peeta mellark is the dandelion in the spring (inthespring) wrote in the100, @ 2015-05-24 17:44:00 |
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It wasn’t very long after Peeta came over that the lights went out. It felt like longer, simply because Katniss felt awkward; wanting to reach out, wanting to help, but not wanting to make him afraid of her, or even just afraid of the possibility that he might hurt her. But she couldn’t just let him go. Hadn’t been able to leave him behind, let him put himself out of his misery, and it might be a whole lot of misery inside of his hijacked mind. She couldn’t imagine what it was like. The sudden darkness startled her so much that it took her a moment to move. She’d explored the place enough to know where the candles were, and after a bit of rustling around she came up with one and managed to light it. Then she looked back over at Peeta, and his expression scared her more than the darkness. Maybe it was just the candlelight throwing strange shadows on his face, maybe it was just fear of the dark-- or maybe he had gone somewhere deeper inside his mind, where the tracker jacker venom had taken hold and created even more nightmares for him. Cold, claustrophobic, and scared-- unsure whether the darkness or Peeta was more of a threat to her safety-- Katniss whispered, “Peeta?” -- Peeta had known coming over here was a bad idea. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d tried to kill Katniss. That he’d killed the man who had stopped him. Maybe it had been an accident, maybe he hadn’t meant to do it, but he’d meant to kill Katniss moments before, Seeing himself act like that on the screens had scared him more than anything he’d faced in the arena. He still didn’t understand why they’d all refused to kill him for what he’d done. He wasn’t himself anymore, not in those moments when his programming kicked in. Katniss had pleaded with him, though, she’d reasoned with him and even though he saw the flaws all over her logic, and Peeta had caved. Because he missed her, too. Because he wanted to see to see her. After everything, he still found it impossible to deny Katniss what she wanted or needed, even when he knew he should. The rain had been okay. He had been okay. Things were awkward between them, as they always were lately, but Peeta had been able to keep ahold of himself. But then they were plunged into darkness as suddenly as the flip of a switch and something inside Peeta snapped, too. A very small part of him knew where he was, knew he was with Katniss and she wasn’t really the enemy and he fought to hold onto that, but his control was slipping fast. “Katniss, Katniss, go. Get out of here before I- I can’t-” He was second away from lunging at her, from doing more damage than any mere blackout ever could. -- There was no real way out. Going to get the candles had put her farther away from the door, and if she tried to move fast, Katniss knew she’d set him off. She would have to move around him to get out. She had the candle in her hand, she could defend herself with it, but that would mean hurting Peeta. Trying to get away was probably the better idea. It was what Peeta wanted her to do, so she had to try. She set the candle aside, dared to take one small, slow step to the side, into the shadow. Instantly she knew it was a bad idea. The movement had made it worse, and she had only seconds-- if that-- to figure out how to keep him from attacking her. He’d come over here because she’d asked him to, if he ended up hurting her, he might never forgive her-- or himself. And she’d have done it to him. She couldn’t let that happen. It was risky, maybe it was suicide, but it was the only thing she could think to do. She closed the short distance between them, pressed her hands to each of his cheeks, and kissed him. -- The part of Peeta that wanted Katniss to get out was fading quickly and he went from telling her to get away one moment to being on the verge of attacking her the next. Every step she took only enraged him. Whatever amount of control he had on himself was slipping too fast. She wasn’t going to be able to get out quickly enough, but the part of him that wanted her too had suddenly gone silent. Just before he could act on the impulse to attack her, Katniss’ hands were on his face and her lips were on his. Peeta froze in that instant, not sure how to react. At first, the impulse to hurt her remained, but then it was gone, like someone had flipped a switch inside his head. Gradually, he came back to himself, to reality, and he found himself returning the kiss automatically for a moment before he realized fully what had just happened and he pulled back. “Katniss,” he whispered, a dozen different emotions filling that one simple word. -- He froze, and Katniss didn’t know what that meant. But the moments kept passing, and his hands hadn’t encircled her throat, even though she was well within reach. When she felt him return the kiss, a flood of relief filled her, and she wanted to press closer against him, but he pulled away. She let him go, and slowly lowered her hands. “Peeta,” she said, her voice coming out rougher than she’d intended it. Her heart was beating hard, not just with adrenaline, and she felt equal parts ridiculous for what she’d just done (which had been suicidally dangerous), and utterly grateful that it had worked. “Are you okay?” -- “You- you shouldn’t have done that. I could have killed you!” Peeta’s heart was racing, but he wasn’t sure if it was from fear over what he could have done to her, what he’d almost done, or if it was from the kiss and from standing this close to her. Coming over here had been a mistake, considering what had just happened, but he couldn’t seem to make himself go. Him being near Katniss was dangerous, but at the same time he craved this proximity. He told himself over and over that he should go. He just couldn’t seem to make himself do it. -- “You would have killed me if I hadn’t,” Katniss pointed out. Anything she had done, to try to flee or fight, would have only made it worse. This had, somehow, diffused the situation enough that he still seemed to have himself under control. She’d kissed him before in order to survive, but this was different. That had been to help them both get out of the arena, and she’d thought very little about Peeta’s feelings on the subject. This wasn’t for anyone else who might be watching, just for him, and for her. Because she still needed him to survive, here and everywhere. The prospect of being dead was almost a relief by comparison to the idea of him hating her forever, and she’d been struggling to find a way to help him. To bring him back. Maybe this was the way. It was still strategy, still survival-- but it was less about their lives and more about saving everything that made him Peeta. She hadn’t moved away yet, and she dared to get even closer, kissing him again. More softly, less urgently, wanting to reassure them both that it was going to be alright. And then she said, quietly: “Real.” -- Any small hope Peeta had of making his feet move vanished when she kissed him again. This time, Peeta was fully in his own mind rather than fighting for control and he was able to appreciate kissing Katniss a little more. There was very little hesitation before he returned it this time, his arms slipping around her and pulling her close. Some part of him knew Katniss was only kissing him to keep him calm or to keep him from losing himself and trying to kill her again. He knew she wasn't doing it for the reasons he was, but for a moment, he didn't care. "Katniss," he breathed her name like prayer as they parted. They were still close enough together that he could feel her breath on his face, but once again, he couldn't seem to make himself move away, even when he knew he should. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked, speaking more to himself than to her. This whole situation between them was impossible. He was programmed to kill her, but neither of them could seem to stay away from one another. -- The sound of her name only made Katniss press closer to him, grateful for the simple fact that she could. She didn’t know how she really felt about him, if Finnick had been right when he’d said that she loved him, but she knew that she needed him. She needed him on her side, needed him to be the voice and the conscience that only Peeta could truly be. And she needed the safety and steadiness that his arms provided. She had been lost enough in her own world, facing impossible odds and trying to play a heavily weighted game against power players whose motives she didn’t always understand, but here it was almost worse. There had always been something to focus on, at home. Recently it had just been killing Snow, ending the war and the Games. Here… well, she had hunting. She had Finnick and Annie and Johanna, and she sort of had Peeta. She wasn’t in the arena, but she still didn’t know if she’d survive here, or if she’d ever manage to get back to her own world. She couldn’t even begin to conceive of how it was possible to be in another world, another universe entirely. Even after she’d stopped kissing him, she stayed close. Her arms went around his broad shoulders, and her fingertips curled into his shirt. “I need you,” she whispered back. It was selfish, and horrible, and she was asking too much of him-- more than he should give her, although she knew he would do it. Because there was still some part of him that loved her, underneath everything that had been done to him in the Capitol. “So don’t stay away from me. I need you here.” |