Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 32: Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen

Usually, the slightest change in the light would wake up Y/N. She rose with the dawn, and that's how she'd always been.

However, Chris' heavy curtains blocked out almost all outside light, and the change in the brightness of the room was nearly imperceptible. Dawn never reached inside of Chris' bedroom. Y/N slept in for once in her life.

She woke in a daze, wondering where she was, why her legs were sore, why she was so tired. It came back in pieces.

She remembered getting the life fucked out of her. She remembered pizza on the High Line. She remembered coming back to Chris' apartment.

Regaining her bearings, Y/N looked around the room. She was definitely still in Chris' room. But Chris was missing. This was starting to feel all too familiar.

The bed next to her was cool to the touch, so he hadn't just left. Again, Y/N tried to take stock. What had woken her in the first place?

The smell of pancakes.

She scooted off the bed and found her underwear on the floor at the foot. She put them back on and snatched the sheets to wrap around herself. These have to be washed anyway, Y/N justified to herself as she let the bedding drag behind her.

Y/N crept out of the bedroom and saw Chris not on the couch but in the kitchen. He was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, which seemed like inadvisable cooking attire. Not that she was complaining. Though, she would be upset if a culinary accident marred his perfect physique. That was something the world should not be deprived of.

"Good morning," she called from the bedroom doorway.

Chris turned, spatula in hand, and grinned. "Indeed it is. How did I wake up before you?" On top of the fact that he was barely dressed, his hair was a wreck. There were faint dark circles beneath his eyes, evidence of a night well-spent.

"An interesting turn of events," Y/N remarked. She walked out into the main space of the apartment and started plucking pieces of her clothing off the floor. She reassembled the outfit from the previous day and sat at one of the barchairs that lined the kitchen island.

"I was digging the sheet look. Oh well. Pancakes, as requested." Chris sat down a plate of pancakes in front of her. "Syrup? Butter? Jam?" Before she could answer, Chris placed anything anyone could possibly want to put on a pancake in front of her.

"Thank you," Y/N said, as she arranged the pancakes to her liking. She cut a piece off and ate it, pleasantly surprised. "I didn't realize you could cook."

"Didn't we make breakfast together at the cabin?" Chris asked, back turned to her as he set to work on his own breakfast.

"I guess so. Wasn't really all that focused on your cooking at the time."

"I hope it was because you were too astonished by my skills in the bedroom."

"More like distracted by Mary describing how awfully you were behaving to Daisy."

"Hm." Chris sat next to Y/N with his own plate. He stayed silent as he fixed up his pancakes. The quiet felt charged; Y/N waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Speaking of Mary," Chris began, overly casual. "We ought to talk with her." He punctuated his sentence with a jab of his fork, and aggressively took a bite of his breakfast.

"I agree."

"But actually talk to her this time." Chris wasn't looking at Y/N, and she felt like that was deliberate.

"Agreed," she replied again, but there was a questioning edge to her voice.

"And soon."

"Agreed." Y/N thought that she'd been pretty clear about feeling like shit for keeping Mary in the dark. She wasn't about to make that same mistake twice.