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Today is her birthday. Birthdays aren't usually anything special in 12 and, if it's turning 12, it's usually something to dread. The only birthday Katniss has ever cared about was 19 and she's not there yet. Instead, she's turning 18 today and if nothing had ever changed, she would be lining up for the Reaping for her last time this year. She'd have so many names in the ball that she'd be bound to be picked but Katniss likes to think she'd be lucky. After all, she made it to sixteen without ever getting Reaped, didn't she?

It had been Prim who was Reaped that year, Prim who only had one name in the ball and had the best shot out of any kid in the Seam to never get Reaped. Prim, for whom Katniss had sacrificed everything.

On her birthday, Katniss always thinks of Prim. She thinks about how Prim always made it a point to give her something on her birthday even if she didn't have the resources that Katniss had. Somehow magically, there was good flint for starting fires or a little tinder box. Her boots got patched or there was good, pliable wood for new arrows. Prim always managed to make something out of nothing.

Today, so she doesn't think about Prim, Katniss decides to work. She's taking orders in the dining room, bussing tables, working back in the kitchen. Anything to keep her hands and mind busy so that homesickness doesn't threaten to eat her from the inside out. It's always been the mental things she's struggled with. She can deal with pain, hunger, death but she never, ever has been able to deal with thinking about just how much she misses her sister each and every day.

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The grin that Katniss' teasing gets out of him is just this side of a laugh. That she's comfortable enough to joke with him is a good thing. He wants to put her at ease, both in this situation and in every situation.

"You've caught me," he tells her, looking up at her, grin still in place. "What are you going to do with me now?"

"Probably kiss you some more," she admits easily enough. "But if there is a surprise, I'm going to have to see it."

Oh that gets a huge grin out of him. "All right then, go ahead and get out, put something on. I'll get out when you say it's clear and you can turn your back. You'll get your surprise, we'll eat and then we can swim some more if you like."

Katniss grins right back. "You don't have to turn around if you don't want to. It's just you. I don't care if you see."

She cares, of course, but not because she doesn't want him to see her. More to the point, she does want him to see her.

He takes a deep breath at that and nods. He understands. He's never minded if Katniss sees him, but he gets that this is a step forward for her, something more important than her words convey.

"Okay," he answers, more for confirmation's sake than anything. "Me either. I mean, you don't have to turn your back when I come out of the water either. If you don't want to."

"We can both look," she says, equal parts nervous and excited about that. Her heart is beating quickly, like some tiny bird, and she thinks if she were a bird, a hunter's arrow would have found her by now.

"Weirdly, I'm nervous."

Peeta shook his head at Katniss. "You shouldn't be. I think you're beautiful covered in bug bites, blisters and gray goo. Two pigtails or one. I always have."

But, his heart is beating just as quickly and he swallows thickly. "I understand though. I am too."

Nervous, he means.

"Nice to know that the standards are so low," Katniss teases. Her voice is warm and her smile is wide, wider than she thinks she's ever smiled before. Peeta tends to bring that out in her.

"I think you're beautiful too. Inside and out."

He ducks his head, chuckling. "My standards in women have never been low." They've been Katniss, and no one except Katniss has ever measured up. It's a gorgeous smile and one that he hopes ot see even more of in the future.

He's actually going to color pink at the compliment. "Thank you," because he's not sure what else to say to that.

"Your standards in women are basically me and I don't know whether to count that as a compliment or suggest you get checked out," Katniss teases back. "Because, really, I don't think you've ever seriously considered anyone else."

That's a little overwhelming. For herself, she'd always imagined she'd end up with Gale. He's from the Seam, like her, and town kids and Seam kids don't ever mix. But the Games had changed that and there's something about Peeta Mellark that she feels a kinship with that nobody else, even Gale, can touch.

He chuckles a little at that. "I dated Delly Cartwright for a couple of weeks long before the Games." To make Katniss jealous. He doesn't think she ever noticed. He'd broken up with Delly once he realized that his plan wasn't going to work. They'd remained friends. No, he hasn't ever seriously considered anyone else, and he doesn't want to. He never has.

He knows that, to a degree, but there's not much he can do about it. He's not willing to lie to her or make up other relationships, crushes or love interests. He is willing to wait until it's not so overwhelming, until she makes a decision, and if it's not him, he loves her enough to hope that she's happy, which might seem very mature, but he's watched his dad do the same thing his entire life with Katniss' mother.

He will always be thankful for the Games because of that. They made Katniss notice him. They forged a bond that no one else can understand, and while he's aware that sometimes that's a curse, right now it feels like a blessing.

"Okay, I'm gonna get out, put some pants on and set up your surprise." He takes a few steps backwards, until the water is at his waist before turning his back to Katniss to get out of the water.

"I never even knew," Katniss says softly. She feels slightly guilty about that, not knowing something important in Peeta's life, but she never knew and she wonders what else there is about Peeta that she simply doesn't know.

"But I guess I know now, right? You'll just have to tell me all your secrets."

Once he's out of the water, he goes straight for his pants, pulling them on before he turns to face Katniss again, doing them up as he speaks.

"Okay," he says with a nod. "You can ask me anything you. I'll give you an honest answer."

He doesn't make the same deal with her. Katniss is a private sort of person, and he knows that. She's had enough of her secrets splashed around for the world to see. If she wants to tell him her secrets, he'll be more than happy to listen to them, and even ask questions.

"How about starting with this surprise of yours?" Katniss thinks this is easy enough, since Peeta had planned to share the surprise anyway. She's had enough of having her secrets displayed for everyone to see and she bets Peeta is too. Anything he wants to tell her, she wants him to divulge it out of his own free will and not because she wheedled it out of him.

"That's a pretty safe place to start."

He grins at that and nods, reaching into the basket he'd brought and fishing out a small box. He rattles it at her. Inside the box is a delicate silver necklace. "You're going to have to come get it though," he teases her

Peeta wants to talk to her, to tell her things about himself, to talk to her about everything. He doesn't want to have secrets with Katniss so he'll gladly tell her everything. He wants that sort of close relationship with her.

Edited 2014-08-28 03:25 (UTC)

Katniss rolls her eyes but it's all playful. She's actually enjoying the idea that she can spend an afternoon uninterrupted with Peeta and not have anyone clamoring after her for details about it. She reaches for the box and opens it slowly, wanting to savor it. This is one of the few presents she's ever received in her life that didn't have strings attached.

"Oh...oh, Peeta," she says, touching the necklace lightly. "This is way too fragile for someone like me. I might break it."

It's an unexpected pleasure, this time alone and even more unexpected that it can remain theirs. They've so few moments that are private. He watches her, butterflies in his stomach. Yes, he's given her gifts before, but they reeked of the arena. This is the first thing he'd given her that's entirely untouched by the Games.

He shakes his head at Katniss' protest. "No. You're not going to break it, and if you do, we'll get it fixed." He bites his bottom lip, watching her a moment. "Would you like me to put it on you?"

"Yeah, I would." This seems like more than just a simple gift and Katniss isn't quite sure what more leads into but she guesses it's all right. She'll figure it out as she goes.

He takes the necklace from her, draping it across her collarbone and bringing the ends of it around.

"Lift your hair for me," he says softly, his breath against her bare shoulder.

Katniss gathers her hair up and puts it over her shoulder. It's still wet, so it's heavy, but it's no trouble to hold it out of his way while he puts the necklace on her.

He fumbles a moment with the necklace, fingers not used to working such delicate things, but after a moment it's clasped. He rests his hands against the back of her neck a moment before he nods then pulls back a little.

"Turn around?"

He'd like to see it on her.

Katniss turns around and smiles. It's a little shy and awkward, the way she always feels when it's real and not for the cameras. She isn't so good at this, the one on one, and feels more comfortable with a bow in her hand than a smile on her face.

He likes that smile because it is real. It seems more like the Katniss he's come to know in the middle of the night with the nightmares, the Katniss he knows from years of watching her from afar.

"Are you hungry? I brought some cheese buns and some cold cuts."

"Now, you know I will do anything for cheese buns," Katniss says. It's no real secret that they're her favorite and even the few times she's tried to make them herself, her own are a poor imitation of Peeta's.

"How is it that you're so good at this stuff? I'm terrible at anything that doesn't have to do with killing things."

"Anything, huh?" he teases her. "I might have to hold these cheese buns for ransom in that case." She's getting better. He's had a good deal more practice than she.

He shrugs a little. glancing sideways at her before he decides to actually try and explain his theory on it. "You learned how to kill things because it was what you had to do to survive. I learned how to use words because it's what I had to do. My mother has a temper; she gets angry easily, but if I could use words to soothe her then my brothers and I were safe."

He pauses. "As for the relationship stuff, I think you just have to realize that all of this is possible, and you want it. It gets easier after that."