Chapter Text
“Katniss! Katniss!”
She hears him calling her name repeatedly, but she doesn’t stop. She keeps running…running away like a small child having a tantrum.
She’s looking for a tree to climb‒she doubts Peeta’s much of a tree-climber, or that the average tree could easily support his burly frame‒but they’re scarce in this countryside. Katniss stops a moment, since she has a bit of distance on her pursuer, to get her bearings. Nothing. Nothing but hills and water as far as the eye can see, at least until the mountains off in the distance. Perhaps she can make it there and slip into a craggy alcove, or maybe there are volcanoes here and she can throw herself in. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic. Maybe she’ll just jump into the lake and swim across to the little island she sees out in the middle‒she recalls Peeta telling her in one of their conversations that he doesn’t know how to swim.
“I’m going to teach you one of these days,” she’d promised. Now, she’s glad she didn’t.
She hears her name again, and she can sense he’s getting closer. She knows she should probably face him, and the music, but she can’t right now, so she takes off again. Not five strides later, she’s stumbling over a gigantic, mossy rock and dropping to her knees in pain.
“Katniss!” he calls out to her again, but she barely hears him over the ringing in her ears.
Katniss drops onto her side, grasping at her throbbing ankle and wincing, her vision blurring slightly. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out, she internally pleas. That would be extremely embarrassing...
Almost as embarrassing as nearly choking to death in front of him...
Squeezing her eyes shut and taking a few, slow breaths, Katniss manages to stay conscious. When she opens her eyes again, she’s staring into a pair of bright blue, very concerned ones.
Peeta is at her side on his knees, despite them being bare. “Katniss, leannan. Ye alright?”
Katniss closes her eyes a moment and nods. Peeta tenderly touches her swollen ankle; he puts the faintest bit of pressure on it with his thumb, and she winces.
“I’m sorry, lass.”
“It’s okay,” she grits out. He continues inspecting it, more gently.
Katniss then notices one of those highland cows staring at her. What are you looking at? she thinks at it, giving it her most intimidating stare. The cow seems to get the point, and it dips its shaggy head, turns away, and wanders off to eat some grass.
“This i’nt me area of expertise, lass. I best get ye home to yer mother.” And with that, he’s slipping a hand beneath her thighs and an arm around her back and lifting her up.
“Peeta, you don’t have to‒” she starts to protest, but one look from him cuts her off.
And then he’s carrying her bridal style back toward Haymitch’s.
“You really don’t have to do this,” she begins again after a few moments of tense silence.
“Oh, I think I do, lass. Can’t verra well have ye hobblin’ back to the house on yer own. And besides, 'tis my fault yer injured.”
“It’s not your fault. If I hadn’t…”
“I upset ye. And I’m verra sorry for that, lass.”
“But I shouldn’t have run off…” She thins her lips, then mutters, “I feel like an idiot.”
“Nae, lass. Yer not. It’s me. I’m the idiot. I been a real diddy.”
“A what?” The corners of her lips twitch.
“A spineless idiot.”
Katniss smirks.
“‘Tis also the term for a female’s…” Peeta hesitates, then clears his throat and says, “Breasts.”
Katniss looks up at him; there's a pink hue to his cheeks. Although she has to stifle a laugh, she’s sure she’s blushing, too.
“But don’t ye worry none about it, lass. Jus’ try an’ relax a wee bit till I get ye home.”
“Okay.”
“Might wanna hold on a bit tighter, leannan,” he says, hiking her up. His hands are so large that the one around her waist brushes against the side of her breast. She doesn’t mind it, not at all. “Don’t want ye to tumble out of me arms.”
Katniss glances up to catch Peeta going bright red, and she smiles a little to herself. Gladly complying, she winds her arms tighter around his neck and nestles in against his broad chest. He’s still sweaty from the game, additionally, from chasing after her, but he doesn’t smell bad; rather, he has a kind of manly, rugged scent going on, along with his usual one of baked goods and freshly fallen rain.
Peeta gets her back to Haymitch’s and up to her bedroom, and her mother has a look at her ankle. Peeta wants to call the doctor, but her mother tells him it’s not broken, just sprained. She elevates Katniss’s leg and puts an ice pack on it, and she advises Katniss to stay off it for about a week, to which Katniss groans.
“Ah, I forget ye are a healer, Flor,” says Peeta, rubbing the back of his neck, obviously feeling guilty for speaking up about how to handle Katniss’s injury.
Katniss’s mother places a hand on his arm. “Think nothing of it, Peeta. I appreciate you looking out for my daughter.”
“Aye,” says Peeta. “Always.”
Katniss meets Peeta’s blue eyes; their gazes lock for a second or two, and then his are shifting off to the other side of the room.
Flora, not seeming to think Peeta’s response unusual, nor noticing the tension in the air, asks, “How did this happen?”
Katniss realizes after a moment that the question is directed at her, and she gives the short answer, “I tripped over a rock.” She glances over at Peeta, and he’s staring at his shoes. Probably still feeling responsible for her getting hurt.
Once more, Katniss feels like an idiot. She’s normally so nimble, soft of foot, but she’s used to walking on a different type of terrain, and she wasn’t exactly clear-headed or paying much attention at the time. Thankfully, no one questions it.
After she’s been dosed with sleep syrup by her mother, against her will, Katniss lies back in bed. She's glad that the group doesn’t hover, having communally decided to give her space in order to get some rest. All save for Peeta. He lingers, scratching the back of his neck.
“I, uh, jus’ wanted to apologize again, Katniss.”
She shakes her head, but that only makes her dizzier‒the sleep syrup is potent.
“I’ll, uh, let ye be gettin’ some rest now,” he says.
Katniss watches Peeta’s blurry form begin to retreat. Although she’s still hurting emotionally, and a part of her wants to stay angry with him, even hate him, she can’t seem to. “No, wait,” she says, reaching out into the growing darkness.
“What is it, leannan?”
“...Stay.”
“Stay?” he asks, incredulous.
“Yes. Stay, Peeta. Will you stay with me?” Her plea is much too fervent, and she knows she shouldn’t be asking at all. Tomorrow, she’ll surely blame it on being medicated, but for now…
“Aye, lass. I’ll stay.”
Comforted, Katniss smiles faintly.
What she truly wants is for him to climb in bed with her, but she knows she can’t ask that, not with her family downstairs and with Peeta’s edict about no casual hookups, but she doesn’t want him to go yet, so she motions to the chair beside the bed.
“Just until I fall asleep?” she says. Peeta nods and makes his way over, rooting himself in the chair. It's a bit flimsy and squeaks a little under his manly mass.
Katniss rolls onto her side and stares up at him, her eyelashes beginning to flutter rapidly. The all-too-sweet syrup works quickly. It won’t be long now, thinks she.
“Peeta, I…”
“Shh, leannan, ye should rest.”
“Okay,” she mutters, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. She ventures closing them, knowing they might not open until late the next morning. In the darkness, though, she reaches out for Peeta again. She feels his hand slip into hers, interlocking their fingers, and she feels herself losing consciousness. “Peeta,” she mutters his name, and she hears him answer. “You won’t go, right? Stay,” she requests yet again.
As she drifts out of consciousness, she hears him whisper something, a single word, but she doesn’t quite catch what it is.
Although being bedridden sucks, Katniss doesn’t mind it so much in this case, for she has good company. Prim hangs out with her more than she expected, and not to mention, Peeta drops by every day during the week she’s laid up. He brings her baked goods and an assortment of fresh wildflowers (heather, cowslip, buttercup, primrose, cranesbill, pansies, as well as herbs for her mother, and one day, he even manages to find katniss) daily for her bedside table, and he sits up in her room talking with her for hours. No one questions it or seems to have a problem with it.
Sometimes they discuss matters of interest to one or both of them; sometimes she asks him to tell her stories, and he does so. He tells her stories about his life, his family, and his travels. And even though she’s stuck inside, Katniss greatly enjoys her bedside conversations with Peeta.
Things between them have smoothed out since after Peeta’s initial apology and a little talk they had the day following her injury. Although she’s not exactly happy about it, she understands where he’s coming from, and for the most part, accepts it.
That isn’t to say she’s not the least bit confused. The way Peeta smiles at her, the way he finds little ways to touch her, the way he held her hand, lightly stroking her knuckle with his thumb, and of course, the way he kissed her…it’s things like these that make her believe she could have a chance with him. He clearly has feelings for her, but he won’t act on them. It’s incredibly frustrating, and she’s not exactly sure why he’s doing this. She knows it has to be more than the age thing and her family, but he won’t say. Is it simpy about their expiration date? Is he purposely toying with her heart?
No, Peeta wouldn’t do that. Peeta Mellark is a kind, gentle man. But then again, she’s only known him for a couple of weeks.
Surprisingly, it’s Delly who sheds light on the matter when she comes to visit Katniss one afternoon. Katniss isn’t much for talking; Delly is, however, and she winds up spilling the beans about Peeta’s ex. No, not just his ex‒his ex- fiancée.
Delly tells Katniss about how Peeta was engaged to some bonny lass who turned out to be a she-devil (oh, Delly used some colorful Scottish lingo which seemed to universally translate, all negative) and ended up dumping him. Automatically, Katniss hates this woman‒first, for being with Peeta, and then, for breaking his heart‒but when Delly tells her the reason, Katniss is stunned. Apparently, this bonny she-devil of Peeta’s discovered some age-old family rivalry, and either her family forbade her or she decided herself (it’s unclear to Delly) that she couldn’t be with Peeta any longer.
Katniss is boiling inside after the story. Even if her family despised Peeta, she would never let something like that stand in their way.
Well, her loss is Katniss’s gain. She hopes, anyway. If only she could convince Peeta that she isn’t going to ditch him over some trivial matter such as that.
Except that she is. And he knows it.
Only, she wouldn’t exactly call it trivial. Peeta and she have a mountainous obstacle to their relationship. Two, precisely–neither distance nor time is on their side. And Katniss can already feel their time in Scotland together swiftly ticking away. Tick tock. Tick tock.
She wonders if Peeta thinks about that as often as she does.
When Katniss’s ankle is healed, she and Peeta resume their sightseeing treks, albeit he’s overly protective and insists they start with short ones and take ‘er easy. She attempts to argue with him at first; he simply laughs and calls her a badass heroine, then requests that she go easy for his own peace of mind. And she gives in.
Peeta insists they can still enjoy Scotland while going at a slower pace. He jokingly says they’ll be like an old married couple enjoying their retirement. He blushes and laughs it off, but his words resonate with Katniss. Not in the best way. Momentarily, she’s stricken. Such a joke should be terrifying for her, given that she never plans on being married (look at the tragedy that befell her parents and how her mom reacted to it), but then again, the notion of staying by Peeta’s side and wandering around with him for the rest of her life doesn’t sound so terrible…
What in all of Scotland (and the rest of the world) is wrong with her?
Katniss is suddenly gobsmacked with the realization that maybe this is all for naught, as Peeta seemed to imply. He didn’t want to get involved with her because it couldn’t go anywhere, among other reasons. And maybe he was right. Why get close to someone when it’s all going to end? Soon. What’s the point?
That night, Katniss can’t sleep and she’s pacing the creaky floors as silently as she can on her agile hunter’s feet. When she passes by Prim’s room, she peeks in. Prim appears to be sleeping soundly, and Katniss doesn’t want to wake her, so she thinks to keep on walking. Suddenly, however, she gets the urge to check on her little sister. And so she tiptoes in and stands over her bed. Prim's golden hair is fanned across her pillow, her golden lashes fluttering lightly in her sleep. Katniss watches the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathes for several minutes.
She’s about ready to leave when Prim stirs and opens her eyes. “Katniss?”
“Oh, hey, little duck.”
“Hey.” She rubs her eyes sleepily and sits up in bed. “What’s up? Were you watching me sleep?”
“Uh, yeah, kinda,” says Katniss.
“Why? That’s a little creepy now.”
Katniss snorts. “Just checking on you.”
Prim softly sighs. “Were you worried about me? Thinking about Dad?”
When does she not think about Dad?
“A little of both. And other things, too.” Her eyes flit away, and Prim hones in on it.
“Were you thinking about a certain someone? A certain tall, burly Scotsman with wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and a sexy smile and accent, perhaps?”
Katniss crosses her arms, hugging herself tightly. “Maybe.”
“I’ve never seen you like this before.” Prim smiles. “You really like him a lot, don’t you?”
“I...yeah.” What’s the use in denying it? Prim already knows too much, and she’s already cried over him in Prim’s bed.
Prim tugs on Katniss’s sleeve, encouraging her to plop down on the edge of the bed. “Well, have you told him?”
“Yeah.”
“Well?”
“He shot me down.”
“Oh.” Prim presses her lips together. “Sorry, Katniss.”
“I mean, well, he didn’t completely shoot me down… We kissed.”
“You kissed?!” Prim screeches.
“Shh,” hisses Katniss.
“Sorry. You kissed?” Prim repeats in a whisper-screech.
“Yeah, we kissed.” Oh, did they ever kiss! Katniss feels her cheeks warm at the memory.
“Okay, so…,” Prim motions with her hand, “fill me in.”
Katniss sucks in a breath, releasing slowly before proceeding. “Okay, after the shinty game, I caught up with him, and we ended up kissing. Like, really kissing. But then he pulled away; he was upset. Said he shouldn’t have done that and apologized to me. He told me he was too old for me and it felt like he was betraying my family.”
“Oh. I see.” Prim toys with the end of her braid. “Well, I mean, Mom might be a little…concerned at first, but I don’t think Haymitch will care. The thing is, though…”
“We live in different countries,” Katniss fills in.
“Yeah. That is…the thing.”
“I know. And that seemed to be Peeta’s biggest hangup, too. He said he didn’t do casual.”
“Well, sure, I get that.” Prim chews on her lower lip. “I mean, that’s admirable of him.”
“Yeah.” Katniss sighs. Peeta is very admirable. “...I can’t seem to stay away from him, Prim. I enjoy talking to him and going around with him on sightseeing tours so much, and I don’t want that to stop, but it’s so hard to be close to him and not be able to… Oh, why am I telling you all this?”
“Because we’re sisters.” The corners of Prim’s lips turn up; she winds her arm through Katniss’s and leans her head on her shoulder. “And sisters tell each other stuff, right?”
“Right, little duck.”
“You know, even though Peeta turned you down, and for good reason, as much as I hate to say, he really seems to like you a lot, and he certainly enjoys spending time with you.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Katniss has had an insanely good time with Peeta‒seeing the sights, goofing around… But she wants to enjoy so much more of him, in an entirely different way. Naturally, she can’t tell her sister that she wants to jump their uncle’s friend’s bones, but she’s pretty sure Prim gets it, anyway.
“You know what I think?” says Prim.
“What?”
“I think you should just try and…I dunno, enjoy the time you have. Take what he’ll give. Live life to the fullest. This is a vacation, after all.”
Katniss presses her lips together. It makes sense. “Yeah, you’re right.” She smiles and strokes her sister’s smooth cheek with the back of her hand. “I should wake you up more often, little duck.”
Prim grins at her. “I am very wise and helpful. Maybe I should talk to Peeta, too.”
“No, don’t do that,” says Katniss, nearly panicking, not knowing for sure whether or not Prim is serious.
“I was kidding, Katniss. I won’t. You got this. But I do think you should revisit the whole matter. Tell him what I said about living life to the fullest.”
Katniss sniffs. “Maybe I will, Prim.” She has no intention of saying that to Peeta, however. She’s made enough of a fool of herself over him. Forcing a kiss, pleading for him to be with her, then running off and winding up twisting her ankle after he rejected her. No, if he wants her, he’s gonna have to come and get her.
“Yeah, and then you two could keep hanging out, but you could also…kiss and stuff.” Prim's cheeks flush. She raises a hand to her mouth and giggles through it.
“Hey," Katniss gapes, "what happened to the concerned sister who was so terrified and disgusted that an older man might have sexually assaulted me?”
“Well, duh! Of course, I didn’t want him to sexually assault you or assault you in any way, but Peeta seems really nice, and it seems like he’s been a perfect gentleman with you.”
He has.
“Although, I wasn’t there for that kiss…” Prim taps her chin, then smirks over at Katniss.
Good thing she wasn’t. It must’ve been quite the desperate, inappropriate display, which might’ve even had the cows blushing. Katniss certainly wasn’t at her most ladylike, though when is she ever? And Peeta certainly wasn’t gentlemanly‒that was the one exception to Peeta’s proper behavior. It was Katniss who’d initiated the whole thing, though.
Cheeks heated, “Can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Katniss complains, just to argue‒and yes, perhaps she's deflecting a little. “I barely know him, even if he is Haymitch’s friend. You trust too easily.” She says it as a reminder to herself and more so, for Prim’s benefit. She really should be a better example for her younger sister. Not every guy is as good as Peeta, not many at all, she wagers, and many would take advantage, so she doesn’t want to set a standard here that this type of thing is normal or okay.
“Well, if you don’t trust him, why are you spending time alone with him?” volleys Prim. She’s got a mean left hook. “Why are you going on day trips with him to God-knows-where in a foreign country?”
Touché, Primmy, touché.
Obviously, she does trust Peeta. Probably with her life. Maybe she shouldn’t so soon; she doesn’t normally trust so easily. How long did it take her to befriend Gale? Or Madge? Or Johanna? Even Rue, who she felt more of an instant connection with, took some time. But Peeta has shown himself to be...upstanding. Sounds like such an old-fashioned word, but it’s the best she can come up with right now. And Peeta is sort of old-fashioned.
“Besides, if you’re both adults, and it’s completely consensual…”
If only it was consensual on Peeta’s part…
Katniss nods. Maybe Prim is right, in this exceptional case. She should enjoy the time she has and make the most of it. And maybe, just maybe she can convince Peeta to do the same with her.
“Alright, little duck, alright. I get it.”
“That’s right, you get it! You go get some, girl!” exclaims Prim jubilantly, and she playfully slugs Katniss in the shoulder with her tiny fist.
Katniss laughs a little, though it quickly dries up. Then she kisses Prim on the forehead, thanks her, and says goodnight.
As she walks toward the doorway, Katniss is feeling surprisingly lighter about everything.
This is an experience. Something she can look back on fondly and tell her...not children or grandchildren about, but perhaps, someone, someday...an elderly friend in the nursing home…a mangy old cat? At least Prim should still be around. More than likely, she’ll outlive her, and ideally, they’ll remain close into their old age. Although, Katniss can already feel Prim slipping away as she gets closer to Rory Hawthorne and starts thinking about what she wants to do with her life. Katniss determines to spend extra time with Prim, both here and when they get back home, while she still can.
“Just be safe,” calls Prim from her bed.
“Yeah, yeah,” replies Katniss, waving her off with a hand.
On their next big outing, Peeta takes Katniss to see the 18th century Brechin castle where his ancestor the laird lived. She believes he chose this location on purpose, for more than just to tell her his family history. And sure enough, while walking through the gardens of the estate, he tells her about his ex-betrothed...
“Thanks for telling me, Peeta, but you didn’t have to.”
“Oh, well, I figured Delly prolly told ye all about it.”
Katniss’s mouth unhinges slightly (she’s horrible at secrets‒everyone seems to know hers before she knows them herself), and Peeta laughs.
“Oh, it’s fine that she told ye. I jus’ hope she didnae talk yer ear off about it.”
“No, not really,” Kaniss lies weakly. Peeta chuckles.
“I s’pose she jus’ shortened me tale a bit. S’pose I can just…what is it ye say? Ah, fill in the blanks.”
“You don’t have to, Peeta. It’s really none of my business; I promise I’m not going to pepper you with questions about your ex.”
“Thank ye, lass.”
“I do have one, though. If you don’t mind, uh, there’s just one question I’d like you to answer.”
“What be that, leannan?” He presses his lips together thoughtfully.
“Are you…still…in love with her?”
“Nae, lass.” He shakes his head.
Katniss eyes him with a grain of suspicion.
“Tis true, lass,” he says, interpreting her look. “If’n I was, might be more difficult to talk about her, but nae. I promise ye, I have nae romantic feelings for her anymore. I’ve moved on.”
Katniss can’t help the small smile that crosses her lips. Good.
Peeta then segues into telling her about going off to serve in the Royal Regiment of Scotland. Wow. He was a soldier? Katniss can’t help finding that hot, and she wishes she could have seen him in uniform.
It was something he’d considered doing, Peeta further explains, which his fiancée had pushed for; however, when he returned, he didn’t receive quite the warm welcome he’d expected. He’d expected her to be proud of him for his service and to greet him with exuberant affection, but instead, she’d proceeded to inform him that they could no longer be together.
Talk about a shocker.
“She said it’d be dishonor to her family for us to be together. I asked her why this never come up before, in all those years we played together as weans, and it seems she talked with her seanmhair, her great-grandmither, while I was away, and she told her the story. ‘Course, way I heard tell, her kin attacked me kin and tried to take away the land that was rightfully ours, but I ‘spose there’s always more than one side to a tale.”
Katniss blows a bit of air past her lips.
You’re better off without her. She doesn’t deserve you.
“That’s awful, Peeta. I’m sorry,” she says instead.
He nods
“Maybe ‘twas more n’ that,” Peeta goes on. “Maybe she found somebody else while I was away; I dinnae know. I do know her family set her up with a lad far more suitable than a baker of the Mellark family verra fast, lest she had her eye on him all along.”
“That sucks, Peeta.”
“Aye, lass.”
Katniss can’t help thinking horrible thoughts about this woman, about how she seemed to manipulate him like a puppet master pulling strings, then just dropped him. What kind of sick person does that? Of course, Katniss doesn’t say any of this because you never know how a person will react to someone trashing their ex, even if they’re trashing them, too. But Peeta doesn’t seem the type to say an unkind word about anyone, whether man, woman, or beast.
And she can’t really judge because she never knew this woman, though if Delly is any good at judging character, this ex of Peeta’s is the worst. Delly seems quite protective of Peeta, though. And Katniss has to wonder, why hasn’t Delly warned Peeta off of her? She must know Katniss is no good for him either.
While the wheels are turning in Katniss's head, Peeta goes on to say what a great experience the army was for him and how he doesn’t regret it. Coming home was a rude awakening, on the other hand, discovering how his relationship had disintegrated while he was away. And that’s why he took his long journey, he tells her. To clear his head, find himself again, and figure out what his life would be from then on.
“And…did you?” she asks.
He nods. “Aye, I ken I did, lass. And then I returned and met ye, and the world looked so much grander.”
Katniss feels her heart flutter momentarily. Why? Why does he do it? She sighs.
“Sorry, lass. I…shouldn'y said that.”
“No, it’s okay.” Katniss shakes her head. “I just…” She wants to ask him how he feels about her, but she’s scared to death to hear his answer. If he doesn't plan on ever acting on his feelings, what’s the point in knowing the extent of them?
But then Peeta does something so unusual Katniss can’t believe she’s actually seeing it‒he gets down on his knees.
Oh my god, what is he doing?
“I have’ta apologize for more ‘n that, Katniss. I was a real cur…kissin’ ye like that, then rejecting ye an’ I been thinking on it ever since.” He takes her hand, and Katniss sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t get ye out o’ me head, leannan. Like Delly says, I got a heid full o’ mince when it comes to ye, an’ I was jus’ wonderin if ye could forgive me.”
Katniss can feel moisture building at the corners of her eyes as Peeta takes her other hand in his. He brings one of her comparatively dainty hands up to his lips and kisses it. Then the other.
She nods.
Peeta gazes up at her. “I ken I don’t deserve ye,” he shakes his head at himself, “and I wager a bonny, young thing like ye could do so much better than an old geezer like me.” Katniss chokes out a laugh-cry. “Was afeard to feel too much for ye an’ like a coward I ran away from it. Not like ye ran from me, ‘xactly, but ye know.” Katniss smirks. “And while I still be concerned about how long we have together, I’m willin’ to find out what there might be between us. That is, if ye’ll allow it.”
Katniss smiles. “I’ll allow it.”
Peeta’s smile grows into the brightest, most beautiful thing she’s seen, rivaled only by her father’s lake, Prim as a baby, and his blue eyes.
“An’ I ken we dinnae have much time together,” he goes on, his delighted expression faltering slightly, “but I was thinkin’ …yer a long time deid, so maybe we could…what is it ye say? Live it to the fullest while we have the chance.”
Katniss is practically giddy. She’s doing her best to contain her emotions, though she’s failing miserably. This was exactly what she’d been hoping for, to make the most of her time with him. For him to accept her, at least in the interim. She’s not sure that it’ll be enough, but it’s something.
“What say ye, Katniss?” he asks, his blue eyes sparkling with hope, and perhaps desire.
Katniss beams down at him; then her mouth twitches impishly. “That depends. What do you mean by ‘live it to the fullest,’ Peeta?” She raises a brow. He chuckles, but it turns into a husky growl.
And then he’s on his feet, wrapping his bear arms around her, pulling her off her feet and against his chest. He plants a hard, moist kiss to her lips, and she kisses him back with all that’s in her. He swings her around like they’re in some romantic comedy, both of them laughing happily as they twirl, and then he’s setting her back on her feet. He doesn’t let go of her waist, though, but pulls her tight against him, wrapping his arms all the way around and then some. Clutching his own forearms, he buries his face in the crook of her neck, and he breathes her in, his lips barely touching her skin. All of a sudden, he’s pressing his lips in harder, peppering kisses on her neck.
“This okay, lass?” he whispers against her skin.
“Mm, yes,” she fervently replies. More than okay…
He continues.
“Ahh,” she gasps in pleasure as his lips part and he takes in a bit of flesh. Peeta sucks and nibbles deliciously at the skin along her neck and throat while she runs her fingers through his thick, blond waves. She uncharacteristically giggles, and he gives that manly chuckle of his before breaking away from her. She’s sorry he’s discontinued his physical attention to her, but she doesn’t complain when he slips his hand into hers and they continue walking around the still-gorgeous remains of his family’s estate.
Katniss enjoys the tour immensely, particularly experiencing the passion in Peeta’s eyes and voice when he talks about his family heritage. He’s obviously a very proud Scot. What she enjoys even more, however, are the moments when they steal away behind a tree or into an alcove to kiss.
The pair of unlikely lovers spends a great deal of time together over the next two weeks. They continue with their sightseeing tours, usually alone, occasionally with Katniss’s mother and Prim or a small group, and it’s as Prim said: They’re hanging out like before, but ‘with kissing and stuff.’
They kiss a lot ‒Katniss has discovered she’s pretty much addicted to kissing Peeta Mellark. And he seems to feel the same. They definitely get caught up in each other often, usually more than the historical sites they visit. And truthfully, Katniss feels like she’s experiencing a second round of teenage years, a far superior round in which she’s catching up on all she apparently missed out on.
Was it ever as crazy-good as this? Is it like this for everyone?
Still, Katniss can’t believe she’s actually having a fling in a foreign country. Jo would be so proud. She’d be thrilled to know Katniss has simply been spending time with a guy, and shocked to find out she’s been dating one. Jo thinks she doesn’t get out enough and socialize. But really, she’s not much better. Jo’s just as antisocial, only she’s had more boyfriends.
Another memorable outing Peeta and Katniss take is to the Ruins of Inchmaome Priory on an island in Lake Montieth. They travel by boat there with 8 other passengers, and though they’re part of a tour group, they manage to slip away on their own plenty. They tour the grounds mostly alone, holding hands and being touchy-feely. They verge on being unholy in the Priory Church interior when Peeta presses her up against a nearly 800-year-old stone wall under an archway, and she responds by fondling him over his kilt and very nearly sticking her hand down it. Then later, they rush off to the wood with the bluebells for another steamy, clandestine affair.
That’s as far as they’ve gone, though‒fooling around, kissing, touching…
It all began innocent enough (aside from after the shinty game, he’s taken it fairly slow with her), but they’ve since graduated to him caressing her breasts and grinding up against each other‒and thanks to his kilt and the lack of any barrier below, she can feel practically everything… And yes, she’s finally gotten a hand on what’s under that kilt, at least over the kilt‒not exactly firsthand, but close enough. And from what she call tell, it’s verra, verra nice (as Peeta would say).
They haven’t had sex yet, though Katniss is willing and eager. She hopes Peeta is, too. If the way he swells at the mere sight of her is any indication‒she’s noticed he’s had to slip away from the family a few times after they’ve shared some sultry looks or stolen touches‒she suspects he’s just as ready for her as she is for him. And even though they haven’t done the deed, they’ve made each other cum…she doesn’t know how many times. Heated kisses, rubbing against one another, a handful of strokes, a half dozen or so swipes of Peeta’s thumb across the crotch of her panties is plenty to send them both over the edge. At least, he’s sent her. She’s not sure about him; she has the feeling he holds back so as not to make a mess, but she’s certain she’s gotten him close, at least, for he often ends up rushing off to the bathroom, or home, after one of their interludes.
It hasn’t always been easy keeping their relationship a secret, and Peeta wasn’t exactly thrilled with the notion. He reluctantly agreed after she gave a rather persuasive argument and promised they’d tell everyone eventually, together, should they figure out how to make things work out on a more longterm basis. Of course, Prim knows. And Peeta said that Delly basically knows but that he’d make her cross her heart and recite their old pledge, swearing her to secrecy. Prim’s good at secrets, but Katniss knows little of Delly. She seems like a big mouth. Katniss only hopes she can keep her trap shut, because she doesn’t want this to get ruined.
Secret lovers. It’s a surprisingly exciting concept for Katniss, and she thinks it is for Peeta, too. They’ve enjoyed sneaking around and gotten off several times on the adrenaline surge of nearly being caught together. It’s a thrill. However, the secret lovers trope rarely seems to end well, as Prim has so helpfully pointed out.
But right now, Katniss doesn’t care. She simply wants to, needs to enjoy these intimate moments with Peeta while she can. Before he’s taken away from her.
One day, they decide to have a picnic in the meadow behind Haymitch’s house. And that day, everything changes…
Katniss had the feeling this was coming. Peeta clearly wanted to make this day special, and although Peeta is sweet and always tries to make their outings special, she suspects he has more in mind than just enjoying a picnic. There’s a glint in his eye that is likewise suggestive and hopeful.
Or, perhaps it’s her own wishful thinking.
They enjoy a delicious meal‒Peeta made the whole thing; he’s only included the Scottish foods he knows she likes as well as some American fare he whipped up, some strawberries he picked up at a roadside stand (for dessert), and of course plenty of cheese buns. Katniss feels a bit foolish about it, but she bought that short tartan skirt he liked so much, and she wore it today. She didn’t exactly wear it to entice him, not really, but she’s enjoying his reaction. It appeared Peeta was a goner for her attire from the moment he saw her, and that’s making the whole purchase worthwhile.
All the while they’re eating the incredible meal Peeta assembled atop the picnic blanket he brought, they’re smiling at each other, touching lightly‒he touches her hand, her shoulders, innocent places… And it’s all very…romantic, even silly romantic‒who knew Katniss would be the type to like feeding and being fed strawberries and pieces of bread and cheese by a lover?
Katniss has her legs tucked up under her, and she’s noticed that Peeta’s eyes keep darting to her bare legs. Finally, finally, he takes the incentive to run a large hand along the smooth olive skin that’s exposed. She wishes he’d caress her a bit higher, ideally beneath her skirt. It’s not like she’s trying very hard to keep her knees shut.
“This…” he exhales and swallows a lump in his throat, “this be verra nice. Ye look verra bonny in Scottish attire, lass.”
“Thank you,” she says, a smile in her eyes. “Well, I am part Scottish.”
“Aye, that ye are.” He gives her a lopsided smile, then stares down at this plate. It seems like he wants to say something else.
While waiting, Katniss finishes off the last cheese bun, which Peeta so generously bequeathed. “Well, uh," she clears her throat, "that was some tidy scran.”
Peeta gives a low, throaty chuckle. “Verra good, lass. We’ll have ye full Scottish in nae time. A’least unofficially.”
Katniss smirks. Why all of a sudden is she thinking of that really horrible pick-up line which could be applied to any culture? The one about 'I’m this or that percentage (for example) Scottish.' 'Would you like more in you?' Or something...
As horrible as the line is, her answer would be a resounding yes in this case.
“Lass, there be somethin’...,” Peeta finally begins, stirring her from her silly, dirty thoughts, “somethin’ I need to talk to ye about.”
Oh no. A conversation. And 'something I need to talk to you about' is rarely good.
“Okay,” she says a little shakily, and she thinks her heart might stop for several long seconds.
“These last few weeks, leannan…they…they been…the best in me life.”
What? That can’t be true.
Katniss’s heart begins to thump in her chest. Well, at least it’s working now…
“Me homelife growin’ up wasn’y always gud. And even me relationship with me ex wasn’y nearly as amazin’ as this.” Katniss’s heart speeds up. “I been having mighty good craic, I mean, fun with ye. And I lo-care about ye verra much.”
Did he almost say 'love'?
No, no, he couldn’t have. Probably just some Scottish word she doesn't know.
Either way, Katniss chooses to ignore that part, for Peeta’s sake, though her heart is threatening to hammer through her chest now.
It's then that Peeta stands up unexpectedly, and he starts pacing. After several laps around the solitary tree in the meadow, which they've been eating in the shade of, he turns around and looks at her expectantly.
“Well, say somethin’, lass.”
What does he want her to say? She knew he was having a good time and that he cared about her. And he should know that she feels the same. Does he need to hear it?
Naturally, rather than reassuring him, Katniss sticks her foot in her mouth. “I’m not good at saying something,” she mutters.
“Aye.” Peeta nods at her. “Well, I ‘spose I’ll have’ta fill in the blanks me’self.”
Katniss stands up, too, balling her small fists determinedly at her sides. Okay. Fine. Here goes...
“I’m not good at saying things like you are, Peeta. I don’t know how to use pretty words and string them together in the perfect order, but I know that…that…” She freezes, frantically searching for those elusive pretty words. And that’s when she realizes she should just keep it simple. She can’t say that she loves him, because she’s not exactly sure of what she’s feeling, or what love even feels like (aside from Prim and her dad-they’re the ones she’s felt love the strongest and surest with. But it’s a different kind of love, altogether).
However, this thing here is the closest she’s come to a romantic kind of love.
“Dinna fash, lass,” Peeta says, almost dismissively. His words aren’t cold, more matter-of-fact, though he seems almost…beaten down. It's as if she’s wounded him. He turns slightly and places a hand on the tree.
“Peeta.” She stalks over to him on soft, bare feet. He looks up just in time for her to go up on her toes and wind her arms around his neck. He likewise winds his arms around her waist. And she looks deep into his blue eyes. “I don’t know what I’m feeling exactly,” she goes for the honest tack, “but I know that I’ve never felt this way before, and it feels good.”
Peeta smiles and leans down to peck her lips, smiling all through the short kiss.
“Peeta…”
“Aye, lass?” He’s still smiling amidst rotating her hips from side-to-side in a little sway-dance.
“I…” She’s doing it; she’s going for broke. “I want you.”
“Ye…ye…want me?” His brow raises, his eyes widening slightly.
Katniss smirks. “Of course, I do. Couldn’t you tell?” she says, pressing her hips into his groin slightly. Well, it’s more like her stomach, considering he’s so tall, but it does the trick. Peeta groans and grips her hips harder, his mouth overtaking hers in a fierce kiss.
After he’s thoroughly explored her mouth in a kiss that leaves her breathless, Peeta touches his forehead to hers and says, “Ye have me, lass. For as long as ye want me.”
“But I mean...,” she whispers.
“I know what ye mean. And ye can have that, too. An’athing ye want.”
Katniss is overjoyed.
With that, she grips his shirt and brings him back down for a hard, sloppy kiss; Peeta shoves his muscular thigh between her legs and gives her a ride. And before she knows it, he’s sucking on her pulse point‒he loves doing that. She loves it, too.
In seconds, they’re completely unhinged, kissing and grinding hips and grasping at whatever hunk of flesh or body part is in reach. Once or twice, Katniss gets a bit too exuberant‒she’s (and Peeta’s) lucky everything is all nicely attached. Then they’re stumbling backward. Katniss lurches forward, but Peeta catches her, her breasts crushing against his solid chest. And then they tumble back into the grass, Peeta cushioning her fall with his broad, strong body. They were kissing in mid-air, and they don’t stop once they hit the ground, but rather, it intensifies.
Katniss is on top of him, and she feels powerful. She takes advantage, running her hands all across his chest and stomach. The planes of his chest and ridges of his stomach are hard (she’s felt them before), and between his legs is most certainly likewise (she’s felt that, too). His hands are also running everywhere, up and down her arms and across her back as he brings her impossibly closer. He cups her face and kisses her gently. And she caresses his strong, square jaw, then kisses and licks the path to his ear, where she ends with a nibble.
Every part of her has come to life, is on fire. And she can’t get enough of his hands and his mouth on her. Being connected like this, their bodies pressed flush against each other isn’t enough, has never been enough‒she needs him inside of her.
Katniss is nervous. Of course, she is. She’s never done this before. But she’s so turned on that it barely registers. She just wants to keep going before she loses her momentum and her nerve and overthinks it, or more likely, before Peeta does‒because she knows she wants this. So badly.
Peeta asks permission, and she gives him a shaky approval to take off her shirt. She sits up, in order for him to pull the tank over her head and toss it aside into the grass. He stops a moment, then, as if taking in the sight. She feels appreciated, revered, even, in his eyes, as if she’s one of those carefully preserved historical landmarks.
Staring intently, “Take my bra off, Peeta,” she breathes.
“Aye, lass.” He obeys at once, making a noise in the back of his throat as he easily unhooks the clasp. She’s never heard him sound so gruff, though she’s always thought his voice was deep and masculine, even when gentle. Peeta pulls the cups down, wrenching the garment away from her chest and flinging it off to the other side of her shirt. Again, he stops to gawk, his jaw gone slack.
“Wh-whaat?” She laughs.
“Y’er so verra beautiful, leannan.” He stares as if he’s painting a mental picture or photographing her with an invisible camera; then he reaches out with both hands, stopping just short of grasping her breasts, like the dork he is. When she can’t stand it any longer, she takes his hands and places them where she wants them.
Peeta groans pleasurably and squeezes, gently at first, then rougher, his strong, calloused hands the perfect contrast between her soft, smooth skin. He covers her neck and chest with hot, open-mouthed kisses, and she wonders if he’ll end up leaving marks. Weirdly, she kind of wants him to.
“Pe-Peeta,” she stops him. “I want to see you, too.”
“Aye,” he says, ceasing his kisses just long enough to shuck his shirt. This time it’s Katniss’s turn to stare. She always suspected he had a nice body, but now the proof of it is staring her in the face. She reaches out eagerly to touch him, first tracing his nipples; Peeta gives a sharp exhale at her hands on him.
“What?”
“I-I, uh,” he pants, “I think we should stop now, leannan.”
“Why?” she practically whines. “You said‒”
“I ken it, lass. But I nae have any, uh, protection.” Peeta looks away, his face as flushed as her chest and neck must be.
Oh, so maybe he didn’t have expectations with this little picnic...
It’s then that Katniss wonders something. It’s stupid, she knows, but she should ask anyway. “Peeta…um? Are...are you…by any chance, a virgin?”
“Nae, lass. But has been a while. I haven’y been with an’aone asides me fiancée, former fiancée, that be.”
Another reason for Katniss to hate his ex‒she was with him. At least this means he’s clean. Not that she thought he wouldn’t be, but it’s good to check.
“I am,” Katniss admits, her eyes flitting away briefly.
“Oh, leannan…”
“Do you think I’m pitiful?”
“Nae, leannan.” He smiles adoringly and strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. “Had a feelin’ ye were pure.”
“Too pure?” Pure, that is, aside from practically ripping his clothes off every time I see him.
“Nae at all. For me, ye’re perfect.” Again, that adoring smile that melts Katniss into a puddle. She leans forward and presses her lips to his.
“But…wi’ me… ye want to do this wi’ me? Ye want me to be ye’r first?”
And only. Maybe...
Her eyes lock on him, and Katniss nods.
"And you know," she sucks in a breath, "since we’re both…clean…we could, um, we could maybe skip the…protection. You could just…uh, pull out.”
Peeta hesitates a moment, his brow furrowing in contemplation. “Aye, lass. ‘Spose I could. If ye’r sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“I promise I’ll be careful wi’ ye, sweetheart.”
“I know you will,” she says. And when he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, she’s not a bit worried.
It doesn’t take Peeta long to work Katniss into a frenzy. He hikes up her tartan skirt, slides down her panties, and starts with his fingers, which easily slip in, for she’s been wet for him for damn near the entire time they’ve been in the meadow. Next, he uses his mouth. He kisses up her thighs and inserts his tongue; he licks and sucks and swirls, and in no time, he has her panting and writhing in the grass.
It’s not long at all before her heart rate is skyrocketing and her muscles down below are tensing and clenching; she’s building and building…staring down over the precipice, ready to fall into bliss. God, she knew he was good with his mouth, but seriously?! …And then her breath hitches, and with a gasp and a high cry, she reaches her climax.
Peeta’s watching her now as she comes down, the corners of his lips twitching. “Did ye enjoy that, lass?”
She rolls her eyes at him. “I think it’s safe to say I did.”
“Gud.”
Katniss sprawls out and stares up at the blue-blue sky, breathing slowly in and out as Peeta traces her arm with his fingertips. And then she’s sitting up. “Now I think it’s your turn,” she says determinedly.
Peeta grins. “Ye dinnae have to, lass.”
As if that would stop her.
She pushes him onto his back, straddles him, and kisses him. They share a few hot, deep kisses as he kneads her hips and butt, and then he’s rolling her over. She reaches for the belt of his kilt, struggling for a moment. He shows her how to unfasten the belt and lets her remove his kilt for him.
And yeah, he has absolutely nothing on underneath.
Katniss’s mouth drops open at the sight of his hard, rigid length staring her down, and she can’t help but reach out and take hold of it. She gives his already slickened dick a few strokes, and Peeta squeezes his eyes shut and groans.
Hovering above her, Peeta brushes aside a stray strand of hair from her face and takes his time lining himself up at her entrance. At first, he presses in just a little bit until he meets resistance while kissing her and fondling her breast. “Ready, lass?” he says, fainly panting.
“Yes.”
And then he’s sliding all the way inside of her to the hilt. She squeaks as he breaks her barrier, and it’s a little uncomfortable at first, but soon, she’s adjusting to the sensation. Again, he checks to see that she’s okay, and she gives him the go-ahead. Peeta begins to move slowly, in and out, holding his weight up with one arm while squeezing her breast with the other. Occasionally, he caresses her face or plants light kisses along her cheeks and to her lips. He does keep stopping himself to make sure he’s not hurting her, and she suspects it's also to refrain from losing control too soon.
Eventually, he picks up the pace and gets into a steady rhythm. Katniss sighs and moans and digs her fingers into his back, and it’s all Peeta can do to keep from going off the deep end. He's speaking Gaelic in between thrusts, and she has no idea what he's saying, whether curses or praise. He could be spouting poetry, or he could be saying the filthiest things. She doesn’t bother to break his momentum to ask him, for she can barely breathe normally, let alone speak, at least coherently. All she can focus on is how good it feels as he pounds into her.
Before long, Peeta’s panting against her neck. “Leannan, I-I canna…”
“Wh-what?” she says breathlessly.
“I...I...need to slow down, love.”
She’s close, and it’s making her antsy. In a delicious sort of way. But still... She bucks her hips into his hard and holds onto him tighter, pulling him down.
“Leannan. Nae, sweetheart. Jus' a second… I’m gonna… I need ta…”
“Okay,” she mutters, barely comprehending in her dazed state.
Peeta slows himself down. “But ye… I dinnae want to leave ye on…on the precipice…”
She knows what he’s saying to her. Looking him in the eyes, she brushes back his sweaty bangs. “It’s okay, Peeta. You can let go.”
“Aye.”
He says yes, though Peeta doesn’t seem quite convinced; he starts fingering her and gives her a deep, moist kiss. Their tongues tangle together as he picks up his pace again, and she allows her hands to freely traverse his backside. When they break apart for air, he latches on with his mouth to the spot at the juncture of her ear and jaw which he’s learned drives her wild. His breathing is labored as he nibbles and sucks on the spot, and soon his powerful body is shuddering and he’s wrenching himself back almost violently.
Peeta pulls out a couple of seconds too late with a groan; he squeezes his eyes shut as he spills onto the grass and partially across her leg.
Catching his breath, Peeta stares into Katniss's eyes. She stares back, feeling a number of immeasurable and not quite definable emotions for the man above her, but all of them very, very good.
“Ahh, lookie here,” Peeta says with a half sheepish grin-half grimace. He goes for one of the unused cloth napkins and after asking permission, uses it to wipe what he can of his spend from her leg.
***
After, they lie back in the grass and stare up at the sky. Peeta points out a kestrel flying overhead‒she assumes to break the tension‒then starts in with some kind of weird ‘What does that cloud look like to you?’ game?
Dork. They just had sex, and he wants to talk about birds and clouds.
She already knew the name of the bird, and she doesn’t want to play his game.
Normally, she wouldn’t want to talk at all, especially in such an intimate situation as this (not that she has anything to go off), so she’s surprised that she does. She wants to, no, needs to know what he’s thinking. For instance, did he enjoy it? Although, she’s pretty sure he did.
“Peeta…how…did you…?”
Resting with one burly arm behind his head, he turns to look at her. He gives her a soft smile with lips and eyes. “Was incredible, lass.” She’s thankful, in this case, that he’s able to read her mind.
“Really?”
“Aye. Really.” He smiles wide, and his hand fumbles around on the ground until it finds hers. He threads his fingers through hers.
“And ye…?” he asks after a moment, staring up at the sky, seeming uncertain. Before she can answer, he adds, “I’m sorry, leannan.”
“For what?”
“For the…mess. And for…well, finishing before ye. Wasn'y gentlemanly.”
“It’s fine, Peeta. It happens.” Or so she hears. She knows he held off as long as he could, and she kind of takes pleasure in knowing she made it difficult for him to hold out. “You already gave me one orgasm today.” And that was only this afternoon. There’ve been plenty of other times when he was directly or indirectly responsible for doing so prior to them having sex. And she's sure he’s destined to give her many more. And she him. She hopes, anyway.
“I’ll make it up to ye. Promise.” He crosses his heart, and it’s the most utterly adorable thing she’s seen in a very long while. She plants her hand on his broad chest and kisses him.
“Okay.” She giggles. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Aye. Hold me to it, lass,” he says.
They remain where they are, neither ready to move yet. Katniss nestles in closer, and after reaching for the picnic blanket and swiping it out from under their basket of food, Peeta drapes it across her and partially across himself, and he wraps her up tightly in his arms. Nuzzling her nose against the skin of his side, she breathes in his scent deeply. He has a musky scent going from their rendezvous, and she imagines she does, too, but nonetheless, it’s mixed in with that sweet baker smell of his, the sweet smell of Peeta, the older, Scottish man who’s stolen her heart.
Yes, she thinks he probably has.
Enamored, even more so than before, Katniss takes stock of Peeta's beautiful face. He’s clean-shaven today‒for her, she supposes. That makes her smile. And she inwardly giggles over the conversation she imagines he had with himself today in the mirror. She can just picture him shaving, bright and early this morning (because, baker hours, and it’s already starting to come back) and vowing to his mirror not to look like a hairy coo in front of Katniss. Her eyes roam up his face. His blue eyes are bright as the sky and vivid as the bluebells they saw the other day, and his brow is a bit sweaty. He’s still faintly out of breath, also, and considering he’s built like an ox and is always hiking and lugging sacks of flour around the bakery, she takes pride in that.
Katniss rests her head against Peeta’s ribs, placing a hand on his sternum and rubbing up and down. Instinctively, she hitches a leg over his, and she can already feel his dick hardening anew.
They could surely have another go at it right now. She thinks she’s game if he is. However, it’s also nice just lying here peacefully against him.
Katniss sighs pleasantly as he caresses her bare back with thick, nimble digits. And her mind begins to wander to what just happened between them. She doesn’t regret it; she never could. And as far as first times go, it was pretty incredible. She never expected her first time to be so wonderful and…moving, even. Then again, she was starting to question whether or not she’d ever have sex at all.
It was a real stroke of luck coming to Scotland.
But then again, maybe it wasn’t…
Katniss decides to ignore the fact that she’ll be leaving Scotland in the near future (and no doubt saying goodbye to Peeta forever) and focuses on the here and now. As she stares up at the sky, she revels in the delicious twinge between her legs. She knows she might be sore later, especially considering it was Peeta‒and even being as gentle as he could be, she’s still tiny and he’s a beast of a man‒but she’s not concerned about it. Instead, she feels a great sense of calm and bliss here in the meadow.
This was the perfect place for it to happen for her.
And Peeta…well…him, too.
Katniss isn’t sure how long they lie there, but eventually, Peeta stirs.
“Well, I ‘spose I should let ye get cleaned up,” he says.
That’s right. Katniss can still feel Peeta’s slick inside of her, though she’s not too worried about it, and remnants drying on her leg. She probably should go and shower, but she’s not ready to part ways with him.
“Hey, Peeta?”
“Aye, lass?”
“Mm, don’t you think it’s strange…?”
“What is, lass?”
“Well, that we’ve spent so much time together and know so much about each other, and we’ve even…slept together now, but I haven’t even seen your house?”
Peeta pokes his lip out slightly, then chuckles. “Aye, 'spose so.” He pauses before extending the invitation. “Ye want to see me house, leannan?”
“Yes, Peeta. Show me your house.”
“Al’right. An’athing for ye, me bonny braided lass.”