Chapter Text
How I ended up running from a bear is one thing I'm not completely sure of. I mean, 5 minutes ago we had just called break on set, and I had gone into the woods for a quick piss since my trailer was too far away. And now I find myself in this predicament. I, Peeta Mellark, Hollywood action star, and teen heart throb. Am going to die.
If I had known that there was a bear so close to the set, I would have just gone into my trailer and waited it out. But no, I took for granted that we are in the middle of nowhere, on a fucking mountain. Where there are bears, and cougars, and who knows what else. I didn't think they'd come so close to the damn camp.
So here I am, weaving through trees, running from a black bear with its tongue rolling out of its mouth, and a look of pure glee on its face. And quickly gaining. I steal a quick glance back. Not knowing how much time I have and try to spot a big tree. Bears can't climb right? My feet are flying across the forest floor, then of all things of course, I step into a hole, roll my ankle, and fall flat on my face. That's it. I'm done. I'm going to be eaten. I close my eyes and shield my face.
I hear a soft thud, but don’t open my eyes until I hear a soft, yet firm feminine voice. "Don't move." she whispers to me. I crack open my eyes to make sure I haven’t lost my mind, and that it’s not actually the bear speaking to me. And there she is, my guardian angel here to rescue me. Standing right between me and the bear. She has a long dark braid down to the small of her back, a light brown faded jacket, earthy brown boots to her knees, and a pair of tight black pants, that cup her ass rather nicely. Which I might add, is possibly the nicest butt I have ever laid eyes on. But of course, just beyond the curve of her wonderful backside, I spot the bear again, and its stopped several feet away, tilting its head back and forth to look at her.
"Don't look at him in the eye moron." She whispers to me, but not taking her eyes off the bear. He starts to walk up towards us again, a little cautiously, I might add. In a clear, calm voice, my angel starts to talk to him. "Bee, get out of here, right now. Your fun is over, now let the stupid boy go on his way." Bee? She's named this bear? What? Is he her sadistic pet? What is wrong with this devil woman?
Bee, stops his approach, pawing at the ground for a moment, and gives her a sad look. If bears could give puppy eyes that's what he would be doing. She lifts her arms slowly above her head, and I notice for the first time the bow in her hands. Is she going to kill him? No, that's not what's happening, she's got it above her head, making her look much bigger than she is. "Bee. Shoo." She says rather pointedly. He gives her one more sad look, before turning around and lumbering back down the path. I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding, and go to stand up. But her hand comes back down and she holds it on my shoulder, keeping me on the ground. Still not looking at me, but where Bee went. "Don't move, not yet."
I sit and wait for several minutes, while she quietly surveys the area around us. I breathe deeply to calm my racing heart, shaking slightly, while the silence of the woods surrounds us. I swallow thickly and do my best to keep myself from puking as the shaking starts to worsen and my adrenaline comes down. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, but the come down is horrendous. I scrape my hands over my eyes and keep breathing, slow steady breathes, trying not to cry. I push back tears, wiping the corners of my eyes quickly, hoping that my angel hasn’t noticed.
Bird song starts in the trees, the sounds of the woods coming back to life around us, she nods to herself before turning and kneeling beside me. My breath hitches, and I forget about my deep breathing exercise, as I'm suddenly drowning in the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. Like pools of quicksilver, they're calm. She can't be more than 19. My age. What is she doing out here?
"Are you hurt?" and I'm broken from my trance.
“Uh, yeah” I cough, my voice sticking in my throat. “Yeah, I think I’m okay.” She offers me a hand, which I take, only to regret it immediately when I go to stand up and nearly pull her over. My ankle screams at me, and I sit back down. "Maybe not,” I grimace. I reach down and pull up the hem of my pants, revealing the blackened skin. Fuck. The director is going to be so pissed.
She studies my ankle for a moment before she looks up at me, our eyes catching. She stiffens for a moment, before her eyes quickly flit away. She stands up, wipes her hands on her pants, and walks off. Into the bush, alone. What the fuck?! Is she leaving me here? I follow her silhouette as she disappears beyond the trees. I swallow my hurt, and my eyes threaten to water at the prospect of being abandoned. It’s just the adrenaline, you are not going to cry. It’s not long though, before I hear the soft crunch of her boots coming back, and she comes back into view with a big stick.
"Okay, let's try this again." She reaches out her hand for mine, bracing to better support me this time. I take her hand again, this time noticing the thick calluses on her palms. Most girls I've come across have sweet, soft little hands. But most girls don't confront bears. I stand as best I can, keeping my weight off my shitty ankle, trying not to fall back over. She hands me the stick, and I jab it into the ground to maintain my balance, reaching out with my other hand to lean on the tree. She climbs the tree beside us swiftly, retrieves a bag, and a quiver of arrows, before jumping down beside me again. That's where she must have come from. She didn't actually fall from heaven to save me, just a tree.
She hitches her pack across her body, and loops her quiver over her shoulder. She moves to stand beside me, on the same side as my injured ankle, reaching for me with her free arm, tentatively securing herself to my side, effectively supporting my weight. “Is this okay?” She asks gently, looking up at me through her dark eyelashes. I feel my cheeks start to burn, and I nod, unable to hold her gaze. She nods back, pulling me into her more firmly, and I throw my arm over her shoulder. She tips her chin down the path, and we start our slow procession through the woods. I glance down at her again, studying her raven hair, and the dark freckles on her nose. Her quivers slips from her shoulder, and she adjusts it quickly, the movement causing her jacket to fall open, and my eyes lock to a thin bead of sweat, that has started to roll down her neck & down her collarbone. I rip away my gaze quickly before I keep following it down.
"What's your name?" Of all my questions, this feels like the most important. Not, where are we going? What were you doing there? How did you know how to do that? Are you single? I shake my head at the last thought.
"Katniss." She doesn't look at me, just ahead with a look of determination on her face... or is that annoyance? "How did you end up on my mountain?" Annoyance, definitely.
Her mountain? That doesn't make sense. We're in the middle of nowhere. The only place close to here is some small mining town. "I'm filming a movie. I'm Peeta Mellark." I flash a practiced smile, inwardly embarrassed that I just assumed that she knew who I am. She scowls in response. Maybe she does know, but just doesn’t like me. I drop the smile, cringing at myself. “Where are we going?" I change the subject, needing to distance myself from the celebrity faux pas. Don’t you know who I am? Ugh, I never wanted to be that guy.
"My place, there's a storm coming in,” She tilts her chin down the path. “My house is easier than trying to find your camp. My mom can treat your ankle as well." I try to scan through the trees. It was a beautiful day when I was on set in the meadow. A couple grey clouds off in the distance. I go to argue this point when we step out of the woods, into a clearing. That's when I spot it. A log cabin. Or log mansion I should say, this place is fucking huge. There's a stone patio in front of the house, with beautiful patio furniture, and a large fire pit. A large garden stands off the to side. It's surrounded by a tall fence. For deer I guess, and judging by the little divot by it, it goes under ground to keep rabbits out as well. There's a helicopter pad on the far side, which stands empty.
I gape at Katniss as we trudge towards the house. “This is your place?” But she doesn’t seem to hear me as the patio door opens and a woman comes out the front door, clutching her long skirt and striding towards us quickly. A bouncing girl with matching fair hair comes bounding out of the house behind her. Katniss smiles and waves as we get closer. The smile transforms her already beautiful face. I can’t look away from her. I want to paint her smile, I want to feel the softness of her cheeks. I almost reach up with my hand to do so, forgetting the incoming audience.
"We have company," Katniss calls out, and I snap back to reality, clearing my throat, and looking to the incoming woman. "Rolled his ankle pretty good too." Her mother I assume, says something to the small girl who runs inside, before quickening her pace to meet us. When she does, she takes the stick from my hand, and reaches around my middle to support me. She doesn't say a word to Katniss or myself but just helps escort me into their home. We enter through the large doorway, and they walk me swiftly down a large hallway and into a fair sized room, that smells of herbs. Sitting me on a low table the sits in the center of the room. I prop my leg on my table, bringing it into view. The little one is in here already, mixing something in a bowl.
“Okay, lets see what we’re dealing with.” Her mothers voice is soft, and comforting. She proceeds to ease off my shoe, then cuts off my sock instead of trying to roll it down. The skin has gotten much worse since I last looked, it's purple and black, and the swelling is overwhelming. "What's your name dear?" She asks while inspecting my foot.
"My name is Peeta Mam.”
She smiles kindly, and palpates around my ankle, pushing lightly on the swollen tissue, and testing how much my ankle will move. "I'm Astrid Everdeen. You can call me whatever you like. Tell me when it hurts Peeta." I do my best not to cry as she inspects my ankle. “Good news Peeta. Your ankle isn’t broken. Just sprained.” She smiles at me. “Prim, the salve please.” She reaches behind her without looking, and the girl hands her the bowl, then races across the room, grabbing some sort of sports binding from a drawer, and comes right back to stand beside her mother, watching intently as she applies the cooling salve all over my ankle. Mrs. Everdeen instructs Prim on what she’s been doing and why, then starts looping the binding all around my ankle, the entire time pointing things out to Prim, who watches with unblinking focus.
Katniss stands in the corner. Silent and watching while her mother works. "Since there's a storm coming in, we can't get you back to your camp yet. You'll have to stay here. I think it’s safe to say you won’t be walking for a while.” I glance at her mother who nods. "So hiking back to the camp isn't going to happen. If you want to call anyone you’re going to have to wait till my mother is finished with you." She turns towards the door, her braid swishing against her back before she turns back once more. She meets my eyes before they flit down to the floor, her cheeks warming slightly. "In the meantime Peeta, make yourself at home." And with that she leaves the room, taking my heart with her. I can’t stop staring even as she disappears from view. I suddenly can't fathom ever being without this wild, strange girl.
I, Peeta Mellark, Hollywood action star, and teen heartthrob, am completely, and utterly, twitter patted by Katniss Everdeen.