I don't own the Hunger Games. Also, Lemons. Stop reading if you aren't into Lemons.
The Capitol bed was comfortable, as was the thin nightgown I was provided. I closed my eyes, willing myself to get some much needed sleep. But sleep wouldn't come. My mind would not shut off. I sighed, climbed out of bed, and walked out into the hall. Maybe I could get a snack to distract me. I then thought of the roof, a quiet spot to think, as Cinna had put it. I found the door ajar when I approached it, and after a look around the well kept garden, I found Peeta, sitting on the edge of the roof, his knees pulled up to his chest. He stared down below, watching the celebrations the Capitol people were having on our behalf.
"You couldn't sleep either?" I asked cautiously. He didn't look at me, just shook his head. I sat silently across from him, watching his face intently. He seemed like he had so much to say.
"... It's just that all of this is so surreal. All these people, rooting for us all to kill each other. Isn't it bad enough that we are dying of starvation and lacking every day on our own? And then here I am, with you, knowing that there is no chance both of us will make it home. I finally have a chance to talk to you, to get you on your own, and there is no hope for a future with us."
His eyes flitted quickly to my face, his own red from his words. I tried to absorb what he'd just said, but it didn't make sense. I met his eyes, silently asking for an explanation.
" I know you probably hate me. That day, with the bread. I should have come to you, instead of throwing it to you like you were another one of the pigs."
"You saved our lives that day, Peeta! You gave me strength to figure out how to save my family, and ... I am in debt to you for the rest of my life... no matter how short."
We were both quiet for a while, watching the party. Peeta made a game of throwing pebbles into the force field that prevented us from jumping off the building, and then I would catch them when they flew back.
I don't know why I felt so comfortable opening up to this boy, who in a few days would essentially become as much my opponent as anyone.
"I never really wanted a family of my own, or to get married... is it strange that I'm mourning these things now? Most likely, I will never fall in love, get married, make love..." This time I couldn't look him in the eye.
"I've had a crush on you since we were 5 years old!" Peeta blurted out. At the look of his face, his words made him feel slightly sick. Stunned at the confirmation of what he was alluding to earlier, I gave him a shy smile in return.
"Your hair was in 2 braids instead of one, and you wore a little blue frock. Our teacher asked if anyone knew the Valley Song, and you threw your hand up and started to sing. Your voice was so beautiful, even then. I swear, the birds stopped chirping to listen to you." He briefly looked me in the eye, turning quickly back to the party. He had spent his courage it seems.
"Peeta," I said, my voice catching nervously. "Thank you, for saving me." He nodded sadly. "If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to silently fall in love with you for the past 5 years." I scooted toward him, shocked that anyone would think those things about me, and feeling a sense of camaraderie of him, my own single token from home. The boy with the bread.
I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. It happened so quickly, it caught me off guard. Peeta got to his feet, stood in front of me, cupped my face and kissed me, properly kissed me. His lips were soft and gentle, exploring and experimental. I realized that this was most likely my last chance at experiencing anything but the need to survive.
No one knew we weren't safely tucked into bed. For the first time since I stood up to volunteer for Prim, I had an illusion of freedom. Why not take advantage?
I wrapped my arms around him, parted my legs and he stepped closer to me. I pressed my breasts against his chest, hoping in my inexperienced mind that he would understand what it was that I needed, wanted from him. His gentle kiss stopped being so gentle with this gesture. His fingers tugged my hair and his tongue parted my lips into my mouth. I moaned softly, the noise surprising me.
He stopped for a moment, staring at me. "You're so beautiful." I leaned in to kiss him again. He placed his hand lightly on my shoulder, stopping me. "Katniss, I don't think you really want this. Me." "Yes." I told him, trying to be as solemn as possible against my growing desire. "What about Gale?" I looked down. "I have never felt what I'm feeling right now for anyone. But you." He smiled at me, pulling me close, so that our entire torsos were pressed together. "Just say you won't regret it, because if we go any further ... I won't be able to stop ... " He peppered sweet kisses against my neck. "Please, Peeta, please don't stop." My nightgown rode up, exposing the whole of my oddly smooth legs and the center of immodest string they called underwear in this place. He pushed his hardness toward me, and it made my heartbeat quicken. He slipped his strong hands underneath, letting out a low masculine hum as he felt my skin for this first time. Gentlyh he traced the underside of my breast, leaving goosebumps in his wake. I gasped, desire filling my being and my senses.
It felt so incredibly good, him touching me. I pulled off his night shirt. His shoulders were broad and taut, and I did not resist the urge to run my hands across his smooth chest. I moved down, taking his pants with me. I felt the rise of his bottom, taut and warm. Cautiously, I moved my hands to the front of him, watching his face closely as his eyes fluttered shut. I felt his incredible hardness, so large in my hand, I had to wonder how he hid it all the time. He exhaled sharply and took my hand in his, guiding it up and down, how he liked being touched.
He stilled my hand, parting us only to pull my nightgown off my body. His eyes roamed my body and drank me in, his breath coming in light pants from his mouth and his eyes slightly glazed over. He kissed the crevice between my neck and shoulder sweetly. "So incredibly gorgeous," he murmured against my skin.
He placed light kisses across my chest, one on the tip of my breast before taking it in his mouth and sucking it lightly. My head was light before I remembered to breathe, my breath coming in an eager hiss. I felt the warmth in my belly starting to build, and Peeta must have felt the same, because he moved my hand away and pulled me close, kissing me deeply before guiding me to a cushioned bench. Slow, determined, and staring intensely into my eyes, he filled me with him. My body amazed me at what it was capable to take in.
I arched my back, wrapping my bare legs around him. He began moving over me, gently as if trying not to break me. I moved my hips with him, encouraging him and repeating his name over and over as the sensations started to build. As I lost control of my body, my eyes started to well, overwhelmed by sensation, writhing underneath him. "Please," I gasped, not knowing exactly what I was pleading for.
He plunged into me, deep and intimate, and I felt his seed spill inside of me and he buried his face in my neck and whispered "I love you Katniss."
My head was fuzzy, lost with distracting, happy thoughts of the boy with the bread, who loved me - Who had now gotten closer to me than anyone else had.
What had I gotten myself in to?