Everlark + 8
“Anything else you want from the grocery?” Katniss called, staring at the forlorn state of their fridge, which proudly sported one bottle of mustard, a carton of milk, some string cheese, and a Tupperware of leftovers neither of them felt brave enough to touch. Really, it was a shame. Katniss loved to cook and her roommate, Peeta, came from a long line of bakers, but the whole quarantine situation had had them surviving on lethargy takeout for some time. Not anymore, she was determined. “I texted you the list.”
She meandered into the living room to find Peeta, in comfortable sweats, typing away at some something he needed to finish for school with an unattended mug of tea beside him. “Hmm?”
“Groceries,” she said, plopping down on the couch beside him, slinging her legs over his, and nodding to his phone.
“Oh, yeah.” He patted her sock foot absently as he read down the list. “Nope. Seems pretty extensive.”
“I’ll be back in a bit.” She hopped up, grabbed her keys and mask, slipped the green patterned cloth over her ears.
“Hey, Katniss?”
“Yeah?”
“Thought of something. If you get the ingredients I’ll make chocolate croissants.”
Katniss quickly added the items to the list. Nothing beat Peeta’s chocolate croissants. Nothing.
“That all?”
“If you wanna get more sparkling water? Oh, and sour cream.”
“Sour cream, demon water, croissant fixings?”
“That’s it.”
“Alright, be back soon,” she said, toeing her slouchy shoes on.
“Okay. Be safe. Love you.”
Katniss paused with her hand on the handle. She frowned, blinked, tried to tell her suddenly racing heart that wasn’t a remotely unusual thing to say to your roomate. Delly said it all the time. But Delly wasn’t her long time best friend ... or her long time crush.
And Peeta’d never said it before.
She rotated on her heel. “What was that?” she squeaked. Peeta seemed not to have noticed.
“Sour cream?” he asked distractedly, eyes focused on the computer.
“Not that. The — uh — love you — part.”
Peeta’s head snapped up. “You what?”
“No, you said it. You said ‘love you.’ Uh — probably just — habit though, yeah? Like I say to Prim.”
“Habit,” he repeated vaguely.
“So — okay — yeah, never mind.” She turned around again quickly, taking a deep breath. “Sour cream. Sparkling water. Croissants. Love you. Bye. Wait, shit!”
She pummeled her fist lightly against the door. “I didn’t mean — ”
“Katniss.” Peeta’s hands on her shoulders turned her around. She must be distracted if she didn’t notice him get up. He stared at her, eyes bright, wide.
“Sorry,” she groaned, pinching her nose. “I read way too much into that, oh my God.”
“No you didn’t,” he said, swallowing nervously and then giving her a warm, hesitant smile. “Sour cream. Sparkling water. Crossiants. Love you.”
She pulled her mask free and dropped her keys to kiss him.
