Drabble Challenge

Day 8

"Imagine your OTP freaking out over a bee in the house."

The cold spray of the shower feels heavenly against my sweaty skin, and it's only just now that those post-run endorphins are starting to kick in. I smile to myself, never tiring of this feeling.

I let the water run over my body for several extra minutes after washing myself- the environmentalist within me protesting- before I shut it off and towel-dry myself. I make sure to lather up my skin with a thick layer of lotion, then I throw on an outfit and twist my hair up in a towel.

"Hey, Peeta, did you-" I start as I descend the stairs. I'm cut off by a loud shriek.

"Peeta!" I exclaim, skipping the last few steps and leaping down to the landing. "Peeta, are you okay?"

"Fine, fine! I'm okay, Katniss!" he yells back, though his tone suggests otherwise. He screeches again. "Okay, no, I'm not fine, there's a bee in the house, Katniss!"

I can't help it. I crack up.

As I expected, Peeta immediately begins whining. "Katniss, please don't- ah!" He comes rushing into the room, looking utterly terrified, and I just laugh again. "Stop!" he scolds me. "This isn't funny! That's a big-ass bee!"

"Peeta, shut up." I shake my head at him. "If you really want, I'll be a big girl and kill the bee."

"No!" he rushes to stop me. "Don't kill it." At my quizzical look, he continues. "Can you just, like, let it outside or something?"

I just roll my eyes and hunt for the thing. Tucked safely behind me, Peeta tells me it landed on the coffee table. I grab a magazine and roll it up in preparation, but then, as I lean down to peer at the insect, I pull up short.

"That's not..." I curse violently when it takes flight. "That's not a bee, Peeta; that's a fucking wasp." I dart out of the room just as Peeta had done moments ago. He's by my side soon after.

"What's the difference?" he asks me. "They're both terrifying."

I shake my head. "Nuh-uh. Bees can only sting once before they die, and it's not very painful. Wasps can sting a bunch of times, and it hurts way more."

He shrugs, but I barely have time to roll my eyes before the wasp is in the room and I'm on my way out. Peeta skitters closely behind, and I head up the stairs, hoping the stupid insect doesn't follow.

I find myself in the closet in our room, and Peeta shuts the door behind us. When he flicks on the light, I find the same terror in his expression as I'm sure is in mine.

Suddenly, we're both cracking up.

After about a half an hour in the closet, I fall asleep with my head on Peeta's lap, his deft hands loosening the knots in my wet hair and pulling through the strands. His ministrations are soothing, and I wake some time later to his soft snores.

I chuckle again at our situation, but stop quickly when Peeta stirs. He smiles at me sleepily, and our forced proximity causes a heat in my core.

Thank God for that wasp.