Work Text:
So please...please...please...
Let me...get what I want...
Lord knows, it would be the first time.
The Smiths
For him, Christmas began the day he saw an ad for cheese.
Goats cheese to be precise.
He was eight years old when he heard it. In the break between some puppets singing a musical version of a Christmas story, it had stood out amongst all the other seasonal adverts for toys and TV shows. The shot panned across a wide expanse of mountain range, goats grazing the lush green fields scattered with vibrant dandelions. His eyes were immediately drawn to the dot of red in the distance, contrasting with the bright green surrounding it.
As the camera moved closer, he could make out the shape of a dress. Twirling around and around. Then two raven brown braids.
It was only as the girl stopped twirling, sat down on a checkered blanket surrounded by bread and cheese and picnic food, that she began to sing what would later be referred to as the ‘Valley song’.
And Peeta Mellark was a gonner.
xXx
For her, it began with an ad.
A goats cheese ad to be precise.
Katniss had been eight years old when she first entered the advertisement industry. Her father was a well renowned singer and jingle writer for many successful ad campaigns in the past, so it was only inevitable that she herself, with a silvery voice just as emotive as her father’s, would eventually enter that same world.
So when the Buttercup Valley Goats Cheese Company had asked him to write a song for their Christmas ad, her father had turned to her to sing it.
Nobody, except perhaps her father, had expected it to go so viral. It aired for years, far longer than any of her other ads that she voiced afterwards. Everyone had expected her, and her voice, to go far.
So had she.
But then her father died. Katniss was twelve at the time. The ad she had been in the middle of recording never got finished.
And she didn’t sing again.
xXx
Present day
It hadn’t worked. Something wasn’t working.
They had watched the initial recording, or what some in the advertising industry referred to as propos, three times now. And it still felt the same.
Dull. Lifeless. Flat.
This was supposed to be Peeta’s big break in the song writing industry. On the success of this advert, he could branch out to write proper songs, for chart topping artists. He could finally get to where he had strived to be all these years. For months he had worked at District 13, one of the top advertising firms in the country, pushing papers and getting coffees endlessly, waiting for his big break.
And then it had happened. A famous department store, with years of successful Christmas adverts behind it, had hired the firm to come up with that year’s successful campaign. Upon hearing the idea for the advert, Peeta had practically begged Plutarch, artistic director, to listen to the song he had devised overnight. And before the last ending chord had reverberated out around the room, Plutarch had decided. Peeta’s song would work well with the ad.
Only it wasn’t working. Something wasn’t right. It was no fault of the actors, of that Peeta was certain. Finnick and Annie had been in the business for years, and as a real life couple, could pull off the doting married pair with ease. And having their son Aiden play their son in the ad turned out to be a stroke of genius. At seven years old, that boy could act.
He was fairly certain it wasn’t the lyrics to his song letting him down.
So what was it?
“OK...I think we can all agree that was pretty dire.” The deep drawl of Haymitch’s voice cut through the frustrated silence. “So what’s the issue here?”
Several faces rubbed chins and exhaled heavily in thought before the arguments began.
“It’s got to be that Odair kid. He’s too inexperienced.”
“Are you nuts? He’s the best thing we got.”
“I think it’s weak scriptwork – ”
“God Cressida are you an idiot or what?”
The voices of Plutarch Heavensby and the production team came to a crescendo around him before Haymitch took control.
“Enough! We’ll be here all night.” He ran his hand through his hair in annoyance. “Look – let’s think about this. Everyone think about your favourite or most memorable advert you’ve ever seen.”
One by one, the people around the table began divulging a wide variety of adverts over the years. Some Peeta had never heard of. Others, more recent, he nodded in approval to.
“Peeta? What about you?”
He didn’t need a moment to think about his answer. The Goats Valley Cheese advert had left his lips before Haymitch had barely finished his question.
“Right...so what do these all have in common?”
What did cheese, nappies, cola and an ad for medical insurance have in common? Peeta had no idea.
It seemed everyone had drawn similar blanks.
“Come on! What made them memorable to you?”
Cressida, a still rather new woman in the industry, but cutthroat and ruthless nevertheless, was the first to answer. “Well, for me...cola ads always make me cry.”
One of the young interns spoke next. “That insurance ad was one of the funniest ads I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.”
Soon, it became clear from the many answers given, that the problem wasn’t the lyrics. It wasn’t the acting. It was something far less easy to fix.
The ad didn’t feel real.
Peeta had written an emotive song, intending to bring out the feeling of the overall story being told, but the person they had chosen to sing it just hadn’t pulled it off. The voice wasn’t terrible. It just wasn’t good. There was no feeling to it whatsoever. Haymitch may as well have sung it.
At the end of the meeting, Peeta knew what was needed, or rather who was needed, in order for the ad to work. Haymitch had laughed in his face when he conveyed his plan. Being a friend of her late father’s, he had mentored her when she first entered the industry so many years ago. Stubborn as a mule, that girl would never be convinced, he had said. He gave Peeta the details of where to find her all the same.
And Plutarch gave him two weeks to convince her.
xXx
“What’s the matter love? Run out of goats cheese?”
Every night. Every night it was the same. A few drinks in, and the idiots came out of the woodwork it seemed. This one pudgier and redder faced than most. He was obviously too full of the Christmas cheer. It was times like this that Katniss wondered why she continued to work in a bar, surrounding herself with these fools.
“Aw, cheer up love. I know what will put a smile on yer face.”
So did she. But it was most definitely not what he was thinking. Her idea was far more violent, of that she was certain. He was right though, the thought almost did put a smile on her face.
“How about you give us a sing song? Come on, join in, I’m sure you know the lyrics...”
Her hand twitched by her side. If he sang one word of that bloody jingle...
“Deep in the valley be-looooow – ARGH WHAT THE HELL; YOU BITCH!”
The guy was so drunk, it took him almost the whole first line of the Valley song before he realised she had been spraying him with the soda hose. He was lucky that was all she did. Watching him stumble about stupidly, she could almost feel sorry for him, if she didn’t hate this time of year so much.
Christmas. The time of year she would have that bloody Goats Cheese song sung at her the most. The time of year everyone was drunk, and nobody seemed to leave her be.
The time of year she lost her father.
xXx
The bar had mostly emptied before she actually noticed him. He had been sitting in a booth in the corner by himself for the best part of an hour, nursing the same beer she had served him when he entered. Periodically he had glanced at whatever painfully bad singer had picked up the microphone at the Karaoke machine to sing.
She hadn’t noticed him until that point, mostly because she had been kept busy serving and collecting empty glasses. Now, she found herself cleaning down the bar and absentmindedly staring into space before she realised that same space was filled with the blond haired man in the booth. He seemed innocent enough, but something about his presence had her scowling.
Deciding he had loitered for too long, she left the bar to approach him.
“Can I get you another drink?” He had visibly started when she had spoken, and turned his impossibly blue eyes to her like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t. She watched a blush quickly rise to his cheeks as he struggled to respond. “Same again?”
He simply nodded at her, so she turned to return to the bar, before his voice stopped her. “Wait!”
Katniss simply stared at him.
“Er...what’s your name?” She watched as he flinched at her suddenly piercing scowl.
“Why do you want to know my name? What are you, some kind of creep?”
“Wha – NO! God, no, I – sorry, I just thought I know you from somewhere is all...”
Brilliant. Just brilliant. This would be some kind of record surely? Usually she only needed to sort out one stupid drunk for hassling her over that bloody advert, and the rest would leave her alone for the evening. This guy was seriously pushing his luck if he thought –
“Didn’t you used to work at a bar over on third avenue?”
Oh. OH. So he KNEW her knew her. She could feel her blood pressure lower, and her frown slip somewhat at his question. “I did.”
“Thought so. That’s my friend’s local. Weren’t you working there a couple of weeks ago?”
Katniss felt her cheeks flush at the memory of her dismissal from Snow’s bar. “Yeah. Apparently punching a customer in the face for pinching my ass was not conducive to maintaining a career there.”
“Oh...I’m sorry.” The man looked rather contrite in his reply.
Katniss simply shrugged. “Don’t be. It was worth it. Sae’s bar is a much nicer place to work anyway.”
The screeching melody to ‘I’m every woman’ assaulted their ears at that moment, and had Katniss rolling her eyes. “Sorry for the...entertainment.”
“That’s OK. I’ll rip your ears off, if you promise to rip off mine.” The blond haired man’s comment had a rare soft smile grace her face. The feeling was odd, yet familiar. Strangely, the blond seemed almost proud to see it. “I’m Peeta. Sorry, I feel I should introduce myself, seeing as though I’ve made you smile for what I think might be the first time all night.”
Katniss’s surprise was evident. His statement hung heavy with implications. He had noticed her enough to realise that. “Have you been watching me or something?”
Once again, a red flush filled his cheeks in a way Katniss began to feel was rather endearing.
“Er...well, yeah. Sorry. You’re, uh...just really pretty.”
Now it was Katniss’ turn to blush. Another screech from the woman at the microphone brought her back to herself.
“I think I’m going to have to break that machine again.”
“Well, I can hardly judge. Cats have committed suicide to my voice.” Once again, Katniss had to bite back a smile, slightly unsuccessfully. “Can you sing?”
His question nearly threw her, and had her looking away from him. “No. Let me get you your drink.”
“But you have a beautiful voice.” The words had her stop in her tracks. Her knuckles had turned white from where she clutched at the dishcloth in her hand. The look on his face when she had spun back around told her he knew his mistake.
“So you ARE just another one of those bastards huh? You think it’s funny coming in here? Do you all wake up in the morning and think ‘I know, that girl at Sae’s did an advert fifteen years ago...let’s all go and have a joke with her about it. I bet no one else ever has...she’ll love it!”
“Wai-that’s not – ”
“ Or maybe you’re some sick fuck of a glory hunter, who thinks they have a right to bother me at work because ONCE UPON A TIME I was in an advert? Is that it?!”
“No...look Katniss I’m – ”
“WHO SAID YOU COULD USE MY NAME?!” Peeta looked contrite at her words. Strangely though, he wasn’t running for the hills like so many had before. “Just get out.”
She had reached the bar before she realised he had followed her. Slightly strange, considering the fact that she could hear how loud his tread was on the dark wood flooring of the bar.
“Look Katniss, I’m sorry.” He held his hands up in a placating gesture as she raised the soda spray towards him. “ I’m not one of those guys, I swear. But you’re right, I haven’t been honest about why I’m here.” She could do nothing except watch him. She wanted him out.
“I’m from District 13. We’re doing an ad for John Lewis, but the song...well, my song actually...I, er...wrote it.” He ran his hands through his hair nervously. “Well, the singer’s all wrong. It’s supposed to be emotional and it’s just not. And I’m here because... I want you to sing my song.”
He seemed to have a look on his face like he had delivered some amazing news. Katniss simply stared. After an unnerving few moments, Peeta spoke again.
“So...what do you think? It would be a great way to get back in the business.”
Katniss knew he expected her to be gushing and overjoyed at his news. She knew he didn’t have a clue about her. If he did, he wouldn’t be here even bothering to try. She took a rather sadistic thrill watching his mouth fall open at her next words.
“Get out.”
xXx
He was back.
Katniss had largely ignored his comments the night before. When he realised she had left the singing business willingly, he had tried to bargain with her before she cut him short, refusing point blank to help him. As he left, he had assured her that he would not give up until she agreed to sing his song.
She had thought he was full of crap.
But there he was, sitting back in the same booth she first noticed him in the night before. And he had been there since the bar had opened, her boss Sae had informed her.
Katniss had refused to serve him at first, instead relying on Sae to work the tables while she prepared the drinks from the bar. But even she knew as the clock ticked on and Peeta remained in his place in the booth, that she would need to serve him eventually. Sae’s shift ended at 5.
She had geared herself up to be as cold to him as possible. She was furious he was even still trying with her. Furious he hadn’t got the message largely, but also annoyed that her usual cold and threatening nature had not worked on him.
It confused her.
She watched him in her quiet moments, and he had mostly kept to himself, focusing on something on the table beneath his hands. She had tried to ignore him as long as possible, and to her surprise he had not tried to stop her once. Burt the time came that she had to walk over to him and take his drinks order, and when she did, he had barely lifted his head from what she realised was a sketch of an old man slumped over the bar. Her surprise at his artistic talent had her staring silently too long at his hands as they moved across the paper, followed by the intense look on his face as his eyes darted from the man then back to the creamy parchment. It was that movement that allowed her to notice just how long his blond eyelashes were; impossibly long, she had thought. She wondered how they didn’t get tangled together every time he blinked.
It was only after he lifted his eyes to her that she realised he had caught her staring. He had told her his drink order minutes ago, and somehow she had been immobilized by this man. She felt the heat rising up her neck as she turned on her heel and dashed back to the bar.
She did not speak to him again that night.
xXx
He had been there every day. On day three, she had become so used to his presence in the booth, she had almost forgotten why he was there in the first place. Upon walking past collecting empty glasses, his drawing had caught her eye. The familiar detail of a dark braid and silver eyes had taken her aback. For the first time since he had been there, he was drawing her.
Once again he caught her staring, and once again she exited swiftly, this time with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, and something she couldn’t put her finger on.
xXx
He must have overheard her talking to Sae one day about getting her favourite cheese buns back on the menu, because the next morning she came in for her shift to find a box on the counter with her name on, and Mellarks Bakery in printed script on the box. Opening it, her senses were hit with the delectable smell of cheese and rosemary.
And despite the annoyed huff she gave in that moment, he must have noticed the small smile that betrayed her, because a box appeared every morning on her counter from then on.
xXx
On day six, she became so annoyed by him being there that she decided enough was enough. She had allowed her temper to guide her legs over to his table, and slammed her hand down over his drawing.
“Oh...hello Katniss.” The smile on his face irked her. It was as if he thought he affected her in some way. Well, he didn’t.
“Don’t hello me. Why do you bother coming here? There’s plenty of bars in this neighbourhood, and with far better food.”
“Actually, I quite like the in your face service. Makes the artery-clogging fries go down much better.”
He wasn’t getting it.
“Look...you could waste your life waiting for me to change my mind. But I won’t. So save yourself the bother, and give up.”
“Oh I think you will change your mind.” He had a wicked gleam in his eye. “I can be very ...persuasive,” and he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Urgh! Are you actually being paid to sit here harassing women?!”
“Well, yeah, actually. The payment part I mean. If anyone’s harassing anyone at the moment, I think it kinda would be you.” He dared to give her...HER...a wink! “I mean, I am a paying customer, minding my own business after all...” Her rage had nearly hit breaking point. “Tell you what, you can make it up to me by taking a seat, and keeping me company for a few minutes. Unless that bar needs a seventh wipe down of course.”
“You are so...urgh!”
She caught him smile to himself as she stormed off.
xXx
Thursday night was Karaoke night, and marked a week of Peeta’s visits. Katniss had spent half the walking journey into work just picturing how she could get the upper hand over her new blond adversary, with his stupid sky blue eyes and his stupid dimple on his stupid handsome face. The problem was, he was too good with words.
No wonder he was one of those bloody song writers.
His responses were the most surprising. Where she showed him aggression, he responded with humour. When she flared, he was patient. She had soon realised that getting one over on him would have to involve her changing the habit of a lifetime.
She was going to have to be likeable.
Urgh. The thought disgusted her. But she still felt a confidence that her new strategy would gain a victory for her.
So she decided to attribute the disappointed feeling she felt when she entered the bar for her shift that morning, only to find Peeta was nowhere in sight, down to that. It certainly couldn’t be any other reason.
Good. He finally gave up then. Huh.
But her victory was short lived. Just as the in-house DJ had finished setting up for the night, Peeta had walked casually over to her where she was serving a table. Her surprise to see him almost had her smile.
“Can I convince you to sing karaoke at least, if not my song? It’s only karaoke after all.” Katniss had simply shaken her head, still slightly dumbfounded that he was here again, talking to her. “OK then. I guess you leave me no choice.”
Her silver eyes had followed him across the room to where he spoke briefly to the DJ and handed him a slip of paper. She had briefly thought he was trying to trap her into singing, but no. It was far worse.
He got behind the microphone to sing himself.
“Er...hi everyone. I think I should apologise in advance for what I am about to subject you to. But there’s a lady in here that I’d like to dedicate this song to, I’m kinda hoping this will show her the lengths I will go to to get what I want for Christmas.” A few lewd cheers rose up from a rowdy group of men at the far end of the room at his comment, making Peeta grin. “Er,well, here goes. Sorry again.”
“She can kill with a smile,
She can wound with her eyes...”
He was singing Billy Joel. Badly.
When Peeta had told her how bad he sang, he really hadn’t lied. Katniss thought she could hear cats in the alley committing suicide.
“..she never gives in...”
And yet, something about it was warm, almost watchable. Katniss couldn’t look away.
Peeta had been looking at no-one else the whole performance.
“But she’s always a woman to me...”
Despite his off key more than on key style of singing, Peeta’s charm had the bar riotous in its applause nonetheless. He had refused to look elsewhere except at her, and had smiled widely at the beginning of a genuine smile on her face.
He thought he had done it. He thought he had convinced her.
Until her right hand reached up to the wall, setting off the fire alarm and the sprinkler system.
Within a minute, the bar had emptied, leaving Katniss shrugging at a slightly shocked Peeta as she turned and left.
xXx
He walked her home after work two nights later. Katniss had tried to stop him, but after a fight had broken out in the bar, she could see he was visibly concerned and refused to take no for an answer. Truth be told, she was surprised at how quickly he reacted to the man that had nearly hit her in the face when she had tried to break them up. Not that she couldn’t handle her own, she had been in worse situations before.
But there was something about Peeta’s fury at the men as he pinned one of them down and practically threw him out of the bar. Something about his genuine concern for her afterwards made her many protests die on her tongue.
I’ll be in my usual booth for when you’re ready to leave, he had said. He hadn’t minded when she had told him she was there until closing; he simply ordered one more beer and settled in for the last couple of hours.
Now there they were, walking slowly through her neighbourhood, enjoying the surprisingly easy conversation they had stumbled into.
“No I wasn’t!”
“Yes, you were! Honestly Katniss, after I saw that ad, well, it probably is still the best Christmas I’ve ever had. ”
“Well, then you must not have very high standards there.” He had lost some of the sparkle at her words.
“You could say that.”
She wasn’t sure she should ask, but something told her she needed to. “What are your Christmasses like?”
“Now? Oh, I see some of my brothers here and there, when it’s convenient. I always see my dad of course.” She watched his lips turn up at that thought.
“And...your mum?”
She didn’t look at him, but heard his long sigh. “No, not my mum. We, er...haven’t spoken in a long time. You could say, she was a big reason as to why Christmasses weren’t very big experiences at our house when I was younger.”
“IS that why you don’t do art?” He looked a little shocked at her words. “You just look like it’s something you have a real passion and talent for. I was wondering why you wouldn’t have taken that career path.”
“Yeah, you could say my mum had a hand in that too. A reputation to uphold and all that.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.
“I’m sorry to ask.”
“No, it’s OK. I didn’t want you to feel bad. I just wanted you to know, your voice has brought joy to a lot of people, whether you believe it or not. It’s why I wanted you to sing my song. I couldn’t have anyone else do it.” She felt his sideways gaze on her, could almost hear the as yet unspoken question. “Why, uh...why did you stop singing?”
Peeta had almost given up on her answering when she spoke. “My dad. He was the reason I sang in the first place. When he died, a single note would bring so much pain, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I think it reminded me too much of him, or rather of the fact I no longer had him in my life, you know?”
“Have you ever tried it again since?”
“No. I don’t think it would hurt so much..I’m just stubborn I guess. It was something I shared with him, I grew resentful of having to share it again. Stupid I know.”
“It’s not stupid. I just wonder... never mind.”
“What?”
“I just wonder if your dad would have wanted that.” He glanced at her to gage her reaction, but Katniss gave nothing away. “I mean, it sounded like he loved your voice, and encouraged you to do well. I just wonder if he would want you to stop because of him. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Katniss listened to the snow crunching beneath their feet for a few minutes while she contemplated his words. She didn’t want to admit it, but Peeta had voiced something she had been thinking for a few years. More so on how she was living here life in general, surviving day to day, but not actually living it. Perhaps she needed to change. For him.
Peeta was clearly surprised with where she steered the conversation.
“What’s your advert about then?”
xXx
“Ok...let me see it then.” Peeta began to move over to the piano. “No, don’t play it, show me the words and basic chords. You don’t see a film before reading the book do you? Geez.” She watching as he rifled through his bag, before pulling out a sheet of paper and handing it to her. It was obviously his own copy; words were scrawled underneath faint notes scratched quickly on staves above. Some had been crossed out, some she could see the traces of pencil rubbed out from where he had made corrections. It took her back nearly two decades, to her own father’s handiwork at creating his jingles. Occasionally, she would play the piano while he sang.
Katniss had to cough to clear the lump in her throat. “Right...OK. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
After sitting at the keys, she took a closer look at the music in front of her. The words were beautiful, and definitely resonated with her. But the pace of the melody seemed a little complicated in comparison. It had noted that it would be played with a guitar, which she thought could work. But for now, she would have to play the basic chords while she sung the melody.
She could see the story Peeta had described play out with the lyrics in front of her. The little boy, impatient for Christmas to arrive, upsetting his parents at his impatience to get his gifts, before finding out he actually couldn’t wait to give them their gift. The idea, and the song, was heartwarming.
This ad would be a hit alright.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to forget about the fact that no one had heard her voice in years, played four bars as an introduction, and began to sing.
“Good times...for a change...”
She had tried not to think about her father, but the song somehow brought all the pain and mourning that had festered within her and manifested within the resonances of the notes leaving her voice.
“Haven’t had a dream...in a long time...”
The song was everything she had wanted to say to the powers that be. To her it meant unfairness, it meant hidden hope, it meant goodbye to someone she loved.
She had reached the end of the song before she felt the tears that had made their way down her face. Wiping them away desperately with the back of her hand, she turned to find Peeta staring at her, the strangest look on his face.
“I’ll do it” she whispered. He heard her all the same, and gave her a small smile. “This way, at least you won’t need to keep coming in the bar now, right?”
She watched his smile falter, and he gained a strange look in his eyes suddenly. “Er...right. Right.” If she didn’t know he wanted her to do this so much, she would almost think he was disappointed. But he couldn’t be.
After all, he’d got exactly what he wanted.
xXx
Katniss had felt strange entering District 13 for the first time since her father died. She had asked Peeta to make sure she didn’t have to run into anyone, so he had arranged a private recording studio with only young, fresh-faced sound men to record her. Of course, that did not prevent Haymitch from coming in anyway. Despite his less than friendly bedside manner, she had been rather pleased to see him after all that time.
Peeta had not been at the recording. Katniss could not work out why. It didn’t seem to make sense to her. She couldn’t help but feel that now that he had got his way, he no longer needed to see her again.
xXx
She had almost let herself forget why he truly kept coming back. It wasn’t for her though. It was for her voice. She had to remind herself he wasn’t interested in her in that way. Why would he be?
It was almost a week since she had seen him at her house. They hadn’t spoken since. It was exactly as she had expected.
So why did her chest feel so constricted all the time?
He kept entering her thoughts as well. A week before Christmas, she thought she saw him sitting in his usual booth, and had not even tried to hide her smile as she walked over. And then the man had turned around, and she could see clearly that he was twenty years too old. His shade of blond was all wrong anyway.
Yup. She was doomed. Nice people had a way of working themselves into her soul and staying there. This one had worked his way into her heart.
A few days before Christmas, she happened to walk past an art supplies store and noticed the small watercolour set on offer in the window. She hadn’t thought twice about going in and buying it for him. He had, for a short while, made her life feel less lonely since her father had passed, and since her sister had moved across the country to study. He had believed in her, and she wanted to thank him for it.
So she had asked the woman behind the counter to wrap it for her, and place her message on it. Katniss had sent it to him at District 13 that same afternoon.
The smile she wore had been sad but genuine.
xXx
The bolt had been put in place minutes after the last customer left. Thankfully, on Christmas Eve, Sae closed the bar at a very manageable hour of 10pm, so her employees could go home and spend a little bit of time with their families.
Not that Katniss had anyone she was returning home to.
She took her time cleaning up the bar. It had, however, been a slow night, so there was actually very little she had left to do. After wiping down the same table for a third time, she decided it was probably less pathetic to just return to an empty flat, than to procrastinate at her dead end job any further.
A soft knock on the door made her jump. Even as she turned to look at the figure that was standing on the other side, she had her path to the gun under the counter all planned out.
Only she wouldn’t need it. It was Peeta standing on the other side.
Slowly and cautiously, she approached the door and reached up to slide the bolt across. Her hands shook as she moved the cold metal across. She left the chain on when she opened the door.
“We’re closed I’m afra – ”
“I need to talk to you. Will you let me in?” His usual relaxed demeanour had been replaced with a nervous edge. Not having a clue what he could want, she shut the door to unhook the chain, before opening wide enough to let him in. The click of the bolt slid back in place after him, keeping any other unwanted customers out.
Katniss stood awkwardly, waiting for him to speak. He was running his hand through his hair, which for once had not been styled as she usually saw it, but instead was in more natural curls falling across his forehead. She wanted to brush the stray curl she could see out of his eyes.
“I got this yesterday.” Only then did she notice the parcel he held in his other hand...her gift to him, note still attached.
I hope you get what you want for once Peeta. From Katniss.
“Why did you send it?” His question confused her.
“Why did I send it? I saw it, and I thought of you, so I bought it. If you don’t want it, it’s fine, you don’t have to – ”
“I thought you didn’t want anything more to do with me.” She had been trying to avoid his piercing eyes until then, but his comment confused her. Hadn’t he made it clear he wasn’t interested in her? It was all business, wasn’t it?
“I never said that – ”
“You agreed to singing the ad so that I wouldn’t need to come to the bar again.”
“Yes, that you wouldn’t need to. But that doesn’t mean...” She stopped what she was about to say. Why was he here?
He had stepped closer to her, too close. She could barely breathe. “Doesn’t mean what?” Her new found silence had him continue. “Why did you get me the gift Katniss?”
She wanted to be truthful to this boy. Someone for once in his life deserved to tell him something he deserved. “Because I think you’re a talented songwriter, but...I don’t think it’s what you really want to do. I think your passion lies in art.” She chanced looking at him, really looked at him then. “And I think you are really talented at it. I think you should be whatever you want to be, not just what others expect you to be. So if you want to be an artist...you should go for it.”
He had looked at her intently then, taking in her words. “You said you hoped I got what I wanted. Did you mean it?”
“Of course. I – I think you deserve to get whatever you want Peeta.” He had stepped impossibly closer to her, until she could feel his breath tickling her cheek.
“The thing is...” he reached to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and left his fingertips barely touching her neck. “I want you.”
His hand had drawn her to him then, and as their lips touched, she could feel warmth and heat radiate through her, and everything a Christmas should be behind their kiss. All too soon he pulled away, and looked at her as if to wait for her reaction.
“Can I have you?”
In answer, she pulled his lips back down to hers.
The kiss was deeper this time; hands tangled in hair, bodies locked. Her legs had somehow found their way around his hips. She had found herself pinned against the table at Peeta’s booth before she even realised they had moved.
“What do you want Katniss?” He had stammered between kisses.
“You. I want you.”
He had looked at her with reverence then, but their kissing had left her with a hunger that only he could satiate. So she fumbled at the hemline of his Christmas jumper, and guided his hands to the buttons of her work blouse. Feeling his flesh on her flesh for the first time had her moaning into his mouth. She might have been self conscious about him seeing her in just her bra, if she wasn’t so intent on feeling every inch of him with her hands.
Peeta kissed his way down her neck, and practically growled when she reached behind her to remove her bra. He had latched onto one nipple with his mouth, and her hand instantly moved to the back of his head to keep him there. She could feel his smile on her skin.
“Please Peeta...I need...” More. She needed more. Her body was on fire with want. He seemed to sense what it was that she wanted, because his hands moved to unfasten her jeans, before his hips moved away to remove them fully. She moaned at the loss of contact.
Slowly, his eyes moved down her near naked body. “You’re so perfect Katniss.” He let his hands roam her like a painting, or a fine sculpture. It made her feel self conscious again, but she suddenly no longer wanted to feel that way for this man. She wanted to give him her everything.
But then he had knelt down in front of her, and she could see what he was intending to do for her, and it was all overwhelming and awkward again. Peeta had noticed her sudden stillness at his touch, and had looked at her with such longing, she had felt a jolt right to her core.
“Please...let me?” He was looking at her with those blue eyes she couldn’t seem to refuse. Knew she would rarely be able to refuse. At her nod, she could feel him pull her panties aside.
The first touch of his tongue against her had her back arching off the table, and an embarrassingly loud noise to leave her lips. His strong arm simply held her hips down as he continued to stroke at her with his tongue. The climb for Katniss was slow, until she felt him hum against her, and then all too soon she was close to losing it. Somewhere in the recesses of her brain, she realised he was humming that damn Billy Joel tune, but she was too tightly wound to care.
“Oh God...Peeta..I’m...”
When her orgasm hit her, he made her sing his name.
He had come back up from where he had been kneeling, and began to kiss her tenderly as she came down from her high. But it wasn’t enough for her.
“Peeta...please...please...” As she spoke, she reached for his belt buckle. She could hear his breaths come fast and hard as they both realised what was about to happen. What she now knew would have happened anyway. Because it was Peeta; he was everything good and kind and he made her happy; only one other man had ever made her feel so happy at Christmas.
He had grabbed at his wallet before she fully removed his trousers, had ripped open the foil parcel and placed it on himself before she had fully removed her panties.
“Are you sure? We don’t have to –” But Katniss had begun to shake her head at his words.
“No. I want to. It’s what I want.”
For the first time in years, she got exactly what she wanted. As he entered her and began to move, she felt euphoric. Waves of pleasure hit her as he increased his pace.
“Oh God, Katniss...you’re so...”
She swallowed his words with a kiss, their moans mingling together with their tongues. Katniss wanted more, so she wrapped her legs around him, guiding him to go faster. His hips began to plough her into the table then, as his hands guided hers over her head to be pinned above her. All too soon, she could feel the familiar build up again at her centre.
“Katniss...I’m gonna...ungh!” She felt him pulse inside her as he came, so she reached down to rub above where they were joined, until she arched into him and followed him over the edge.
xXx
They had laid there for a long time, basking in the afterglow. Katniss had begun to be lulled to sleep with the way his hand stroked her loose hair. The deep vibrations of his voice where she rested her face on his chest brought her back from near slumber.
“I wrote that song for you long before I even knew it was for you. I thought I was a gonner years ago, but nothing prepared me for the feeling I got when you first scowled at me. You don’t know the effect you can have.”
He caressed her face, and nuzzled her nose. Katniss saw the disbelief in his eyes, the childish glee that most lost in their teenage years, and knew she would do anything to keep that look in them. For the first time in a long time, she had been given everything she never knew she wanted. And Peeta had done that for her.
This Christmas, it was good times... for a change.