A/N This is a submission to Prompts in Panem (promptsinpanem on tumblr) for the visual prompt of An Empty Staircase, paired with a quote. Check out my tumblr (absnow) for other submissions from this week's challenge. Title from Adele's "One and Only."

Love is not enough. It must be the foundation, the cornerstone - but not the complete structure. It is much too pliable, too yielding.

-Bette Davis (1908 - 1989)

I Dare You to Let Me Be

There were too many boxes. They filled the kitchen and lined the narrow hallway. They even took up the space where the coffee table once was. There were more boxes than there were things in the apartment, so unless half of them were empty, the only logical explanation was that their belongings had been multiplying.

Finnick Odair sank onto the blue sofa with a bowl of cereal balanced in his hand. He flipped open the flaps on one of the cardboard boxes and fished out a clean spoon, polishing it on the leg of his sweat pants before scooping it into his breakfast. He had just kicked his feet up to rest on the edge of the makeshift coffee table when there was a knock at the door.

He contemplated between his cereal and answering, but the knock echoed again, an impatient rapping that only grew with intensity. Then he recalled what his roommate had told him. That under absolutely no circumstances was he to open that door.

He groaned, rolling his eyes at the dramatics. "Peeta," he called. "We have a visitor." Aligning his eye with the peephole, Finnick looked out into the hallway to identify their guest. Her short, spiky hair was wet from the rain that had been falling for the past three days, and the balled up flannel shirt in her hand was dripping onto her boots. She arched her eyebrow with a thin lipped smile, as if she could feel him peering at her through the door. "Jig's up Pete," Finnick said. "She'll beat the door down with an ax if she has to."

"Finnick open the door," Johanna said, unamused, and pounded her fist against it again.

"Peeta, I'm opening the door," he warned before flipping open the locks along the wall.

Without missing a beat, she pushed him roughly by the center of his chest as she passed through the entry way.

"Why didn't you tell me what happened?" she demanded.

"Because I don't really know myself," he said, struggling to hold onto his breakfast without spilling it.

Johanna quickly lost interest and began searching around the apartment. "Where is he? I have questions."

"Packing. I think."

"Packing?" she repeated, incredulous.

Finnick's move had been planned for some time now, hence the organized fleet of boxes. He and his fiancee, Annie, were getting married at the end of the month and had just closed on a house on the other side of town. There were still 8 weeks left on their lease and Peeta was still debating whether he'd look for another roommate or downsize to something more affordable for one person.

Last night, however, Peeta had abruptly decided that he was leaving town as soon as he could get his car packed. He'd been locked in his room ever since.

"Peeta?" Johanna called, twisting the handle to his bedroom. It didn't budge. "I'm coming in," she warned.

The locks on all the doors in the apartment were only for decoration. There was a small button on the edge of the knob that one simply had to press before twisting. When someone really wanted to be left alone, they'd form some sort of barricade. Which, as Johanna forced her shoulder against the door to push it open with much resistance, she realized Peeta had done.

Finnick added his weight and the mattress blocking the door toppled over. Peeta was in the far corner of his room, calmly rolling pairs of socks to tuck into his suitcase, which was open on top of his bare box spring. He had headphones in his ears, and the wire dangled down the front of his white tee shirt disappearing into his the pocket of his jeans where is iPod was.

He looked up at their presence and smiled at them pleasantly.

"Oh, hey," he said, as if everything were perfectly normal. He removed the ear bud from his left ear, but left the other one in place, his head bobbing along to the music they could only vaguely hear.

Johanna climbed over the mattress carefully while Finnick a stayed in the doorway.

"What's going on?" Johanna said, her eyebrows knotting together suspiciously. "What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing important," Peeta said, his shoulder lifting airily.

"Then why has Katniss Everdeen called me 10 times in the last 12 hours, adamant that you hate her?"

He pursed his lips, recognition dawning on his face. "Oh, that," he said, his voice still too casual.

"Yes, that," she intoned. She crossed his bedroom in two quick strides and snapped the lid of his suitcase closed. "Now we all know how eloquent snappy is, talking about her feelings, so as per usual, you've been designated the spokesperson for relaying your latest star-crossed drama."

With her hand still blocking his suitcase, Peeta turned to fill his backpack with the pile of books on his desk.

"I asked her to marry me," he said. "And she said 'no.'"

"Again?" Johanna said with a tired sigh.

"Again," he confirmed. "But she really meant it this time."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I really meant it when I asked her," he said, pulling on the tab of his zipper roughly so that the buzz filled the room. "I asked her to move in with me, and she thought that was too serious. And I told her of course it was serious because I wanted to marry her." He threw the bag across the room and it crashed against the wall before dropping to the floor with a thud.

Johanna Mason was never a compassionate person. Empathy was a waste of time to her, because she knew that the person would get over it eventually. But not Peeta. He felt too much, especially when it came to Katniss. She gently placed her hand on his back, and drew small circles with her thumb.

He leaned over his desk, his knuckles white as they gripped the back of his chair. It took him a moment to catch his breath, but when he did, he brushed her hand away and went back to packing.

"It's better this way," he decided, talking more to himself it seemed. "To wash our hands of the other instead of dragging out this back and forth game we've been playing."

"You always come back though," she said. "There has to be a reason for that."

"I haven't learned yet. That's my problem."

Johanna frowned and sat cross legged on the box spring beside his suit case.

"Where are you heading?" she asked.

"Eh, I'll figure it out when I get there."

"I see you've thought this out," she said wryly, rolling her eyes.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "If I had, I wouldn't be leaving."

"Then don't go," she exclaimed. "Stay here in Panem. We've grown quite fond of you for some odd reason."

"I wish I could," he sighed and closed the top of his suitcase.

"You can't escape her you know," Finnick said, leaning in the door frame. His cereal was still in hand and he slurped the milk from his spoon. "Leaving won't make you stop loving her."

"It will hurt less, maybe. For both of us."

"Any pain you cause her while you're here won't compare to what she'd feel if you were gone," Finnick said.

Peeta combed his fingers through his thick, blond curls and moved to his closet, where he began emptying his art supplies into a cardboard moving box.

"I think about it sometimes," he began to say. "What it would have been like if I never knew her. But I can't remember anymore." The chuckle he let out wasn't only sad, there was a bitterness behind it. "I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived for a few years while she loved me. What does that say about me?"

Johanna pushed off the box spring to stand on her feet. She placed her hands on her hips and positioned herself in front of him. "You two have always been too stubborn to talk any sense into," she said, then wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Have fun out there. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

"And what's that exactly?" Peeta said, holding her against him with strong arms.

"That's my boy," she smirked, and kissed him square on the mouth before releasing him.

After she had left, Finnick still remained in the doorway. He set his bowl on top of the emptied dresser and stepped over the mattress spread across the floor.

"I was thinking," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Maybe I should come with you. Two pals on the road to nowhere? In the past that was the basis for an entire culture."

"While I appreciate the offer, I think a certain someone may be quite livid if I were to steal you from them."

"Annie?" Finnick said, arching an eyebrow. "She'd get over it. She'd probably thank you for it, actually."

"No," Peeta shook his head. "I was talking about Johanna. She'd murder me for taking her beloved Finnick away."

Finnick bowed his head and grinned. "That's true. And nobody wants to be on the wrong end of Johanna Mason's temper."

Peeta wove the folds of the cardboard box so that the top was firmly closed. Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he carried the box in one hand and his suitcase in the other. They were the only possessions he had.

"So this is it," he said, approaching his roommate.

"Well that sounds ominous and final," Finnick said, his eyebrows knotting together with worry. "I'll see you at the wedding, yeah?"

Peeta pursed his lips, his eyes widening at the thought. "Right. That." He laughed nervously. In his quest to run away from Katniss Everdeen, he hadn't even thought about his best friends' wedding. "Of course I'll be there."

Finnick held his hand out and Peeta set his suitcase down so he could shake his hand, but quickly pulled him into a hug instead.

"She loves you, you know," Finnick said, patting him on the back. "She just has a very Katniss way of showing it."

"I know," Peeta said sadly.

"Be safe out there."

Peeta left his apartment key on the table beside the door, and began to make his way down the flights of stairs that led to the street. The corridor was dimly lit because the natural light from the windows was muted by the rain outside, and he could hear the thick, heavy drops of water pelting against the glass. The railing was a fancy, welded iron, but the steps were made of planks of unfinished wood, which were slippery beneath his slick boots.

He rounded the corner and paused when he saw the petite figure curled up at the bottom of the landing. The leather of her hunting jacket was a darker shade of brown from being soaked in the rain, and her hair was painted around her round face.

Their eyes locked from across the staircase, but neither one spoke. Peeta moved to three steps from the bottom then stopped.

Her eyes darted between the box and suitcase in his hands and then she looked at him quizzically.

"I didn't think you were leaving so soon," she said, the sound of her voice ringing loudly through the silence.

"Packing didn't take as long as I thought," he said, gesturing with his limited belongings. "I figured I'd take off now. The sooner the better, right?"

"I thought running away was my thing," she said, a smile quirking her lips before quickly fading and she looked away.

She tightened her jacket around her body, folding her arms over her chest to capture the heat. Her lips quivered, spelling out words she couldn't say out loud before forming into a deep scowl.

"I'm not going to ask you to stay," she finally said.

He adjusted the weight of the box so that it rested on the stair railing. "I wasn't asking you to," he said.

"I wish you weren't doing this because of me."

"I'm not," he said. He set the suitcase down to balance on the step beside him, then swiped his hand tiredly through his blond curls. "It's for me. You and I just need to be apart for a while."

Her eyes widened in terror at the thought, the silver flecks shimmering from the tears swelling around the brims.

"I can't do it, Peeta," she said.

He stepped to the bottom of the stairs and set down the rest of his things. Sinking to the ground, he crouched with his elbows resting on his thighs so that their eyes were level.

"Everything that I am in this life is for you, Katniss. What happens when you realize one day that you really don't need me? What happens to me them?"

"And what about me? What am I without you?"

He rolled forward on his toes, bracing his hands on the wall behind her to cage her between his arms. Her lips were cold and wet beneath his and she tasted like rain. She sighed, opening her mouth to him, and he pushed closer to her until the dampness from her jacket seeped into the fibers of his sweatshirt. Her teeth chattered from the cold, but she moved her mouth against his frantically, their lips sloppily joining in kiss after kiss.

He pulled away and she looked up, her eyes imploring his.

"Stay with me?" she said, her voice shaking.

He cupped her face in his palm, smoothing his thumb along her cheekbone.

"Always," he whispered. He sighed, tugging on the end of her wet braid before standing to collect his things.

She scrambled to her feet when he approached the door. "Wait. You're still leaving?"

"What is this between us?" he asked, feeling exasperated. Nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change. "What is it going to be?"

She cowered back to the wall, her eyes trained on the ground. "I don't know," she said.

"I can't do it anymore Katniss. I can't do maybe. This is it for me, okay?" He let his head fall back to knock against the door behind him.

She swallowed thickly, using the railing from the stairwell to keep her balance. It took her a moment to work up the nerve, but finally she lifted her gaze to look at him. She shook her head to shake away the tears that she refused to cry.

"Don't do anything foolish," she said.

"No. Last-resort stuff. Completely," he said, allowing himself to smile.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, but his hands were full now, and he couldn't return the embrace. Instead he buried his face into the crook of her neck, memorizing the scent of salty suede from her jacket and flowers from her shampoo. Flashes of every memory since the moment he first saw her played behind his eyelids up to the very second they stood here, with her arms around at the bottom of the stairs.

Then she let go, stepping away to allow for him to leave.

"All right then" she said.

And he nodded, pushing through the door to step into the rain without looking back.

"Fuck, I'm going to come." He tightened his grip on her hips. The skirt of her dress was bunched between their bodies and he pushed it further up her back to deepen his thrusts.

She gripped the railing in front of her, her polished nails digging into the soft wood."I'm almost there," she said tightly between breaths.

He groaned. He wasn't going to last much longer. Bracing one arm on the rail beside her, he slipped his fingers between her legs and pressed firmly against the swollen bundle of nerves, rubbing his fingers with tight, unforgiving ministrations. His chest was pressed against her back and he kissed her bare shoulder before moving to catch her earlobe between his teeth.

He could recognize the feeling of her walls clenching around him and he drew his other hand to her breast, which he freed from the neckline of her dress. Plying the small mound in his palm against the pebbled peak, she bit down on her hand to muffle her shouts. She molded against him. Stretching. Stretching. And then she went still.

She collapsed against the railing with a languid cry, her elbows buckling so that her body was hanging from the rail. He followed quickly after, spilling into her with a few more pushes.

He pulsed inside of her as he rode out his orgasm, his chest heaving to regain his breath.

"Jesus, Katniss," he sighed heavily into her neck.

She sat up on her elbows and looked at him over her shoulder with an arched brow. "Katniss?" He narrowed his eyes, unamused. "I'm impressed you remember my name."

He pulled out and debated using the sleeve of his rented tux to clean himself, but Katniss had already scooped up her purse to retrieve a package of tissues.

The lake, where Finnick and Annie were having their wedding reception, had a few empty boat houses along the dock slips. From where they were at the edge of the water, they could still hear the thumping bass beat from the white tent at the top of the hill.

"It's only been a few weeks," he chuckled, tucking himself back into his dress pants and fastening his belt.

"That's an endless string of one night stands," she said. She pulled her panties up from around her ankles and smoothed her skirt over her hips so that the hem hit the top of her knees and the lines they had wrinkled into it were no longer visible.

"Thirty, maybe," he said. He pulled his vest over his clean ivory shirt and adjusted the buttons at the cuffs.

"That's it?" she said, leaning her hip against the railing so that her back faced the water. She smiled at him slyly, in challenge.

He trapped her between his arms against the railing. "You really want to know that?" he asked, leaning in to nuzzle her neck with wet kisses. She pushed weakly against his chest to crane her neck so that her wide, gray eyes were looking into his. "There's no one else but you."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. She bowed her head for a brief moment before lifting her chin to regain her composure. "How was your trip?" she said evenly.

"Honestly?" he said, grinning sheepishly. Pushing off the rail he moved to the other side of the boat house. "I've been staying at my parents house, working at my dad's bakery."

They lived about thirty minutes outside of the city, a risky move since Katniss's mother lived the next neighborhood over, but Katniss rarely went home, and his path never crossed with Mrs Everdeen.

"Oh," Katniss said. "I didn't realize you were so close."

He combed his fingers through his hair, which was matted and disoriented from earlier. "I was planning to go out to Colorado, where my brother lives. I was waiting for the wedding though. In case Finnick needed me."

She folded her arms over her chest, her mouth curling into a scowl. "Are you still going?" she asked shortly, her eyes downcast towards the weathered plank floor.

"Maybe. I don't know."

"This is ridiculous," she huffed. "If you don't want to go, then don't. I'll leave you alone either way, if that's what you want."

"I thought I would get some clarity, you know?" he said, smiling sadly. "If I'm not going to work for my dad? What else is for me to do?" He sank to the floor, drawing his knees to his chest and leaning against the wall behind him.

"You're really good at baking," she said.

He nodded earnestly. "I know."

"What about art?" She approached him carefully, smoothing her palms nervously over her skirt before sitting beside him. "You could open that gallery you've always wanted."

"There's nothing very glamorous about a starving artist," he said, rolling his neck tiredly to look at her beneath the hood of his eyes.

"You wouldn't have to be starving."

"Katniss, I know you're blinded by your love for me, but my art isn't that spectacular," he said wryly.

She slapped his arm. "What I meant is that I'd hunt and you'd paint, and we'd make it work. Although you'd still have to bake for me. It's the least you could do if I'm going to support you."

"Katniss," he said, his tone warning.

"Peeta," she countered. "I've been doing some thinking. A lot, actually. And while I can't say yes yet, someday I will, and it will be to you."

His jaw slackened as he looked at her in awe. He couldn't deny her. Maybe he was wrong about needing to grow without her. Maybe they needed to grow together.

He took her hand into his and drew it to his lips.

"I can live with that." Draping his arm across her shoulder, he pulled her against his chest. He dropped his chin to rest onto of her head, smiling at the familiar flowery scent in her hair. "About this proposed arrangement," he said, lowering his hand to the dip of her waist to pinch her side playfully. "Shall we discuss my other qualifications for earning my keep?"

She tipped her head to kiss him. "You can show me."

Bonus Quote: "I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loves me" from the 1950 Humphrey Bogart film "In a Lonely Place"