#an unedited one so ignore grammar mistakes and misspellings!!??

[katnissmellarkkk]

👀if ur still taking asks... can we get some everlark post mockingjay making up after they have a fight/argument?😅😚

Okay! This is gonna be angsty though because that’s all I’m good at. Just forewarning you 😭😭😭. Also, trigger warning ( tw ) : mentions of hijacking and subsequent shove.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” Haymitch murmurs into my hair, his voice awkward but the intent well meaning. It’s not often he has to comfort me after Peeta storms out of the house, too angry to speak, to hurt to care that I’m pleading on the porch for him to come back like a complete mad woman. “It’s okay, the boy will get over it.”

But I shake my head stubbornly, partially because I don’t want false promises — even good intended ones — that I know the old man can’t keep. And partially because I don’t want to hope that Peeta will come walking through that door, magically over the lie I told.

Even though my heart was in the right place. He has to know that. Peeta has to know that in my heart, I only ever intended to protect him. I only ever wanted him to focus on himself and not be consumed with remorse.

Four days ago, Peeta had the most violent episode he’s had in over four years. It was brought on by a combination of sleep deprivation — as a result of his now franchised bakery opening new stores and the demand now to keep up with the growing business — and the stress of it all. And I suppose, probably the biggest factor of all.

Forgetting to take his medication prescribed by Dr. Aurelius himself.

Of course, no one is perfect and Peeta has definitely forgotten to take his daily pill before. A handful of times over the years, he’s completely forgotten it and been fine. At most, he’s been snippy or cranky or short with me.

But it was a completely different experience four days ago. I walked in our home, having returned from the woods as per usual. But unlike my typical routine, when I entered Peeta was there. A fact that in itself is rare. Peeta always has worked hours after I was done hunting. And if I’m being honest I enjoy that in some ways. We’re two natural loners and we both enjoy our alone time.

But he was there in the living room when I returned four days ago and it was ugly. I can’t even describe what happened or what I said to him but in mere seconds he was screaming at me and ranting like he’d completely lost his mind.

Because he had. It was clear that he wasn’t himself, that it was Snow’s conditioning rearing it’s ugly head and not my loving, kind-hearted, somewhat rude but never cruel or mean husband speaking.

I’d tried to calm him down, the same way I do when he has a terrible flashback. By holding him. By hugging him tight and hanging on until the images passed.

Turns out that method — which, I guess, I thought was somewhat foolproof until now — is far from a one size fits all in this situation.

As exemplified by Peeta calling me a mutt and shoving me away from him. Harder than I anticipated. I barely paid any mind to it at the time — to me, it was rather inconsequential to getting Peeta help before — but looking back now, he had pushed me with more force than I knew to expect and the result was me banging my shoulder on the wall.

All in all, it took about three hours of me and Haymitch, Delly and Thom, Leevy and Sae, all together trying to calm him down enough to take his medicine and a big fat sleeping pill and to just calm down.

I didn’t plan on lying. I didn’t even realize there was any reason to, because it wasn’t for at least twelve hours until Delly came by again, took one look at my shoulder and gasped dramatically.

Evidently the contact with the wall left a mark and evidently it was dark enough that it stood out against my olive skin.

And when Peeta woke up, in tears and physical pain, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the bruise. I couldn’t bring myself to answer his petrified inquiry with anything other than no.

“Katniss, did I hurt you?”

“No, Peeta, of course you didn’t.”

I can’t be as bad of an actress as Haymitch once claimed because Peeta searched my gray eyes as they sparkled with tears and he believed me. He believed I’d be honest with him about the things he can’t even remember.

Apparently though all lies must come out, because Peeta never disturbs me while I’m in the shower ever and for some reason, tonight of all nights, he had the desire to tell me about something funny that happened today and it couldn’t wait ten minutes. I don’t know what and I’ll probably never know because the moment he peeled back the curtain to speak, he saw the bruise on my back and there was no avoiding it then. There was no platitude that I could give, no fib I could feed him, that he’d buy.

The end result was a lot of yelling from both of us — me demanding that he understands why I didn’t want to tell him, that he would have done the same exact thing and he’s completely overreacting. Him claiming he needs to know what he’s done, that he can’t trust me if I won’t be honest with him even when it’s hard, that I always did this, I always lied and claimed it was to protect him. Which was true but that doesn’t mean I didn’t get defensive and infuriated over the accusation.

And then he stormed out. He threw over his shoulder that he would be staying at the apartment above the bakery tonight and wasn’t coming home. Me calling him a coward and then screaming at him not to leave on the porch.

“He’s probably going to divorce me,” I say now, but Haymitch shakes his head definitively. He watched the end of our entire encounter and, to my utter surprise, has remained rather calm about the entire spectacle.

“That kid loves you, sweetheart. More than he’s ever loved anything in his whole life.”

That brings on another round of tears though. “I just wanted to protect him!” My voice sounds like it’s choking, like it did a couple weeks after my reunion with Peeta in Thirteen.

“I know. But you can’t. And you need to stop trying.” I look away defiantly but Haymitch persists. “You can’t protect the boy from everything, Katniss. And you are going to ruin your marriage if you don’t stop trying.”

I’m about to fight with the man who I have considered family for the last five or so years, about to ask what he knows of marriage considering the most serious relationship he’s had since eighteen is the woman from District Three who frequents his house on nights and weekends.

But before I can open my mouth, the front door opens and my husband walks right in.

Haymitch doesn’t even seem to miss a beat, unlike me who scowls right at the broad shouldered blonde in surprise. “Hmm, you finally realize that you already rented out that apartment above the bakery? Or you just hear to grab your sleeping bag and toothbrush?”

“Thank you for coming over, Haymitch. But I’d like to talk to my wife now,” Peeta asserts with a confidence that I begrudgingly find attractive.

To my old mentor’s credit, his arm tightens around me and he asks if I’m okay with him leaving. I nod, because I know Peeta would never hurt me. The person who shoved me off him in his episode four days ago wasn’t Peeta and if I know anything about him at all — and I’m his wife, for crying out loud. I know a lot about the man — he’s going to ensure that it never happens again.

As soon as Haymitch closes the front door behind him, Peeta reaches for my hand. I pull my arm away though before he can make contact, because I’m still too hurt by his abandonment and I’m too petty to forgive as quickly as I probably should.

“Can you come talk to me?” He asks quietly, all of the authority he possessed with Haymitch suddenly eviscerated.

“About?” I murmur, in a slightly sour tone.

But he doesn’t take the bait and instead sighs and cuts to the chase. “I need you to be honest with me, Katniss. At all times. Even when you think you’re protecting me from myself — no, actually, especially when you think you’re protecting me from myself.”

“If this we’re reversed, you know you’d do the exact-“

“But it’s not reversed,” he maintains and I can see in those blue eyes that I love that he’s dead set on this. There really isn’t that many things Peeta gets stuck on but evidently this right here is one of them. “It isn’t reversed and even if you’re right and I did do the same thing, you would be angry right now for the same reason.”

He has me there. I would be mad if he lied, claiming it was for my own good. But I can’t help but argue, “I still wouldn’t run out on you.”

His expression changes then, morphs into something softer. “I know,” he whispers finally and then offers me a half-smile that looks sadder than a frown. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

I shrug and avoid his eyes now, feeling more wounded than I want to admit. His thumb comes up and touches my cheek, swiping away the evidence of my tears. “Hey, this doesn’t work if you won’t talk to me too.”

“I don’t know, Peeta. I just don’t … I don’t …” I take in a deep breath but find my will to continue gone.

“You don’t what?” He prompts quietly, feeding off my every word. Looking so intense, so determined now to fix the gap between us, that I’m angry. I’m angry because I wanted to talk like this hours ago, not after he stormed off and I stewed under the impression that he wasn’t even coming home.

“I don’t let people in,” I blurt out finally, pushing his hand away from my face. I wanted him home but I don’t want his touch right now. It softens me too much. “I don’t let people into my…” I don’t know what word I’m searching for and I’m awful at speaking or articulating or whatever we’re doing now and I just want to disappear at the moment.

But it seems Peeta has a good guess for what I was trying to get at. “Your heart?”

“Yeah. That.” I blink a few times, trying to push the moisture back from eyes. “I don’t let people in and when I do.” I take a deep breath before finally spitting out, “when I do, I trust that they’ll never leave me… and they always do. One way or another.” I can’t stop my eyes from leaking any longer and I don’t have to look at Peeta to know his eyes are soft as butter, staring at me with nothing but compassion now. “I just thought you of all people would understand that.”

I already know what he’s going to do before he does it so I’m fully prepared when he puts his arms around me, lifts me up and sits back down with me in his arms. “Katniss, I didn’t leave you,” he says, but I shrug because it felt like he did. “I will never leave you. Ever. You have to start trusting that eventually.”

Now he’s repeating the same thing Haymitch already said. I really hate when that man is right.

“It’s not easy,” I quietly admit after a moment of silence and feel his lips touch my hair.

“I know it’s not. Trust me, I know that it’s not. But you have to believe me,” he implores, reaching out and picking up my hand for emphasis. “I gave you this ring because I love you and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. Me leaving to cool off is not leaving you and you have to know that.”

I release a breathe I didn’t even realize I was holding and nod, knowing he’s right. “Peeta, I’m sorry I lied to you,” I whisper, because the exchange feels incomplete until I apologize.

His hand moves to where he knows the bruise now lies. “I know what you were trying to do,” he says but his eyes look too sad and I still really wish he’d never found out about this.

I continue though, still needing to get more off my chest. “I didn’t mean to, I just hate seeing you beat yourself up over things you can’t control.”

“I know,” he replies, his voice even. He lightly grabs my chin then, pushing me to make eye contact now. “I know, baby. But you can’t protect me like that. You can’t protect me from me.”

His words cause my chest to ache abruptly, because I know he’s right and I absolutely hate it. I want to protect him from his hijacking. I want to shield him from the aftereffects of the abuse he suffered, because he was in love with me.

Well, actually because I was in love with him.

“I’m not good at that. Watching people I love suffer in pain.” He smirks now and rubs my back in soothing circles.

“Yeah, I know that too.”

I roll my eyes at him before finally relaxing against his chest, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I hate what happened to you,” I whisper, barely audible. But he hears it. He hears it and he presses his lips to my forehead in response.

“So do I. But it’s over now.” Our eyes meet again, blue bleeding into gray and I see a look of acceptance, of resignation in his gaze. “It’s long over and we have to do our best to move on. Or else we’re letting what other people did consume our lives. And then we let Snow win.”

“He’s dead,” I can’t help but murmur.

“So he better not win then.” At that, we both laugh. “I love you,” he whispers softly.

I smile lightly before leaning in and kissing him full on the lips. “I kind of love you too.”

“Kind of?”

“Don’t push it.”

#everlark #yeah idk what this is this went on for a long time but I still hope it satisfies you anon my bestie #😬😬😬😬😬 #drabble #only a really long drabble #this is a oneshot lbr #an unedited one so ignore grammar mistakes and misspellings!!?? #thg #my writing #my drabbles