A/N: Most of this is just fluff... and not all accurate. But it was fun doing it. I got it from a thing I saw on tumblr and couldn't resist trying it with my favorite couple. Hopefully you like it. Thanks for reading, sorry for typos. Reviews are great.. and if you guys are wanting more, send me a list of words to go off of and I'll do them. -Taryn(:
(By the way, most of them are run ons, but oh well..)
Her head was spinning a little, the medicine they gave her for the depression always did that – until she got sick and wanted to fall in bed for a whole new reason – and he notices the way her lips part, drawing in the sweet bakery air, and he wants to thank her, for getting out of bed anyway.
There were kisses and then there were her kisses, the kind that made his heart pound and his skin sear, the ones where she would open her mouth to his in a sweet, numbing wetness or those brief times when she let her lips just barely brush over his skin.. a soft caress of flesh, that healed his hurts better than medicines, so he can't help but grin when he sees her pick up little Dandelion and kiss the scrapped palm, knowing there was nothing that could have made it better.
At night, when she is long asleep, he likes to trace those ruined, ravished tattoos of pink and red across her shoulders and collarbones and wonder to himself, just how skin so damaged and once painful to her could be as soft as the downy petal of a dandelion.
She winces every time Dany leans over something too tall and flinches if their toddling boy gets too close to the open oven or the hunting knifes that are left out on the counter... sometimes she'll even yell at them, and he has to stand back and wince, too, as they stare up at her with wide, oblivious eyes and begin to cry.
The day was a long hard one and he just wants to go home, lie down and close his eyes, but instead he finds the house warm, and she is there, cooking dinner, hair still mused from sleep and grey steely eyes unwavering on the potatoes she's peeling in the sink.. and it is the fact that she has roused herself from the land of the dead that makes him pull off his jacket and take up a place next to her, peeling potatoes like an old married couple.
She always thinks of him when it rains; the soft prattling sound it makes against the roof waking her in the middle of the late day and she rolls over, one hand stretching and seeking out his warmth, only to find the sheets cold and void, but he's at work, and she knows and she is outside, soaked, hair tickling the back of her neck as she pushes the door to the bakery entrance open, smiling shyly when his bewildered blue eyes find hers.
He had a weakness for beauty, she knew, and a love for sweets, and on his twenty-third birthday she arced into him as his tongue swiveled about the sensitive skin of her hip bone, then rolled up the length of her ribcage and sucked away the last dregs of melted chocolate dripping between the valley of her breasts.
She always thought she'd never be happy again, not after the war, not after losing everything she ever cared about, but when he finishes painting a picture of a tree, the roots deep in the grassy sward and strong branches bearing the weight of lush greenery, she thinks he's infectious, like the tree roots, taking origin inside her body and making her strong again, happy, even.
He is so pleased with himself for getting her back in the woods that she thinks he's about to burst from his seams by the splitting grin on his face.. and she almost wishes he would ask her to do something else, so she can make him beam at her, with that child-like pleasure and glowing eyes, all over again.
It was only suppose to be a day, he was supposed to come back after he went to District 4 to visit Annie, twenty-four hours, tops, but he is still gone and she paces by the telephone, and Haymitch watches her with unconcerned, blood-shot eyes, as she dials and redials and hangs up over and over again.. until the shrill cry of the telephone rips apart her nerves and she is breathless once she presses it against her ear.
He would flinch every time she got too disciplined with their children and she knew why, but even after an argument he is too scared to let it go and so she's picked up the habit of flicking them behind the ear... and she knows she's gone soft when instead of hitting the infuriating Haymitch who has just insulted everything that is her new life and her home, she ends up flicking him on the ear.
11: Name (pre-dates all the books)
He knows it's stupid, and that she'd thinks it's stupid, but he can't help and wish it were her who came into the shop every once and awhile and called him "Peet" or "Peety" like Delly and all the other town girls do.
There were times that neither of them felt anything and were numb with their pain, but when she would welcome him into the bed and kiss him to life or he would caress her breasts, a strange sensual flair awakened in their bellies that made her weak in the thighs and him light of heart.
There was one thing that made her break more than anything when he begged for kids, and it was a word she had once feared, don't you want to give back? he had asked her, we can make life amongst all this death... and that five lettered word sunk inside her mind until she looked up at him, startled to find herself sure, and nodded.
Haymitch laughs at them whenever they feign innocence, the boy's ever telling blush putting a shot straight through her scowl.
She's old and he's older, and they are at the third meeting they had to attend in the boring conference room of the New Justice Building this month, and it has been so long that she can almost not believe it when she feels a hand snaking under the table, between her thighs, and the touch of his fingers flat against her center makes her gasp aloud, then rush out a breathless excuse to the politicians within the room that all had turned to stare.
He doesn't want to hate her, and he vows never to hurt her, not again.. but it is a weakness inside him that taints him and he is incapable to hold out on the darkness sometimes, but she stands in the room with him, no matter how loud he yells or flings pots and pans at her, and she sends the kids to Haymitch so she can stay there all day long, until he eventually, exhausted, falls to the floor and cries because really, he hates himself the most.
He was always better at handling tears than she was, and she knows it, so when Annie comes to visit and is crying and sobbing and carrying on, she shouts for Peeta.. but instead of escaping the turmoil, he grabs both of them and hugs them, shushes them.. and she almost believes she should start crying, too.
The day of her mother's funeral passes in a blur; the day's seconds tick by faster than any day of her life previously.. her head is spinning as she stands over the hole of the grave and the coffin stares up at her and she feels like she's falling, fast and far and breathless... back to that awful place Prim once brought her to, but then she feels his hand slip into hers and she is shocked at just how quickly everything levels out again.
He always says it is the wind against the window that wakes him up at night, but she knows that it is nightmares, even if he doesn't scream or thrash like she does.. she knows it is not the wind and when she finds him shivering in the night, wide awake, she turns over and hugs him closer, telling him that she wishes the wind would just shut up.
He asks her is she will stay with him, and when she looks up, confused in the eyes, pink in the face, wondering what he means, he collects her into his arms, hand cupping her head to tip her face up towards his and asks her again.
He never gets what she means when she gives her opinions of his drawings, and it's always the same thing.. she'll look it over, place a hand against her cheek, look frightened or dazed or upset, and then say, it's so full of life.
When the kids go off to school she gives them each a kiss on the lips, nose, and temple before sending them on their way, but when she turns her head and catches his eyes on her, she realizes something, and goes to his side, kisses his lips, nose, and temple then waves until he is completely out of sight just for extra measure.
Her hands shake when she wakes from nightmares and he always pulls those to his lips first, kissing them until their trembling stop, because really, all he can think about is how steady they are, how they level an arrow in a bow, or cut away the innards of her most recent kill with the utmost precision, or swathe little Dandelion in a plush blanket, fingertips as gentle as a lamb's nose, and for them to be shaking scares him more than the screaming does.
She licks away the sweet juices of the peach on her lips, and he reaches a hand to her face, says she missed some, brushes her cheek softly, then places the thumb against his own lip, blue eyes smiling at her.
Even when he throws her out of the house or the bakery or where ever his newest place of isolation is and he tells her to join the kids at Haymitch's house, she refuses the request and sits through rainstorms, and all through the night, head resting against the door, every so often calling his name softly through the wood, asking if he's better now.
The way he talks about their life, sitting in that damned lounge chair on the back porch, his white hair falling over his blue eyes boyishly and his laughlines crinkling with his smiles, she almost believe it when he takes her paper-weak hand into his and promises her that they'll live forever.
Blood never bothered her before, but she starts panicking at the sight of her daughter's cut and throws herself into such a hysteric that Peeta runs home from the bakery at their son's insistence and he finds her curled up in the upstairs bathtub, stroking Dany's hair, vowing that she won't ever let their children play soccer again.
Just a cold, Haymitch gruffed at them three days ago, she remembers vividly, they were in the kitchen, the children were eating dinner and Haymitch had come by asking for some spare alcohol, but she refused him, told him he needed real fluids... but now... she sinks into the edge of the mattress, hands covering her face, Peeta wrapping an arm around her waist, as she recalls the last three days of Haymitch's life, spent in withdrawal, shaking, pained.. and she cries because he deserved better.
Like him little Dandelion always loved to draw, but he is surprised one day when he finds their son playing a string instrument and the meanderings of it is so sweet and melodic that he turns to his wife and smiles sheepishly, because now both of them are more him than her.
30: Star (this one is a bit stale)
The first time they asked her to tell them a bed time story she told them something about a goat and a girl.. but they kept asking day after day and her stories ran short, because she always tried to tell them about dogs and hunters and archers and flowers.. then one night she finds him in there, telling them a tale of great love and she bursts in, upset, because she didn't want them to be the type of children who dreamed of things like star-crossed lovers and romances.
She knows she's home when she can smell cheese buns in the oven, hear the loud clanking of his footsteps, and feel his lips press lightly into the back of her neck, then he'll take her hunting jacket to hang by the door and offers her dinner.
He doesn't like it when she takes baths with him because he has to sit there and stare at the stump that is the end of his thigh... so he feels embarrassed when he cannot find the right purchase to lift her up and kiss her, but she must have seen it in his eyes for she suddenly slides off of him, onto her knees, and cups the sides of his hip, lowers her lips and kisses up the length of his stump just as tenderly as she had his mouth.
The fear of losing him drives her insane sometimes, so much so that she feels like it is only a matter of time before she becomes her mother and she wants to hit something, lash out, but then he comes home from the bakery, a nice, safe job.. and pats their kid's heads and smiles blindingly at her.. and the fear seems to loosen its breathless hold.
Her hands are shaking so much with anger when she write the reply to Gale's letter that the lines come out jagged, like lightning blades, and he comes up from behind her, encasing her hand in his and guides her through the words.
35: Bonds (stale, too)
It is a late afternoon and it is raining and she seems to be talking more than usual, but he is quiet, listening and sitting crisscrossed on the floor behind her as the thunder shudders outside their bedroom window and he can't take his eyes off the tumbled, twisted bond of her braid, until the longing is too much and he buries his hand within the tresses, smiles, and tells her to continue talking.
He goes to the market with her sometimes, but he knows the people are afraid of him, the man who went insane... yet they love her and he knows she loves them, so he always finds an excuse once they get there to separate, and watches her from behind one of the shops as she gets hugs and smiles and laughs that she would not have received if he were at her side.
When she finds out that the school is having a field trip, traveling by hovercraft, she refuses to let their children go and he tries to talk her out of that kind of thinking, that they need to know, that it will happen someday, that times are changing and not just monsters fly in the sky, and she breaks after he tells her an hour long tale of how the stars are up there, and the mockingjays, too, and that it is a once in a life time chance.
For her forty-seventh birthday he gives her a picture of himself, when he was young, and she blinks at in bewilderment until he explains that he wanted her to remember him that way for later, tonight, while he's giving her the real gift.
It seemed almost just like him, natural, that while she was crying and barely pulling through, he had a smile tracing across lips that were already going cold as she cradled his old, wrinkled face in her lap, waiting for the strength he had promised her she would find so she could call the funeral home.
Deep down he was always better than her, she knew that, but one night, when their son of three whispers a confession of fear for his daddy it breaks her heart, and she wants to keep it from him, yet she finds him anyway, tells him about it and rocks him as he cries into her shoulder, weeping tears of innocent, earnest pain.
There is a certain kind of pain that only loss can give and as she sits in the middle of the forest against the base of an oak tree with her bow in her hands, she wishes she had a gun again, like those days in the Capitol, but she doesn't.. not even the pill Cinna had designed to put in her suit.. no, she has only the bow and it isn't quite so simple shooting herself in the eye as it was a squirrel.
She entertains his imaginings about the shapes of bunnies and horses and castles in the clouds as they lay in the meadow, but all she can think is about the rain that they're going to bring, and chooses to keep that pessimistic piece of herself locked away.
He's started to notice she is more willing to go outside or to the market on rainy days than the sunny ones and it seems odd at first, but then he realizes that she's depending on the rain to scare away the life in District 12, so every time she goes he splashes in puddles, lets the rain soak his clothes underneath his jacket and laughs at her when she scowls and turns her head away.
They are all drunk and Haymitch is arguing with him about the means of what happens after someone dies and she listens with half-interest, until he turns to her, frustrated with the old man's lack of optimism and demands her opinion, but she merely just tells him she hates the word heaven, because it reminds her of Heavensbee.
Their daughters first curse word comes from Haymitch, and it is one that makes him wince, because he didn't want her to think about what eternal damnation meant, but he explains the word to her anyway, even when her mother stands in the background shaking her head at him in wonderment.
Sometimes she imagines that his fingers running across her flesh, ghosting against her face, whisking past her breasts and down her belly, is sunlight, leaving a patch of warm, tingling skin in his wake.
She tries not to make a fool of herself when their children come to the dinner table explaining that the moon is the thing that controls the ocean, and while she eats quietly, pretending she'd known, he is leaning closer to the seven and ten year old, asking a million questions.
Their bodies move together as opposites, just like their personalities, so while his tongue runs up the length of her neck she is bucking against his hips, trying to get on top, but his hands around her waist are fighting for the same stake... the two of them wrestling themselves into a blur of waves, rocking together with abandonment.
The twilight is silhouetting her against the sky and he aches to touch her, wants to stand next to her, but he knows that she doesn't want to be disturbed and so he sits heavily in the grass, eyes dazed, watching her pace along the edge of the wilderness that just barely leans forward to kiss the gate of District 11.
(This last one is in need of an explanation; Basically, Katniss was sick of being tapped in District 12 and the two of them escaped to the wilderness. With Peeta unable to resist her, he agrees to travel somewhere, even though it is against her sentence, and when they finally reach the nearest place, she is at a conflict... and Peeta is just too happy to do anything but lazily stare at her... I guess.)