Work Text:
For @lovely-to-the-bone. Who sort of prompted this, along with the visual:
#i never do tags but like #peeta apologizing to katniss about their reunion in 13 #like this #all soft n apologetic
Sorry it took me so long.
Rated T, for mentions of canonical violence, and implied intimate encounters.
The evening starts as usual: we cook dinner together, set the table and one of us runs to Haymitch’s to drag him over for supper. After dinner, Peeta and Haymitch play a few turns of their permanent chess game set up in the study, while I tackle the dirty dishes, since I’m feeling generous.
I join the guys in the study when I’m done in the kitchen, and curl up in a cozy chair with a book my mother sent from District 4 a while ago. It’s an easy read, just a few poems about flowers and plants that usually keeps my mind relaxed and distracted. The guys share a few quiet chuckles, and I smile at my book absentmindedly. I can’t help it. Laughter sometimes feels a little alien to us, but the sound is becoming more and more frequent with every season that passes.
Dr. Aurelius isn’t completely useless after all. He’s encouraged us to keep simple routines in our day to day, and so far we’ve found it beneficial for all of us.
After a while, Haymitch starts bouncing his leg anxiously. A clear sign he’s ready for a drink, and since Peeta and I discourage the use of liquor in our house, the old man cracks his knuckles and calls it a night after moving his piece. I wish we could break him out of the habit, but we all have our coping mechanisms; Haymitch’s happens to be at the bottom of a bottle. At least his alcohol intake has decreased some since he started raising his geese. The feathered monsters can be a handful tough, but they keep Haymitch preoccupied enough to stay sober at times.
I count that as a plus.
“I’ll walk you home.” Peeta tells Haymitch as soon as our old mentor stands from his rocking chair. His tone is casual, jovial even, but Haymitch and I know Peeta so well, we pick up the hidden message. He wants a word, privately.
“Sure. It’s been a long day, and I may need an extra pair of hands to help me secure the geese’s hatch. The stupid birds keep pecking at it. Soon they’ll be running wild all over the place.” Haymitch drawls, scratching his chin.
His sharp Seam eyes search Peeta’s countenance before cutting to me in something that could pass as boredom, if wasn’t for the way his eyebrow twitches.
I shrug infinitesimally, letting him know that I neither know what’s Peeta up to, or have any objections on the matter.
Haymitch shrugs too, and plucks an apple turnover from a plate by their chess table. “Sweetheart,” He nods and salutes me, stuffing his mouth obnoxiously full of pastry. He slouches out of the room beckoning Peeta to follow him. “Alright, Boy, lets get on with it. That hatch ain't gonna fix itself.”
By the time Peeta comes back, I’m getting ready for bed.
He joins me in the bathroom, as another of our nightly routines, we take turns using the toilet and then wash our faces and brush our teeth together at the sink. It should feel strange going to the bathroom with a boy, but after moving in together and becoming a real couple, Peeta and I have grown comfortable with each other— in my case— comfortable enough to be human in front of him.
I keep looking at him through the mirror over the sink though. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet since returning from Haymitch’s.
“Everything okay?” I ask around a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Hmm.” He grunts in ascent, switching water in his mouth before spitting it out. “Yeah.” He says, but sounds unconvinced.
I rinse my mouth and dry my lips with a towel, still studying his face while he tidies up the counter.
“You know you can tell me if anything is bothering you, right?” I say unraveling my braid and combing out the strands with my fingers.
“I know.” He tells me softly. After a minute, he stutters a breath. “It’s just… I don’t wanna bother ‘you’.” He says looking at me sheepishly, and then stands behind me with my hair brush.
He loves helping me brushing and rebranding my hair, so I let him do it every night. He’s gotten almost as good as I too. Normally, this is my favorite time of our grooming routine. Having him play with my hair relaxes and soothes me like nothing else; but tonight I just stew in his words.
I come to the conclusion that whatever’s on his mind, has to be awful for him to think he’ll upset me by it.
I scowl, and dig deep for some courage; after all he’s done for me, the least I can do is repay his kindness and help him out, even if it’s something that could potentially send me cowering under the covers for days.
“Peeta,” I turn to face him, running my hand up and down his muscled arm. “We’re in this together. No matter what. You can tell me anything.” I tell him honestly.
He sighs heavily.
He holds my hand and together we walk into our bedroom. He motions for me to sit on the bed, then lowers himself next to me. It takes him another moment to gather his thoughts, finally, his eyes find mine, holding my whole attention.
“Today in my call with Dr. Aurelius, we talked about apologizing to people I’ve physically hurt. Even if they’re not around anymore.”
“Oh,” I breathe out. “That’s a tall order. I’m so sorry, Peeta.” I say taking his hand in mine. By my count, all the people Peeta ever touched violently, died right after. “It must’ve been hard for you, trying to make amends like that.”
He shakes his head. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I mean, I felt myself slipping at one point, but I managed to stay in my own mind…” he trails off, his blue eyes glass over, and for a moment I’m frightened an episode is coming, but then his eyes refocus on me. And it’s not better when he holds my gaze.
So much sadness and guilt, a chill runs up my spine.
“Apologizing to the dead wasn’t the hard part.” He confesses softly, gently. “There’s one person I hurt, who’s still here, breathing. Alive. The problem is she’s the hardest one to even start talking to, because I can’t quite remember what happened, or what was actually said or done to trigger the attack.” Peeta’s voice breaks a little, his eyes intense on mine. “My mind was so confused. Whatever happened during those moments when fear gripped my like a vice, is fogged up in my memory, and some people may say is for the better, because who’ll want to know the monstrosities one is capable of…?”
I try to remain oblivious to what he’s saying, but his meaning is hard to miss when spoken with such vehemence.
He continues, “What I know about the incidents, is only what I was told by others. At first, I didn’t believe a word of it.” He shakes his head and looks away in shame for a moment, “Not until I saw footage of myself acting like a rabid mutt. A madman, killing an innocent just to get to a defenseless girl, who didn’t do anything to hurt me. Not really.”
My heartbeat quickens at his words. Pain and fear snake around my chest, wrapping tightly over my heart, and breathing becomes a chore. I shake my head, “It wasn't like that... it wasn’t—“ a small noise, like a sob, cuts the rest of my words short.
“Katniss,” this time is Peeta squeezing my hand in his. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. As I said, the last thing I want, is to upset you.”
I shake my head and manage to croak out, “No, Peeta, I think we have to. I’m not terribly keen on remembering those days, but like everything in our lives, we need to face our fears and stop pretending they’re not there.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. “What do you need to know?” I ask before my resolve disappears.
“I’m not sure. Honestly, I want nothing less than to know all the awful things I did and said to you then, Sweetheart. But it feels wrong, hypocritical, apologizing to you without first owning my crimes and shortcomings.”
My heart breaks a little. For both of us.
All the mess up stuff done to us, and even now we have to fight to get away from the pain they caused us.
“Is that why you wanted to speak to Haymitch alone?” I ask, “To learn from him what happened that day? The day you—“ my hand goes to my neck involuntarily, but the words I whisper are less threatening, less damning. “The day you were rescued from the Capitol,”
Peeta sighs a tremulous “Yes.” After a pause, he explains, quietly, “I had to know, and Haymitch wouldn’t sugar coat it or lie about it to spare my sanity.” We’re silent for a moment and then he brings my hand to his lips. “I’m sorry I let them turn me into that monster, Katniss.”
I’m not sure what exactly happens next, but one soft, apologetic kiss, turns into two, three, six, ten. His lips hover, feather like, over the skin of my wrist, traveling to my forearm and then keeps going up to my shoulder. Our eyes stay entranced unto one another, as much as we can sitting like we are. An unbreakable connection. The apology is etched in the depths of his intense blue eyes, and I don’t have the power to look away or deny him this.
Sitting side by side, requires some readjustment when Peeta’s kisses reach my neck. My eyes finally shut when his hot breath fans over the place my skin tingles with the memory of finger shaped bruises.
“I’m so sorry, Katniss.” He murmurs against my throat. “I’m sorry I became a piece in their games.” His kisses go from tight lipped, to open mouthed, and his hand cups my cheek to keep my head in place as he paints apologies over my neck and throat.
“I’m sorry I let them turn me against you, darling.” His free hand wraps around my waist lightly, “I allowed them to turn me into a weapon, to destroy you. I’m sorry my mind was so warped, they almost succeeded.”
“But you’re better now,” I exclaim wrapping my fingers around his, abruptly turning to face him completely.
My eyes fill with tears because his real self is here, with me, and none of the schemes the Capitol or Coin tried to use, to put us as odds with each other, worked.
They lost! And against the odds, we won. Another day this victory will seem empty and small, but not tonight. Tonight, knowing Peeta reclaimed his mind back and came home to help me do the same, is all that matters.
“You’re better now,” I repeat, and then is me kissing his mouth, holding him tight, “You’re you. My Peeta. My sweet, tender Boy with the bread.” Every word is marked with a peck to his lips, cheeks, eyes. “They couldn’t break you, not completely. You broke free at the end. You brought yourself back to me.”
He pulls me flushed against him then. “Oh, Sweetheart, I’ll always come back to you. You’re my entire life. My safe heaven. My home.”
“And you are mine.”
We lean into each other. Our kisses rapidly escalates from reassuring press of the lips, to hungry exploration of each other’s mouths.
Our bodies slowly lower to the mattress; our hands roam freely under sleep wear and my fingers tangle in his soft hair. We move fluidly, in familiar, comforting motions together.
Peeta kisses my jawline up and down; one warm hand slides from my side, up to my shoulder and around to caress over my collarbones with gentle, loving fingers.
“I don’t think I will ever be able to stop apologizing for hurting you,” He says placing small kisses behind my ear. “Hijacked or not.” He nudges me back, until my head falls on my pillow. “But I pledge to spend the rest of my life trying.” He promises before shifting himself to hover above me.
I cradle his hips between mine, but Peeta contents himself with just resting his weight there while his clever, caring fingers massage the skin on my neck tenderly.
“Please, Katniss. Could you ever forgive me for what I did? I keep trying to picture myself wrapping my hands around your neck with the intent to harm you, and I just—”
“I know. That wasn’t you.” I tell him caressing his face.
His eyes shine with unshed tears. “But maybe it was though.” He says miserably. “Everyone keeps saying they use venom to twist my feelings for you until I couldn’t even recognize myself, but what if the hatred and resentment had been there all along? There’s an all consuming rage deep within me, Katniss. It ran in my mother’s veins. I could feel it in mine too, dormant, simmering beneath the surface. I kept a short leash on it when I could help it, but the Capitol found it, dug it out, and magnified it to use against you. How could you ever forgive me for almost choking the life out of you?”
“Peeta,” I sigh to the ceiling, curling my fingers into the hair at his nape, bringing his face deeper into the crook of my neck where I can keep him safe from himself, “I forgave you the moment you remembered your promise of ‘Always’.” I tell him looping my other arm around his shoulder. “I forgave you because your true self is kind, and loving, and sweet. Maybe there is anger and rage inside you, but your selflessness is far greater. Your will power is what makes me love you. You came back from the mutt, and that’s why forgiving you was so easy. You didn’t let it eat you up like Snow and Coin expected. You’re stronger than that.”
How could I ever doubt a boy who’s always put my well-being before his own? How could I believe he would purposely hurt me, when his actions spoke so loudly to the contrary in the past?
To show him I trust him intrinsically and accept his apology without reservations, I tilt my head back, presenting him with my bare throat. I don’t care if this position leaves me vulnerable, I know he loves me, and despite all those walls I built around my heart to keep me from falling in love, I’ve finally admitted, I love him back.
“Thank you, Katniss. For having faith in me. For giving me another chance and not giving up on me in those sewers.”
“You didn’t give up on me either. I think we are finally on leveled ground.”
I feel his smile against my cheek before his lips find my own.
“I will still spend the rest of my life, making it up to you, Sweetheart.” He whispers into my jaw, his other hand joins the sweet ministrations of the first one, pouring his devotion into each one of his light touches over my clavicle and throat, as if trying to sooth the memory of the bruises away… he may just manage to erase them for good if he keeps kissing me like this.
He’s etching his adoration and love for me with so much reverence on every inch of flesh he can reach.
His caresses and kisses descend from my face to my clavicle, his hands move the thin material of my night shirt down my arms, revealing yet more skin, and his reverent kisses turn into hungry nips and pecks, that only serves to make our hunger greater. Our hands seek more skin, more warmth, more friction, not quite satisfying.
We’ve made love almost every night since the day I told him my love for him is real, but tonight, when we join our bodies and become one, is different. With every gasp, caress and whispered promise, we make right a wrong, and put a painful episode behind us. We heal, forgive, and forget.
As his strokes and soothes my neck with tender touches, I know in my heart, that we will be okay.
We still have a long road ahead of us. What we went through has left deep wounds physical and emotional, that won’t heal overnight; we will have to work very hard to overcome guilt, sadness, and anger, but tonight, we’ve grown in our love, and that’s one more reason to smile than we had yesterday.
Maybe one day laughter won’t be alien anymore.