Summary: Life is complicated, even for two people who love each other as much as Katniss and Peeta do. But when things become too much, sometimes you have to cut your engine, drop anchor and find your way back to each other again.
Rated M: Mature
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Find below the excerpt to this years MoreS2SL contribution, for @loveinpanem.
He returned to his line, tying the lead and hook. She took his moment of distraction to admire him - the broad set of his shoulders and chest, straining under the t-shirt emblazoned with the local surf shop, his swim shorts which lay just above the knee, masking strong, defined thighs. She set her pole aside and knelt between his thighs. “I mean it. I was just thinking how much I missed being alone with you, without a deadline or something else in the way. It’s been months since we’ve had any peace.”
Peeta reached out to run a hand along her braid, flicking the tip with his thumb. “We should get away more often. We’re always at our best when we’re on our own.”
Katniss nodded, reaching up to lace her fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck. She pulled him down, capturing his bottom lip in hers, licking the delicate skin before deepening the kiss. Heat spread through her, a prickly warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. The fingers of her other hand crept over his thigh, skittering under the hem of his shorts to trace circles on the skin beneath. His hard muscles twitched in time with their kiss. When she pulled back, she ached from the distance.
And for the first time, I understand what he means. I want to do something, right here, right now, to shame them, to make them accountable, to show the Capitol that whatever they do or force us to do there is a part of every tribute they can’t own.
Someday I’ll explain it to you, why they came, why they won’t ever go away. But I’ll tell you how I survive it. I make a list in my head, of all the good things I’ve seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It’s like a game. I do it over and over. Gets a little tedious after all these years, but… there are much worse games to play.
“Good night,” I whisper to the bow in my hand and feel it go still. I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta’s eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock. “Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp.
It’s only now that he’s been corrupted that I can fully appreciate the real Peeta. Even more than I would’ve if he’d died. The kindness, the steadiness, the warmth that had an unexpected heat behind it.