Katniss Everdeen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stillplaying) wrote2012-08-19 01:01 pm
stillplaying) wrote2012-08-19 01:01 pm
Entry tags:
7th Game [action/voice]
[Action]
[The bakery is a mess. She never meant for it to end up that way. It just sort of happened. Flour covering hair and body, the smell of something burning from the kitchen, flecks of pink frosting teasing her cheeks. Peeta's normally presentable window displays are less than ideal; a poor attempt at recreating the alluring cakes that always caught her attention back in District Twelve. The frosting's melted from the summer heat on one that's sat out since Friday. Another is poorly covered with a grey color -- an attempt at mixing food dyes gone horribly wrong.
Ingredients for various baked goods have somehow escaped the kitchen, piled up on the counters, half covering the note cards Peeta had left for her. Cookbooks borrowed from the library lie open elsewhere, pages now far from pristine. Half baked pretzels stock the shelves along with burnt chocolate chip cookies. Deformed cheese breads and crumbled brownie bites still in their trays sit nearby. Even Buttercup, easily pleased by any free food, ignores the easy pickings.
She tried. She had tried so hard. Peeta had left her recipes. Had tried to teach her how to bake on lazy days when she was more content to spend time with him in the bakery than go about her own thing. It seems that every lesson has been forgotten. Any skill she might have had in the kitchen, utterly gone.
The rain pours outside as she plucks at the rock hard shortbread cookies she's recently retrieved from the oven, trying her best to peel them from the tray. It's a halfhearted effort as she leans her head against her hand and stares out the window. She'd rather be hunting. But it's been raining ever since Peeta left for his mission, raining so hard, all she's been able to do is check a couple of the traps in the river behind their house. And she had promised, hadn't she? Promised she'd look after the bakery?
Look how miserably she failed, the worry making it hard to breathe, harder to concentrate. Shouldn't he be back by now? Shouldn't he?
Every few minutes, she checks the journal for signs of life. Ignores Buttercup begging for real food. Glances at the door to see if Peeta's finally return. No luck. No luck at all. He's supposed to be back today. Why isn't he back yet?]
[Voice]
Why do you bother? [The words aren't meant to be recorded in the journal, but they are, anyway. It barely processes to Katniss that she's left it laying open, close enough to pick up any mutterings.] Going on these missions? Being a piece in their games?
It's stupid. This is all stupid.
[ooc: timed to after mission is over, when people start arriving home. but if you want to tag during -- feel free to have katniss in the bakery making a mess from friday on!
also, edit for warning of sexual content in the Peeta thread.]
[The bakery is a mess. She never meant for it to end up that way. It just sort of happened. Flour covering hair and body, the smell of something burning from the kitchen, flecks of pink frosting teasing her cheeks. Peeta's normally presentable window displays are less than ideal; a poor attempt at recreating the alluring cakes that always caught her attention back in District Twelve. The frosting's melted from the summer heat on one that's sat out since Friday. Another is poorly covered with a grey color -- an attempt at mixing food dyes gone horribly wrong.
Ingredients for various baked goods have somehow escaped the kitchen, piled up on the counters, half covering the note cards Peeta had left for her. Cookbooks borrowed from the library lie open elsewhere, pages now far from pristine. Half baked pretzels stock the shelves along with burnt chocolate chip cookies. Deformed cheese breads and crumbled brownie bites still in their trays sit nearby. Even Buttercup, easily pleased by any free food, ignores the easy pickings.
She tried. She had tried so hard. Peeta had left her recipes. Had tried to teach her how to bake on lazy days when she was more content to spend time with him in the bakery than go about her own thing. It seems that every lesson has been forgotten. Any skill she might have had in the kitchen, utterly gone.
The rain pours outside as she plucks at the rock hard shortbread cookies she's recently retrieved from the oven, trying her best to peel them from the tray. It's a halfhearted effort as she leans her head against her hand and stares out the window. She'd rather be hunting. But it's been raining ever since Peeta left for his mission, raining so hard, all she's been able to do is check a couple of the traps in the river behind their house. And she had promised, hadn't she? Promised she'd look after the bakery?
Look how miserably she failed, the worry making it hard to breathe, harder to concentrate. Shouldn't he be back by now? Shouldn't he?
Every few minutes, she checks the journal for signs of life. Ignores Buttercup begging for real food. Glances at the door to see if Peeta's finally return. No luck. No luck at all. He's supposed to be back today. Why isn't he back yet?]
[Voice]
Why do you bother? [The words aren't meant to be recorded in the journal, but they are, anyway. It barely processes to Katniss that she's left it laying open, close enough to pick up any mutterings.] Going on these missions? Being a piece in their games?
It's stupid. This is all stupid.
[ooc: timed to after mission is over, when people start arriving home. but if you want to tag during -- feel free to have katniss in the bakery making a mess from friday on!
also, edit for warning of sexual content in the Peeta thread.]
[action]
[Good. Giving. Perfect. Everything she isn't.]
...amazing. I should've done more.
[action]
[He feels like his bones are all melting into goo, and he will seep into the mattress. He already feels like he's sinking in further and further, as every muscle in his body relaxes.]
[action]
Next time.
She grins softly and places a small kiss against his shoulder bone. Next time.]
Peeta? [She murmurs his name sleepily, snuggling against him.] It's real. All of this? It's real.
[action]
[action]
And then, almost completely inaudible:]
Love you, too.
[action]
Really?
[action]
It's clear who that is, isn't it? Even if she hadn't meant to say the words aloud, even if she's not a hundred percent certain that she knows what love is, she does know that. The person she couldn't survive without. And it has nothing to do with extending her longevity. Nothing at all.]
Yeah. [She can't look away. She wants to, but she can't.] I think so.
[action]
He'll take it.]
[action]
There are no nightmares that night. No dreams of lost children or mutts. She sleeps soundly, head pillowed against Peeta's chest, on arm draped over his stomach. Exhausted and at peace for the first time since arriving in Luceti.]
[action] The next morning.
Lazily, he thinks about making her breakfast. The trouble is, she's lying on his arm. If he shifts, he'll wake her up, and waking up Katniss when she looks like this is a crime. Besides, he has to spend every second possible watching her sleep. She looks, for once, completely content. There's no restlessness to her slumber, no fitful tossing. Just his girl, sleeping like an infant. Their legs are still tangled, and his hand is asleep, but he's not moving.]
[action]
But this morning, she sleeps in. Even when the sunlight teases her eyes, she tries to hide her head. She nuzzles his chest in the process, one hand sleepily reaching out to tug his arm on to her head. Anything to block the sun. She doesn't want to awaken, not yet.]
[action]
[action]
Thank you.
[The words are mumbled, betraying her attempt at stealing a few more minutes of rest.]
[action]
Go back to sleep.
[action]
Why aren't you asleep?
[action]
[action]
[action]
[action]
Nerves dance in her stomach like butterflies. She needs to think of something else, think of anything but yesterday or she'll be bright red all over.]
Did you sleep okay?