Survivor's Remorse

(III) The Veil

When I woke up, I was back in Peeta's bed and I was not alone. Haymitch must have fetched him once I gave in to my exhaustion. He sat beside me in the bed, propped against the headboard trapped in place by my arms locked around his thighs, my head lying in his lap. Once again I was keeping him anchored in place. His fingers ran through my hair tenderly, twirling within the curls and rolling them around his fingers. His right hand just above my forehead, the thumb stroking my temple as he hummed 'The Willow' lullaby in his throat lowly. 

Oh, my sweet Peeta. 

I couldn't help it when I nuzzled into his hand as his left thumb began to stroke at my cheek, shifting his hips so he could be closer to me. I squirm a little as my eyelids fluttered and while Peeta's humming stopped, his fingers hadn't. My heart thudded wildly in my chest with the fear of having to face him.

Ugh I am such a coward. 

"Love", Peeta called in that honey sweet deep hum of his 

Biting my lip, I took a steadying breath and rolled to face him, grateful the curtains of my hair mostly hid my eyes as I peeked through my lashes at him. I relinquish my hold around his thighs and slowly draw myself from his lap in a sitting position beside him, my head still lowered.

How was I supposed to just talk about this? 

Biting my lip harder, it took Peeta's gentle hand on my cheek to snap me out of my inner turmoil. As I nuzzled into his warmth, his thumb slid under my chin, tilting it up with ease, so that I was now forced to stay trapped in the deep honey filled depths. His eyes saddened just the slightest in the pained blink he gave when he saw that mine were still red and terrified.  His index finger slid back and forth across my plump bottom lip, and I knew that even red and puffy, he wanted to kiss me.

It felt criminal to wish that he would. 

"We need to talk" 
"About?"
"Us"

A sharp intake of air was the only answer I gave him. I was ok to talk about this.

"And our first games"

This I was not. 

"What about it?" I snap defensively pulling out of his touch.

I don't want him touching me when the grime of that time still coated my skin. Not on those hands. 

"I...I don't want to upset you"
"A little late for that"
"I'm sorry about that. But, I want to be with you too much to let that be what's keeping you from me"
"Peeta please"
"Not this time sweetness", he shook his head as his blonde curls moved like waves against his forehead.

Mmm. His hair only looked like that when he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly in frustration. He did it a lot when he was stuck on a design of something those strong fingers created. I loved when it was tousled like that. 

"First of all, you've always had permission to touch me however you wanted to since our first games. I don't know if you remember but, I'm pretty sure I gave you explicit permission in that cave and again on stage in front of millions of people"

I searched my memory.

The interview.

I told Caesar about how I felt that I could keep Peeta and it gave me hope. I hadn't wanted to elaborate on what I meant because I wasn't quite sure myself. Peeta had lit up beside me, his body weight shifting so that he was domineering, now dwarfing me with his body and energy on that loveseat. He had whispered it so huskily in my ear, his warm breath fanning against my neck, in a way that made me grateful my thighs were pulled up tight on the couch, firmly pressed together.