Fancy

Chapter 6

Katniss

I sit in the back of the Tracker Jacker, counting out tonight's fare. The blue lace lingerie matches the new blue streaks in my hair along with the lipstick and eyeshadow they put on me tonight. I hear footsteps and turn around to see one of the waitresses, Ruby I think her name is, standing there with my things.

"Your ride is here, Miss Fancy," she says and I give her a puzzled look.

"I didn't call a cab yet," I say. "It must be for someone else."

"It isn't a cab," she says. "Just an old pickup. The guy asked for you personally." I sigh as she says that and turn to her.

"Might as well just bring him back here," I say. "I'm gonna be a while and he'll just waste gas waiting in the truck." Ruby nods and leaves. I fold my money together and put it in my purse before gathering up my street clothes to put on. I'm just pulling on my T-shirt as he walks in.

"I thought I told you they don't like boyfriends and they really don't like them hanging around here," I say and Peeta just laughs.

"It's after hours, I doubt Cashmere will mind if I take you out to breakfast," he says and I yawn as he helps me up from my stool. He laughs softly and tucks a strand of blue hair behind my ear. "Or I could just take you home so you can get some sleep."

"You really want to get me into your bed, huh Mellark?" I say smirking and he just shakes his head.

"I'm sure that that would be great for both of us, but that's not what I was really thinking," he says and I feel his hand on my waist. "I was thinking more that you look exhausted and maybe I could finally see what your place looks like." I swallow and shake my head.

"You know I can't do that," I say. "You wouldn't like it."

"Why wouldn't I like it?" he asks.

"You just wouldn't," I say. He shakes his head.

"Maybe I could take you to my place then?" he asks and I tilt my head.

"You'd do that?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says holding out his hand. "The couch pulls out and I'd like you to stay with me." I shrug and follow him out, my blue stilettos clicking on the floor. He opens the door to his truck up for me and I climb in. He hops in the driver's seat and I turn on the radio as he drives away. One of my favorite songs comes on and I start singing along.

"It's your call, It's her
Would you rather take it in the other room
She's hangin' on and so am I
Yeah, I know all about it don't act so surprised

It's time to end this game you're playin'
She's not the only one who's waitin' on the line

It's your call
It's up to you
And I won't try to stop you if you go
But if you stay tell her goodbye
I can't take another minute
I can't stand another night

Of wondering if I even matter
It's something only you can answer
Here's the phone, It's your call

There's no easy way out this time
Cause I won't live this way
She called here to talk to you
With a message that I can't take"

I feel Peeta staring at me and I look at him as the instrumental plays. I smile at him and roll my eyes and take a breath to finish the song.

"Oh, I've got to know if I still matter
It's somethin' only you can answer
Here's the phone, It's your call"

"Wow," he says and I laugh.

"Did I leave you speechless Lover Boy?" I ask and I feel the truck slow down and we pull up in front of a tattoo parlor. The artwork on the outside is beautiful and I smile.

"Maybe, but I just did the same to you," he says and he gets out. He opens my door and helps me out. I look at the neon sign and smile.

"You live here?" I ask and he shrugs.

"In the apartment above, yeah," he says and I smile. "I work here so I get a decent rent."

"You do tattoos?" I ask him, entirely intrigued by his comment as he opens the door and turns on the light, revealing several stations, all surrounded by their artist's sketches. As I walk around, I pick out Peeta's birds and flowers pretty easily. There are even some animals and I smile as I see the stupid, misshapen dandelion I drew one day in art class and left behind in a crumpled ball. I remember him picking it up and handing it to me but I told him it was trash. Here, he had kept it here with him after all this time, framed by his work station.

"Yeah, when I have time," he says. I run my fingers over one of a grey wolf's head, howling. Its truly beautiful. I turn to him.

"Would you give me one?" I ask him. He looks at me with shock and maybe even a little fear.

"You want one?" he asks and I nod.

"Yes," I say. "Would you do it for me?"

"It hurts," he warns and I just laugh.

"I know that Peeta," I say and turn back to the wall. "I'd really like you to put this wolf on my ribs. That is, if you aren't too scared."

"The ribs is one of the most painful," he says and I shoot him a look.

"I'm not afraid," I say and I pull my shirt over my head and look at him. "So are you going to do it or am I gonna have to come back later and have one of your friends do it?" He studies me, as though looking for a shred if uncertainty. When he finds none, he walks over and grabs the picture off the wall and a piece of transparent paper.

"Let me make a stencil," he says.