felt the same since the war.
Peeta lifts a brow. "I guess I'll just have to surprise you, then," he says with a mischievous glint.
For some reason, I'm back to thinking about the proposal thing again. I know it's common for marriage proposals to happen around special events, like holidays. Or birthdays. In the Capitol, they even like to make a big deal about them, putting on lavish events for when they pop the question. Things are a lot more simple in District 12, but even here they were considered a special occasion.
We're three days from my birthday. And over the course of the ensuing three days, it seems I'm hit by a barrage of weddings and proposals. Some famous person from the Capitol gets proposed to on the news program the next night. One of the workers at Peeta's bakery takes time to attend his sister's wedding. But the real kicker comes when Delly arrives the day before my birthday to announce she and Thom are getting married.
"That's great, Delly!" Peeta seems genuinely thrilled for her. "Congratulations!"
"I know! Isn't it just the greatest?" she gushes, holding out her hand to show off the modest engagement ring Thom had bestowed on her. "I've been waiting for Thom to propose, and he finally did! Oh, I can't wait to tell my brother." Delly launches into an explanation of all her plans to tell people, and what she wants to do for the celebration. "It'll be a traditional District 12 ceremony, of course, with a toasting and everything," she says.
Peeta smiles. "I'll make the bread."
Delly's face lights up. "Oh, thank you, Peeta! I was hoping you would!"
I do my best to seem as excited for Delly's pending nuptials as she and Peeta both are. But I can't help the sinking feeling that settles in me. With the lively conversation around me, though, I don't really have a chance to examine what exactly it is.
"Well, Katniss and I both are really happy for you. Right, Katniss?" Peeta says the last part in such a pointed way, I realize I must be coming across as rude. I realize I haven't said too much tonight.
"Yes, of course!" I say, forcing myself to give a big grin. Just to make up for things, I even lean in and give her a hug.
"Thank you, Katniss!" If Delly had noticed anything about my behavior, she does a good job of hiding it. "Well, I should be getting back. I still need to fix our dinner for tonight!"
We both walk her to the door and bid our farewells. As soon as the door closes behind her, Peeta turns on me. "What was that?" he asks.
"What do you mean?" It doesn't sound at all convincing. I usually can't hide my moods from Peeta, not after we've been together for so long. But I haven't even had a chance to figure out for myself what's bothering me.
"Delly just announced some big news. And you barely acknowledged it at all. Except for that hug at the end." Peeta makes a face that shows he could tell that hug was an act. He's gotten good at spotting them over the years.
"I don't know," I say, shrugging and turning away from him.
"It's a big deal," he says. "It should be celebrated."
I wouldn't know, I think to myself. And that's when I figure out what it is that's bothering me. I excuse myself because I need some time to work through these feelings on my own. Peeta also knows me well enough by now to know when to give me space. But I can tell he's feeling a little annoyed right now.
Join the club.
The issue doesn’t come up again for the rest of the night, though there’s a chill in the air between us. We still share our bed that night, but there are no kisses before the lights go out. There definitely isn’t anything else.
Despite all this, Peeta is awake before I am the next morning. I find him puttering around the kitchen when I go down. He turns when he hears me coming, flashes a brow as if to say he’s not sure how he should act, or how I’m feeling. “Happy birthday.” Even with the greeting, I sense the apprehension in his voice.
The sight of him cooking breakfast for me on my birthday makes me feel guilty for how I acted last night. I still haven’t figured out what was bothering me. Maybe it was just pre-birthday jitters. Either way, I decide to let it go.
“Thanks,” I offer him a smile. He visibly relaxes at the sight of it. “I made breakfast,” he continues. “Lots of cheese buns.”
I melt a little. Even after all these years, he knows I still love his cheese buns and he still makes them, especially for me. I cross over and kiss him. “Thank you,” I say. I sit down at the table and let him serve me breakfast.
My birthdays are usually quiet, and this year has been no different. Peeta took the day off at the bakery so he could spend time with me. I’d just as soon forget about it, and pretend it’s any other day. He’s the opposite and thinks we should savor every birthday we’ve been given. I can’t resist letting him do so, and so my birthdays usually have some sort of celebration anyways.
Today, it’s a small birthday dinner with our friends still in District 12. I field phone calls from my mother, Annie, Johanna, and even Effie beforehand. With that out of the way, we sit down for our meal, followed by the cake Peeta made for me.
“Great cake,” Thom says as he shovels another piece into his mouth.
“Peeta always made the best cakes, even when we were kids,” Delly tells him. “He has to make the cake for our wedding, too.”
Peeta smiles. “Of course. I’d be happy to, Delly.”
Just like that, the feeling from last night returns.
It’s normal for me to be quieter than everyone else. It always has been. But tonight, I must seem quieter than usual, because, after about 15 minutes of wedding chatter, Haymitch speaks up.
“You should probably change the subject because Birthday Girl here doesn’t look all that thrilled with the subject,” he slurs. He’s already several bottles in and inspecting the bottom of his current bottle, so he doesn’t notice the way everyone turns to look at me. Or the way his comment only puts me in a worse mood.
An awkward silence falls over the group since no one knows what to say. I try to avoid looking at any of them, but I can’t help meeting Peeta’s eyes and seeing his own frustration reflecting back from them. It makes me feel defensive, so I avert my eyes before I say something I’ll regret out loud. Probably I should say something to the group, or apologize, but no words come out. I’ve never been very good at this stuff. And alright, maybe I don’t feel like I should even have to say something in the first place.
“Katniss, I’m so sorry,” Delly finally says. “Here it’s your birthday, and I’m taking all the spotlight!”
“It’s fine,” I mumble.
“No, it’s your birthday! Tonight it’s about you.” A murmur of agreement echoes through the group, and slowly the conversation starts again. But not for long. After another half-hour, Delly and Thom make up an excuse to leave. Greasy Sae follows suit, and when Haymitch sees everyone else is leaving, he does as well.
Despite my mood, or maybe because of it, I follow them to the door and bid them goodnight. Once the door is closed, Peeta turns on me. He’s clearly aggravated now, but I can see he’s trying to hold it back since it’s my birthday and all.
“Alright,” he says. “What is it? What’s bothering you so much?”
“I don’t know!” I say, more forcefully than I mean to.
“Yes you do,” he counters. “Why else would you keep throwing a fit every time Delly brings up her wedding?”
“Why do you care so much about her wedding? Is it because you want to marry her?”
Peeta just stands there, gaping in shock. He’s too taken aback to know what to say. To be honest, so am I, because I hadn’t expected to say that. I’m not even sure I knew I was thinking it. But now that it’s out, there’s no taking it back, and now I feel like I have to defend myself.”
“Of course not!” Peeta finally sputters. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, you’re sure obsessed with a wedding for someone who doesn’t want one!” I turn before I get to see his reaction and march out of the room.
I need out of the house. It’s too stuffy in here. I need to be outside where I can see the stars and the moon. My legs carry me to the back porch and immediately feel some relief when I’m alone. I pause, take a deep breath, then settle down on the edge of the porch with my legs dangling over the side while I ponder the darkness that stretches out in front of me.
Is that what’s bothering me? No, I know Peeta doesn’t want to marry Delly. He’s had plenty of chances in his life. He would have done it long ago if there were any interest there. They’re like siblings. And Peeta loves me. We have a bond no one else could replicate, after everything we’ve been through together.
So why doesn’t he want to make it permanent? A shiver courses through me as I realize I’ve struck the heart of the issue. It’s not that I think Peeta wants to marry someone else. It’s because he doesn’t make any effort to marry me.
I guess Johanna’s words really did get the better of me. I never cared about this kind of thing before. I never wanted to get married. Of course, I also never wanted to fall in love either and look how that changed. Would marriage be so bad? My parents did it. So did his. And the toasting ceremony is so inherent in District 12’s customs, maybe a small part of me really would like to participate in one.
Heavy footsteps come up from behind me; Peeta stops when he reaches me. “Can I sit down?” he asks. I nod, and he settles in beside me. For a long while, we both stare into the night in silence.
“I’m sorry,” Peeta says at last. I turn to look at him, surprised. “Delly is right. It’s your birthday.”
I’m taken aback, so all I manage to do is tell him it’s okay. Besides, I’m not even sure how to broach the subject with him.
Finally, he reaches over and closes my hand in his. The warm steadiness his hand brings is immediately soothing, and I feel myself begin to relax. Whatever comes next, it won’t be an argument at least. “What’s bothering you?”
I look at him, and the words nearly come out. I catch myself just in time and look back to my patch of blackness across the yard. I’m relieved I stopped myself from saying anything. And then the words come out anyway. “Why don’t you ask me to marry you?”
Peeta freezes. It’s so abrupt, that I’m almost afraid I’ve triggered one of his episodes somehow, and immediately kick myself for bringing it up. Panic rising in me, I turn to assess the situation. But he’s only staring at me. Shocked, yes. But still unmistakably him.
“I- I didn’t know you wanted to get married,” he says at last.
Yeah, well, that makes two of us. Until today. “I didn’t either,” I admit.
“Then why are you making such a big deal out of it?”
“I’m not making a big deal!” I shoot back, feeling defensive for some reason. But I catch myself because that isn’t going to help us right now. “Johanna asked me when you were going to propose,” I explain. “I guess it just got me thinking.”
“I’ll marry you,” Peeta says. “If that’s what you want.”
Is it? I expect the very prospect to make me feel a sense of panic like I’m trapped or something. I’m surprised when I realize it doesn’t. Aren’t I already planning to spend my life with him anyways?
“Do you want it?” I know he did, back when we were teenagers. Before the hijacking. I know he still loves me. But have his opinions on marriage changed since the Capitol messed with his brain?
Peeta clasps my hand in both of his. “Katniss, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. I just didn’t think you did. I didn’t want to push it.”
“Well… I do,” I finally admit.
A large grin spreads across his face. He turns his body towards me, taking both my hands in both of his. “Then Katniss,” he says, “will you marry me?”
I can’t help smiling myself. For the question, for the fact that this conversation went far better than I was afraid it would. All I had to do was tell him what I wanted. If I had any qualms about our future together, that already makes me feel much better. “Yes.”
His face lights up, and a familiar mischievous glint reflects in his eye. “Real or not real?”
My heart warms over, thinking about how I once was so sure this day would never come. First because of my own guarded heart, and then because he was stolen from me. But he is here, and he’s the one birthday present I’ll ever want year after year.
“Real.”