Drabble Challenge

Day 4

"Imagine your OTP exchanging gifts for the first time during the holidays, maybe both a little nervous that the other won't like their gift. It turns out that neither has reason to be anxious; both love the other's gift and kisses are exchanged along with each present."

Peeta's present trembles in my hands, and I wipe my sweaty palms on my faded, ripped jeans before snaking a hand out from within my coat pockets to ring his doorbell.

When the door swings open I'm greeted with a smiling face capped with blonde curls that are familiar but not my boyfriend's.

"Katniss!"

"Hi, Mr. Mellark," I reply, and smile shyly.

"For the last time, Katniss, it's Graham!" he corrects good-naturedly.

I smile again but before I can fix my mistake, I hear faintly from somewhere upstairs, "Is that Katniss?"

The voice apparently doesn't need an answer. I hear the telltale pounding of Peeta's careless feet a second before he appears on the landing, smiling and dressed smartly in a hunter-green sweater and khakis.

"Hey," he says breathlessly.

"Hey, yourself."

Mr. Mellark- Graham- just grins between us before shaking his head. "Alright, you crazy kids," he says. "I can practically touch the sexual tension with my hands so I'll get out of your way." He walks off into the kitchen.

I blush at his words but Peeta just envelopes me in a big, fuzzy, sweater hug.

"I've missed you," he exhales into my hair.

"You literally saw me five days ago. Ice skating, remember?" I laugh, but on the inside I'm breathing a sigh of relief because it feels like forever since I've last touched him.

"Five days too long," he murmurs, then releases me. My heart automatically sinks at our miniscule distance.

"Well, you look absolutely ravishing, Ms. Everdeen."

I laugh and push on his chest. "Shut up. I'm literally wearing my dad's sweater and ratty jeans."

He shrugs. "You're not going to get me to believe that you're not beautiful every second of every day." My cheeks flame in response.

The package in my hands catches Peeta's attention. "Ooh, is that for me?" I nod. "Perfect, I have yours downstairs. Let's go." He grabs my hand and leads me down the staircase.

My heart thrums in my chest at the sight and feel of Peeta's warm hand completely dwarfing my still-frigid one, and a small smile briefly lights up my face.

In the basement he plucks a crudely wrapped gift off of the couch and hands it to me. I smile at him and immediately begin stripping off the already-mostly-shredded tissue paper.

I narrow my eyes and try to decipher the piece of fabric in my hand. "Is this... Is this a fucking 'N Sync shirt?"

Peeta cracks up at my reaction, doubling over and clutching his knees for support. He finally composes himself to gasp out, "Unfold it."

I scrutinize him for a moment in confusion before letting the folds in the shirt drop. Several scraps of paper flutter to the ground, and I swipe them up before surveying them.

I whip my head up at him, hoping desperately that this is real and not some crazy, fangirl dream. "Peeta."

He can barely conceal his jubilant smile as he nods.

I scream in excitement and fling my arms around his waist. "Oh god, thank you."

He's laughing again, and in my elation the tickets to Justin Timberlake's Philly concert slip out of my hand and float to the floor.

I only realizing I'm crying when Peeta says, "Holy shit, Katniss," and swipes at my cheeks with his thumbs. The edges of his blue eyes are still crinkled in mirth, and the smell of his woodsy cologne is intoxicating.

I can't help myself. I kiss him.

Most couples would be kissing regularly with almost six months under their belts, but Peeta and I are not most couples, and Peeta, of course, is too much of a gentleman to ever push me. Still, he reacts quickly after a few moments of being stunned into stillness, and soon his large hands are grasping my waist, my hips, pulling me closer. After a little while I break away to catch my breath. Peeta's panting as well.

"I, um..." I tuck a loose hair behind my ear and look away, suddenly shy. "I had to do that."

"Katniss, like I give a fuck," he replies, a goofy smile pasted on his beautiful face. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

"You deserved it. For the gift." I laugh and bend down to pick up the tickets.

"I wasn't sure you would like it," he admits. "You don't talk about him much anymore, so I didn't know if you'd appreciate it."

I shake my head at him, smiling. "I don't talk about him anymore because I'm annoying and I didn't think you'd want me gushing over another guy."

"You are not annoying, but yes, you're right about the other thing." He laughs. "Anyway, I got you two tickets, since I figured you'd want to go with Prim, or Gale-"

I flick his forehead, ignoring his sharp cry. "Are you kidding me, Peeta? I'm going with you, you big dork."

"Fine, fine. Geez, you didn't need to flick me..."

I smile at his mutterings. "Shut up and let me give you your present."

He furrows his brow. "Kind of thought you just did."

"No, that was just a bonus," I say, and grab the wrapped box from a side table.

He smiles at me as I hand it to him and then proceeds to peel off the festive Christmas paper. My heart pounds violently in my chest as I try to gauge his reaction. Then it seizes in adoration as a huge smile breaks over his face, and he looks up at me.

"Katniss, you remembered," he says in awe, holding up the box of acrylic paints I'd saved up for months to buy, and I nod.

"How could I forget?" I reply. "You looked like a kid in a candy shop when you saw these." I laugh at the memory of him at the store with his wide, insanely blue eyes and his fingers tentatively touching the paints, as if they'd scamper away if he moved too suddenly.

He chuckles along with me, then pulls me in by my waist and presses his lips firmly to my eager ones. Then he rests his forehead against mine, still smiling slightly.

"Merry Christmas," I whisper, and he laughs.

"I'd say this is the best Christmas ever."