The Hunger games - I'm still breathing (Everlark)

Chapter 30

We step off the train, squinting in the sunlight that dots through the clouds. I place my hand against the bandage that winds around my head, trying to console the ache that's running through it.

I take in the view around us. The ocean is endless, stretching out for miles and miles, the shades of blue altering the further out that it gets. The air is crisp and fresh. I love the way the wind brushes by our faces here, leaving a trail of salt behind on our lips.

I can hear Peeta struggling along behind me with all the bags. I turn around with a grin on my face. He's hauling along our suitcase, as well as carrying a rucksack on his back and holding two bags on his arm. I let out a small laugh.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry any of the bags, Peeta?" I ask.

"Yes I'm sure. You're injured, you cant be carrying anything heavy," he says.

"Carrying something isn't going to affect my head, Peeta," I say, raising my eyebrows at him.

"It might, you could trip up with them and hit it again and make it bleed even more," he says, mimicking my expression back at me.

I frown in mock concentration.

"I wonder what would happen if I did this..." I say, placing a single finger on Peeta's bicep and giving him a gentle push.

He teeters dangerously to the side, the weight of the bags pulling him down to the floor. He catches his footing and gains his balance just in time.

"Katniss! Don't do that or I'll end up crushed to death by all of your bags!" he scorns me, trying hard to keep a smile from appearing on his face.

"Well don't be so stubborn and give me a bag to carry then!" I respond. "And they aren't all of my bags, I guarantee most of what is in them bags is your art stuff."

"You've been stubborn more times that I can count in the past years, I think I am allowed on this one occasion, to be stubborn myself," he says. "And it would be a shame to come all this way and see all of this and not get a few paintings out of it."

We continue our light-hearted bickering the whole way to our hotel, during which time I manage to relieve him of the two bags dragging down his arm. It seems my resolve to help Peeta, outweighs his stubbornness.

We drop our luggage off, unwrap my bandage and head straight out to the beach. We clamber over the dunes, steadying each other on the unstable surface. Half way across, we decide to abandon our shoes and run bare feet in the sand. I'm right on Peeta's heels when he trips and rolls down to the bottom. Not being able to stop myself in time, I tumble after him. We land in a tangle of laughter.

"See?" I say, leaning over and resting my elbows on his chest, "I fell and banged my head and everything is still okay."

He rolls his eyes, leans up and gives me a sandy kiss.

I look up and see that an old man and woman are watching us from the side.

"Peeta, I think we have an audience," I giggle quietly, nodding in the direction of the couple.

He tilts his head in the sand and a snort escapes from his mouth when he spots their perplexed expressions.

"Shhh..." I laugh, putting my hand over Peeta's mouth to shut him up. "They might not be very happy if they think we're laughing at them."

"But we are laughing at them?" he says in a more hushed tone.

I get up and pull Peeta to his feet. We stumble away from them, trying not to make our laugher too obvious, till we're out of earshot.