victorbychance | Fifth Painting: Action/Voice

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Fifth Painting: Action/Voice

[Action locked to Katniss:]

[Katie must have been interrupted, even if Peeta wasn't.

The first thing he notices is the headache. It pierces from his eyes to the back of his head, and he winces. After a second, he stirs and groans.]

[Voice, a while later:]

Hi. Sorry I've been out for a while. Did someone keep the bakery open?

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[Her arms curl tighter around him, as if that action alone would erase the past few weeks. His painting is important, yes. He bakes and paints. She hunts. Haymitch drinks. It's a way for them each to cope with everything they've gone through.

But it's not supposed to be like this. Not supposed to cause harm.

She wipes a stray tear from her face and shakes her head.] But you're better now, right? You're better.

Completely better. [He wraps his arm around her again, trying to sit up without letting go.] Just a headache. Are you okay?

[Noting quickly what he tries to do, she carefully helps him into a sitting position. Katniss rolls herself to the other side of the bed so she could sit next to him, pillows propped up behind both their wings for comfort.

Her eyes narrow at his question and for a moment, she scowls at him. It's a stupid question. Is she okay? She hasn't been the one asleep for weeks on end.]

I'm fine. Can I get you anything? I should get you something.

[He leans back on the pillows, propped up halfway.] Water.

[She should've thought it through. Water. His throat must be so dry. The feeding tube set up had helped her keep him nourished these past few weeks but she's hated using it. Hated the way it just made him appear even more sickly.

After placing a slight kiss on his forehead, she carefully gets up from the bed.] I'll be right back.

[Peeta rests, squirming a little as he realizes he'd kind of like to stretch. Slowly, he sits up and spends some time getting used to that position. The head rush is pretty intense at first, but mostly gone by the time Katniss gets back.]

[She walks as quickly as she can. Straight to the kitchen where she grabs the nearest cup and fills it with tap water. She begins to head back to the bedroom and then pauses. Food. Food would be good, too.

A couple of minutes after she left, she enters the room again. In one hand, she carries the glass and in the other, a small plate of crackers. She smiles fondly when she sees him sitting up a little more.]

I grabbed some food, too. [She holds up the plate as she approaches the bed.] In case you want to try eating something.

In a few minutes. [He leans back against the headboard and reaches for the water.]

[She won't push it. Instead, she places the plate on the nightstand and takes a seat on the bed beside him. Just close enough so her back abuts his legs. She needs this closeness, being able to touch and to hold on to him.

He's awake. He's really awake.]

I can also make tea. Anything you think you might need, Peeta.

[Slow, slow sips. After a few minutes, a little smile.] I could use a kiss.

[That brings a real smile to her face. She remembers their first kiss. Remembers almost hearing Haymitch's voice in the back of her mind: "You call that a kiss?" That kiss had been the desperate attempt of a girl to beat the odds and get both her and the boy she had arrived in the Capitol with home. Alive. It hadn't meant much then, not to her. The kiss was a ploy to snare the audience's attention.

This kiss isn't.

Her chuckles are muffled as she presses her lips happily and easily against his. Does he know how much she loves him? She hopes so. And does her best to express so in a kiss.]

[It is better than water. He keeps it chaste for now, especially since neither of them really has the energy for anything more vigorous.]

[She smiles against his lips before pulling back enough to rest her forehead against him. It doesn't matter how chaste the kiss had been. He had returned it. He was awake.]

I love you.

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Fifth Painting: Action/Voice

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