Dealbreakers

"So, why don't you just dump him?" She continues to carelessly slurp her vanilla shake, as if she hadn't just asked me to break up with my boyfriend of three years after it took me a good hour of sitting here and an embarrassing amount of mumbling and fumbling for words - not to mention the afore mentioned amount of years - to even tell her about this.

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

There Johanna goes again. Looks me deep in the eye, rolls hers and laughs. "Let me put it this way. I went to a pub last week. Cute guy, big dick. Finished after three minutes, then refused to go down on me. But had me blow him and rub his asshole. Men." She takes a big bite of her burger.

Mine is still untouched. Not because it doesn't look absolutely delicious, but because this is urgent. Of course, my friend just doesn't seem to get it. "What is the point of that story?"

Apparently, that should be absolutely obvious. At least that's what her face says. "Well I told him to fuck off and never text me. And so should you!"

That is actually offensive. As fuck. "Johanna, Gale isn't one of your one night stands! I love him!"

She scoffs. "Yeah, and if he loved you back he'd eat your pussy. Isn't that right?" I'm not sure she actually directs that question at anyone - I sure as hell don't want to answer - but the waiter that's passing by stops dead in his tracks.

"Is everything alright?", he enquires. I blush madly, and my friend, who apparently has no shame, chuckles, grinns and says: "The food's fantastic, but we seem to have a little disagreement. Maybe you, a guy, can settle it?"

He laughs uncertainly, but nodds. "Let's hear it."

"So her boyfriend", to which she widely gestures at me, "won't go down on her."

"Johanna," I say warningly. Unfazed, she continues: "I believe that a man who loves his girl will eat her out. What do you think?"

That's enough. She knows I'm a super private person, and how much effort it took to trust her with this. Not only does she think it's okay to share it with a total stranger, she also questions my boyfriend's feelings for me! As if having a fucking relationship these days isn't hard enough without outsiders giving their unqalified oponions. Unqualified.

The waiter, meanwhile, is visibly uncomfortable, but tries to shrug it off with a chuckle. "Well I guess I've never had this issue."

Johanna's eyes sparkle with delight upon hearing that information. Fucking awesome, as if she hasn't had enough men between her legs already.. "Good boy," she teases, "Hey Katniss, why don't you go out with this one?"

I can feel how hot my face is, but I don't say anything. Yep, this is over. I just get up, tie my scarf around my neck, quickly grab my coat and purse and go straight for the door. Fuck her. Hope she at least gets to bang that guy, probably has been her intention in the first place. I hear her calling after me through the café's door before it falls shut. Fuck. I don't even notice how hard I've slammed my car's door until a woman that passes by gives me a pissed off look.

"Oh, fuck you", I say to the window and flip her off in a way that she can't see.

A familiar roar goes though the car when I turn the motor on. Halfway down the street, I realise I don't even know where I'm going. As if to further distract me, my phone rings. Probably Johanna. Makes the choice to ignore it so much easier.

I angrily make a right turn. A second afterwards I understand why. I'm instinctively driving home, home where Gale is, thinking nothing is wrong. God, that egotistical asshole. I mean, I'm a modern woman, right? We have jobs, we drive cars and we have orgasms. But of course, my dear boyfriend doesn't feel like going down on me. For this, or that, or whatever reason, something's always come up so far. Until yesterday, when he finally confessed that he thinks it's gross. Like yeah, stick your penis in there but your tongue is too precious.

A red traffic light buys me some time. No, I can't go home.

I spot a bar on the other side of the street. A quick glance at the clock tells me it's 5pm. Not really too early to drink. And it looks fairly small as well, which is good, because I can't be bothered having a bunch of people around me right now.

So, as soon as the light turns green, I pull into the street and park next to a tree. I contemplate whether or not I'll be able to find public transport later, but decide that I don't care. I just need a beer.

When I walk into the pub, a small smile manages to escape me. Only two old men here, one in front of, one behind the bar. The bar itself looks kind of old as well, everything's wooden and the light inside is dimmed. The light from outside comes through the yellow tainted glass of the door, and gives the pub an orange glow. Very peaceful.

The men stop their conversation, and the guy behind the bar gives me a huge grin. "Welcome to Victor's Village, sweetheart. What do you want?"

I scowl at the "sweetheart". "Just beer."

He laughs. His eyes look a little glassy, like he's had too much to drink. His olive skin is somewhat saggy as well, his dark hair unkempt and greasy. "What kinda beer, sweetheart?"

"I don't care", I say with a slightly annoyed tone. "And I'm not your sweetheart."

"Oh, but you are", he says mockingly as he hands me a dark pint. This better be strong.

"Can I just drink in peace?" Damn my voice for going aggressive. I sincerely dislike confrontation.

Apparently, me and my bartender don't have that in common. "You're a fiesty one, aye?"

For peace's sake, I decide not to reply and simply sip on my beer. To not seem to awkward, I take out my phone and immediately regret it. I was right; the missed phone call was Johanna's. Got a couple texts from her, too.

Sorry, didn't mean to make you angry. Thought you'd find it funny!

And, to make it worse:

Got that guy's number though. His name's Peeta and we're going out for a drink tomorrow ;)

Katniss? Come on, talk to me.

No fucking way I'm "talking to her" now. Glad my relationship issues got her a date. Is that guy even of legal age? I didn't really look at him, I'm not into blondes. They all look like boys to me.

I sigh. Alright, he's probably pretty hot. Otherwise Johanna wouldn't go for him.

"Thinking 'bout ya boyfriend, sweetheart?" That snaps me out of it.

"No. Not that it's any of your fucking business." I take a big gulp of beer. It is fairly strong. And already halfway empty. I suddenly become quite aware that I haven't had anything but breakfast today. Total lightweight, fuck me.

"Then what's got ya sighing?"

I slam my beer on the table. "Why do you even care?", I ask exasperatedly.

He chuckles, then shrugs. "I don't. But it's fun to wind ya up."

"Fuck off", I scoff.

"A'ight", he slurrs. "As the lady demands." His friend in the corner laughs, and he walks back over to him.

"Go easy on her, Haymitch." He gives me a soft smile. I smile back fakely, then stare at my beer again.

My phone buzzes.

Hey Catnip, where are you?

Yet another message to ignore. Brilliant.

Just when I look up from my phone, the door opens and one of the most attractive men I've ever seen walks into the pub.I don't even know what a guy like this is doing here, much less by himself. He's got short bronze hair, green eyes and, when he sees me, a dazzling smile. Of course, I'm sure he knows all this.

"The usual, Abernathy", he says to the bartender and sits down next to me with a surprisingly polite face. "And whatever she's having."

While my beer is almost finished, I hadn't really made up my mind about getting another one. But there the bartender is, drawing it without my consent.

"That won't be necessary, I can get it myself", I try to say as calmly as I can. Don't need another fight.

"Oh, I'm sure you can." He winks at me and puts the money on the counter when he receives his own beer. "My name is Finnick, and I insist to be allowed to buy a drink for the most beautiful woman that's ever walked in here. What brings you to my favorite dump?"

Now I'm sure his charming smile and careful choice of words would drop any other woman's panties. Johanna would likely be screwing him in the bathroom a couple minutes from now. But I'm not the kind of girl to fall for charms like his.

"And I insist you let me pay myself", I snap and ignore his question.

"Fiesty, aye?", the bartender laughs as he takes my money. The beer is nice and cold, and I decide to focus all my attention on that. Ironical, though, that the more I drink, the hotter I feel inside.

Finnick laughs. "Like fire. What's your name?"

"Katniss," I reply automatically. Then roll my eyes at myself. Great, encourage him. I have to leave after this beer. I'm feeling way more tipsy than a 22 year old should at this point. No food today and I don't usually drink a lot.

"Like a cat, how fitting", he replies cheekily, then touches my arm. "Do you scratch?"

The bartender bursts out laughing, but I'm not sure I get it. "What?"

Finnick chuckles. "I bet you do", and winks at me.

Much to my disdain, I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. "Does this usually work on women?", I ask coily, trying to hide my embarrassment. Also, alcohol is making me brave.

He flashes me another one of those dazzling smiles. "More often than not. But you're not like the other girls, are you?"

I scowl at him. "Look, if that's supposed to flatter me, it's not gonna work."

"No flattery", he holds up his hands in fake defense. "Just observing." He sips on his beer. Any other man might be nervous, but his self confidence knows no boundaries. "You didn't answer my question. What brings you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing", I retort.

"No, no", he laughs, "I always come here for after work drinks, have a little catch up with Haymitch. Never seen you here though." Finnick smiles in mock sympathy. "Boy troubles?"

"None of your business." But I think the tone of my voice gives it away.

"So yes!" He seems pleased with himself. "Well, if you wanna forget about them for a while, all you gotta do is ask."

Despite myself, I blush again. And then something strange happens. "Just dump him", Johanna's words replay in my head. Some part of me seems to want that. Or at least escape from my relationship for a night.

I really shouldn't.

"Thinking about it?", he asks knowingly. "I'm good." He winks.

And I'm not sure if it's the alcohol, or the day, or just a random act of rebellion. But against my better judgement, lightheadedly, I decide to play along. "I doubt that."

An other beer is being placed in front of me, and I briefly wonder if they've got some kind of agreement. But then Finnick places his hand on my thigh and my more tipsy than I thought I was self feels a rush.

"Do you really?" He begins to draw little patterns, while I think of my boyfriend, and that this is probably cheating, and that I should really leave.

"Yes", I insist. But then he buys a round of shots, to "help me forget", and another one, and another one, and after I don't know how many I'm reduced to a giggling, embarrassing mess practically dragging him into his car.

We barely make it to his apartment door before we start to kiss. And as soon as our drunken, sloppy make out session starts, I know that this is wrong and that I've got a boyfriend who will hate me, but the too many shots I've had today push that thought to the back of my mind, and Finnick's jacket off his shoulders.

Since I've been having a little too much time lately, I've decided to take up writing again. This is my take on the difficulty that are relationships in your 20s. Obviously the characters are a bit older than their book counterparts, so excuse the slight changes in personality. Gave this an M rating for adult themes, but there won't be any porn (think more Sex and the City than Fifty Shades).

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd love to hear your thoughts!