#cinna and I go on walks together a lot and one time we started talking about if our lives were a show what would it be like

[starcrossedandstupid]

@mystical-cinnamoon !!!

anti rpf people are so funny they're always like "how would you feel if people shipped you with your friend" i don't know how to break it to you but if i was famous and no one was writing fanfiction about me i would be devastated. i wouldn't feel like i made it until i could search my name on ao3 and find 10k+ explicit results. peace and love though

[katnissmellarkkk]

Part Two of my bookcomb for every time Katniss and/or Peeta smiled in relation to the other. This post is all of Catching Fire. They never once smiled at each other in Mockingjay, ever. And yes, I’m bitter.

-

My face breaks into a huge smile and I start walking in Peeta's direction. Then, as if I can't stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips — he still isn't entirely in command of his artificial leg — and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that's where we have our first kiss in months.

-

“Let's start with something more basic. Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine ... but I don't know what your favorite color is?” he says.

A smile creeps onto my lips. “Green. What's yours?”

“Orange,” he says.

“Orange? Like Effie's hair?” I say.

“A bit more muted,” he says. “More like ... sunset.”

-

“Want to see my talent? Cinna did a great job on it.”

Peeta laughs. “Later.” The train lurches forward, and I can see the land moving past us through the window. “Come on, we're almost to District Eleven. Let's go take a look at it.”

-

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch's voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it's impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift ... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn't seem forced at all.

-

Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn't need to check my face to see if I'm serious. “Depends on why you're asking.”

“President Snow wasn't convinced by me. There's an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say.

“By 'we' do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks.

“My family. Yours, if they want to come. Haymitch, maybe,” I say.

“What about Gale?” he says.

“I don't know. He might have other plans,” I say.

Peeta shakes his head and gives me a rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I'll go.”

I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?”

“Yeah. But I don't think for a minute you will,” he says.

-

When we're outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.”

“I'll go with you,” he says.

“No. I've dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him.

“And avoiding a stroll by the Hob ... that's going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. Together we wind through the streets of the Seam until we reach the burning building. They haven't even bothered to leave Peacekeepers around it. They know no one would try to save it.

-

“The slag heap next to the east entrance,” says Prim patiently.

“No. When did you say that?” I demand.

“Last night,” Haymitch chimes in.

“It was definitely the east,” adds Peeta. He looks at Haymitch and they laugh. I glare at Peeta and he tries to look contrite. “I'm sorry, but it's what I've been saying. You don't listen when people talk to you.”

“Bet people told you he didn't live there today and you didn't listen again,” says Haymitch.

“Shut up, Haymitch,” I say, clearly indicating he's right.

Haymitch and Peeta crack up and Prim allows herself a smile.

“Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up,” I say, which makes them laugh more. And I think, This is why they've made it this far, Haymitch and Peeta. Nothing throws them.

-

Finally Peeta says, “That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Center. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon.”

“Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too,” I say. “You know they didn't expect that to happen. It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!”

I can't help laughing, really laughing, for the first time in months. Peeta just shakes his head like I've lost my mind—and maybe I have, a little.

“Almost, but not quite,” says Haymitch from behind us. I whip around, afraid he's going to be angry over us watching his tape, but he just smirks and takes a swig from a bottle of wine. So much for sobriety. I guess I should be upset he's drinking again, but I'm preoccupied with another feeling.

-

I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation of Finnick. “He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets,” I say in my best seductive voice.

Peeta laughs. “Ugh. Not really.”

“Really,” I say. “I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling.”

“Do you think we'd have ended up like this if only one of us had won?” he asks, glancing around at the other victors. “Just another part of the freak show?”

“Sure. Especially you,” I say.

“Oh. And why especially me?” he says with a smile.

“Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don't,” I say with an air of superiority. “They would lure you into their Capitol ways and you'd be lost entirely.”

“Having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.”

-

We end up on the same elevator with her, and she spends the whole ride to the seventh floor chatting to Peeta about his paintings while the light of his still-glowing costume reflects off her bare breasts. When she leaves, I ignore him, but I just know he's grinning. I toss aside his hand as the doors close behind Chaff and Seeder, leaving us alone, and he breaks out laughing.

“What?” I say, turning on him as we step out on our floor.

“It's you, Katniss. Can't you see?” he says.

“What's me?” I say.

[..]

“Yeah, but ... I mean, for the Capitol, you're pure,” he says, clearly trying to mollify me. “For me, you're perfect. They're just teasing you.”

“No, they're laughing at me, and so are you!” I say.

“No.” Peeta shakes his head, but he's still suppressing a smile. I'm seriously rethinking the question of who should get out of these Games alive when the other elevator opens.

-

After training, Peeta and I hang out, waiting for Haymitch and Effie to show up for dinner. When we're called to eat, Haymitch pounces on me immediately. “So at least half the victors have instructed their mentors to request you as an ally. I know it can't be your sunny personality.”

“They saw her shoot,” says Peeta with a smile. “Actually, I saw her shoot, for real, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself.”

-

“You'd have thought we planned it,” says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile.

“Didn't you?” asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light.

“No,” I say, looking at Peeta with a new sense of appreciation. “Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in.”

-

Peeta walks me down to my room in silence, but before he can say good night, I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. His hands slide up my back and his cheek leans against my hair. “I'm sorry if I made things worse,” I say.

“No worse than I did. Why did you do it, anyway?” he says.

“I don't know. To show them that I'm more than just a piece in their Games?” I say.

He laughs a little, no doubt remembering the night before the Games last year. We were on the roof, neither of us able to sleep. Peeta had said something of the sort then, but I hadn't understood what he meant. Now I do.

-

No one bothers us. By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peeta's lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he's practicing his knots. After a while, his hands go still. “What?” I ask.

“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever,” he says.

Usually this sort of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I'll never have, I just let the word slip out. “Okay.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Then you'll allow it?”

“I'll allow it,” I say.

-

I leave my weapons in the dirt as I fling myself at him. “Peeta?” I say softly. I brush the damp blond strands of hair back from his forehead, find the pulse drumming against my fingers at his neck.

His lashes flutter open and his eyes meet mine. “Careful,” he says weakly. “There's a force field up ahead.”

I laugh, but there are tears running down my cheeks.

[…]

I notice a gleam of gold on Peeta's chest. I reach out and retrieve the disk that hangs from a chain around his neck. My mockingjay has been engraved on it. “Is this your token?” I ask.

“Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match,” he says.

“No, of course I don't mind.” I force a smile. Peeta showing up in the arena wearing a mockingjay is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it should give a boost to the rebels in the district. On the other, it's hard to imagine President Snow will overlook it, and that makes the job of keeping Peeta alive harder.

-

Finnick slowly begins to revive. His eyes open, focus on us, and register awareness that he's being helped. I rest his head on my lap and we let him soak about ten minutes with everything immersed from the neck down. Peeta and I exchange a smile as Finnick lifts his arms above the seawater.

-

Finnick and I fall back in the sand, laughing our heads off. Every time we try to stop, we look at Peeta's attempt to maintain a disdainful expression and it sets us off again.

-

Beetee is still messing around the tree, doing I don't know what, taking measurements and such. At one point he snaps off a sliver of bark, joins us, and throws it against the force field. It bounces back and lands on the ground, glowing. In a few moments it returns to its original color. “Well, that explains a lot,” says Beetee. I look at Peeta and can't help biting my lip to keep from laughing since it explains absolutely nothing to anyone but Beetee.

-

Johanna keeps watch while Finnick, Peeta, and I clean and lay out the seafood. Peeta's just pried open an oyster when I hear him give a laugh. “Hey, look at this!” He holds up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls,” he says earnestly to Finnick.

“No, it doesn't,” says Finnick dismissively. But I crack up, remembering that's how a clueless Effie Trinket presented us to the people of the Capitol last year, before anyone knew us. As coal pressured into pearls by our weighty existence. Beauty that arose out of pain.

-

[theartofdreaming1]

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are slowly becoming a proper team! No more secrets! (for the most part)

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 4-6 are below the cut.

heart

Losing that comfort of sleeping in each other’s arms after the Victory Tour must have been hard for Katniss and Peeta! Up until Katniss hurts her ankle, they probably didn’t really do much about it, just trying to make it through on their own... After she hurt her ankle and Peeta’s spending more time over at her place, I can easily imagine him staying over, at least until she’s fallen asleep, which might help a little... Since they are living only three houses apart from each other, I like to imagine that they can see each other’s bedroom windows from their bedroom (how else would Katniss know that Peeta sleeps with the windows open? I can’t really imagine that they would be able to open the windows of the train they were on - y’know, for “safety reasons” (i.e. making sure nobody can escape)); maybe they’d both light a candle and put it by their window, as a signal they are going to sleep... It’s not the same, but it helps a little 

mind

I mean, aside from the systemic rigging of the reaping system (i.e. poorer people generally having more entries, so they can have some food), I can easily imagine there being a manipulation of the “odds” when someone becomes too vocal or troublesome for the local authorities, such as someone trying to unionize a district’s workforce, for example

soul

In the districts, their impact has to be big - their win alone was a huge defiance of the Games as they used to be... sticking together and sticking up for each other ultimately led to them defeating the Capitol’s rules! In-between the Games and the Victory Tour I don’t think there was much noteworthy going on (although maybe the fact that, so far, none of the new victors’ loved ones had been hurt - Prim, Mrs. E., but also Gale and his family would be visible during the celebrations, I’m sure, same probably goes for the Mellark’s - might tell the people in the district that Snow and his cronies were aware of the attention any assassination attempt would gather and that this, in turn, might actually could become the last straw that would spark a revolution. In a way, that was proof that the people on top were at least a little afraid of what the people in the districts would do...) And then, especially during the visit of D11, with Katniss expressing her thanks and Peeta reaching out to share their winnings with the people from D11, another district than their own - it must have provided a lot of inspiration, I’m sure. 

As for the Capitolites, maybe some of them would notice for once how unhappy/riled up the people in some of the districts were... or at least stop to think about how this time, a show of love and companionship actually provided more “entertainment” and intrigue than the brutal gore and bloodshed from previous Games (also, longer lasting - there is actually much more “story” to be had from the star-crossed lovers from D12 than from any individual winner of previous Games, if you think about it... Their “love story” is still on-going, with an upcoming wedding and the promise of a family... it’s still creepy and voyeuristic as hell, though)

Chapter 4

Everything he [Haymitch] said was true about the Capitol’s expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn’t really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. - God, this sucks so much! As Katniss rightly points out, her misery isn’t about Peeta at all - it’s about her (and also his, just pointing that out) agency being taken away! She’s being stripped even of that little sliver of agency that inhabitants of D12 usually have (choice of whom to marry, or whether to marry at all)

I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. - Eugh, just the idea of Snow being the one to have the last word on that subject... 🤢 The invasion of privacy here... - The only person who should get to decide whether Katniss should have children or not is Katniss herself! Period!

My mind searches frantically for a way out. I can’t let President Snow condemn me to this. Even if it means taking my own life. Before that, though, I’d try to run away. - Boy, Katniss is even contemplating taking her own life, rather than to submit to the life the Capitol wants to force on her; it’s not her first choice (she’d rather run away), but it shows the desperation she’s feeling

Could I even manage to take everyone I love with me, start a new life deep in the wild? Highly unlikely but not impossible. - Later we will see that Peeta and Haymitch also belong into the category of “people Katniss loves” 😊(as well as her family, Gale, and his fam, of course)

“And Peeta’s team is probably still asleep.” “Doesn’t he need prepping?” I ask. “Not the way you do,” Effie replies. What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in. I hadn’t thought about it much, but in the arena at least some of the boys got to keep their body hair whereas none of the girls did. - Gotta love that everlasting sexism that, even far into the future, still won’t allow women to have frickin’ body hair (y’know, like most humans do 🙄)

I can remember Peeta’s now, as I bathed him by the stream. Very blond in the sunlight, once the mud and blood had been washed away. Only his face remained completely smooth. Not one of the boys grew a beard, and many were old enough to. I wonder what they did to them. - Katniss seems to have committed every single detail about Peeta to her memory, including how his body hair looked when she cleaned him in the last Games... okay 👀😏 On a more somber note, what is it that the Capitol is doing to these poor kids?! The boys couldn’t grow beards and - I’m assuming - the girls wouldn’t get their periods while in the arena (since the Games can last for weeks, it would be a huge disadvantage if any of the girls also had to content with cramps + periods  - aside from worrying about getting murdered, I mean); it’s such a violation of one’s autonomy over one’s own body, yikes

Flavius tilts up my chin and sighs. “It’s a shame Cinna said no alterations on you.” “Yes, we could really make you something special,” says Octavia. “When she’s older,” says Venia almost grimly. “Then he’ll have to let us.” - Eeek, no thanks!😦 And frankly, it really shouldn’t be Cinna’s call to make but, y’know, Katniss’s!!! I don’t know, I get real panick-y just reading this exchange (I have never even gotten my ears pierced - my mom wouldn’t let them be pierced until I could make my own decision on that subject matter and as someone with skin issues and bad experiences with needles, I really don’t feel the need to have any unnecessary metal inserted into my body, so... I’m good)

His [Peeta’s] apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Game was something of an act. But I don’t hold it against him. [...] “I’m sorry, too,” I say. [...] “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were keeping us alive.” - That apology of Peeta’s... *chef’s kiss*; it was totally understandable that Peeta was upset and needed some time apart from Katniss after her confession, which had caught him completely by surprise, not even Katniss blames him for that... But his apology shows that he really made use of their time apart to work out his emotions and to reflect on both their situations - that’s some emotional maturity to be envious of! Plus, his apology is a good move to get their communication channel opened up again

It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again. - Come on, Katniss, cut this boy some slack! He can’t read minds - how is he supposed to know about these things if you don’t tell him anything? It’s nice that you’re glad that you guys are on speaking terms again, but communication isn’t a one-way street, y’know?

I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk. - Katniss really should have listened to her instincts here - Haymitch might have a better idea of how the Games/Capitol works, but he knows little about teamwork, which is an important factor in their specific (and unprecedented!) situation; I’m not blaming Katniss for relying on her mentor here, but this entire approach is going to crash and burn in the next chapter

It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand. - Not to say that you can’t have friendships where you frequently hold hands - you totally can - but it is noteworthy that I don’t think I can recall Katniss holding hands with any of her other friends... (somehow, I can’t really picture Katniss holding hands with Gale casually like that... nor with Madge or Finnick later on) 

At the door, I remember, “I’ve got to apologize to Effie first.” “Don’t be afraid to lay it on thick,” Peeta tells me.- There is something about this exchange that speaks to me... maybe because it reads like some sort of an inside joke between them? Or because it shows that, despite being on good terms with Effie, Peeta’s totally aware of how high-maintenance/over the top Effie is... I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Peeta has painted the Games. Some you wouldn’t get right away, if you hadn’t been with him in the arena yourself. Water dripping through the cracks in our cave. The dry pond bed. [...] Others any viewer would recognize. The golden horn called the Cornucopia. [...] And me. I am everywhere. [...] “What do you think?” he asks. “I hate them,” I say. I can almost smell the blood, the dirt, the unnatural breath of the mutt. - These are the pieces Peeta meant to exhibit in the Capitol, right? I wonder if he hoped that these paintings of his impressions/memories of the Games might actually connect with some Capitolites and might even move them to feel some empathy for the Tributes? Maybe he hoped that they would be more receptive for that kind of thing if he packaged it in art?

“All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you’ve brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?” “I see them every night,” he says. [...] “Me too. Does it help? To paint them out?” “I don’t know. I think I’m a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am,” he says. “But they haven’t gone anywhere.” - I do wonder, whether and how painting out these moments could have therapeutic value for Peeta - on the one hand, the act of painting out specific intrusions/flashbacks might be helpful because he’d end up focusing on the more technical side of painting, y’know? Focussing on mixing the right shade of a certain color might help create some emotional distance from the moment itself... also, since painting usually takes some time, Peeta would actually spend a considerable amount of time facing these moments head on, rather than trying to avoid them (avoidance tends to increase the frequency of flashback/intrusions) and maybe spending so much time on them could also help him contextualize them within the broader narrative of his life, which is the basic principle behind Narrative Exposure Therapy, which is said to be pretty effective at treating PTSD... just my two cents

I can’t believe the size of District 11. “How many people do you think live here?” Peeta asks. I shake my head. In school they refer to it as a large district, that’s all. No actual figures on the population. - Perfect example of how tightly the Capitol controls the information the people in the districts have about the other districts... which is basically nothing. Let’s keep them in the dark so they are less likely to connect with each other and band together...

Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. - Lol, Katniss bringing everything back to Peeta because she definitely hasn’t a crush on the guy, I see 😉

And then he [Peeta] hesitates before adding something that wasn’t written on the card. Maybe because he thought Effie might make him remove it. “It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we’d like for each of the tributes’ families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives.” - Peeta, the rebel! Talk about an act of radical kindness! I’m so proud of him. But also, I think this is another excellent example of how he and Katniss are on the same wavelength (this took me some time to find, but here you go): I silently say good-bye to Thresh and thank him for my life. I promise to remember him and, if I can, do something to help his family and Rue’s, if I win. (Ch. 23, THG)

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all. - Peeta: does anything that exemplifies his sense of morality; Katniss: *swoons* - but honestly, it is so beautiful how Katniss is so attracted to Peeta’s goodness and kind heart - it also tells us a lot about her (she is quite pure, as Peeta will point out later in this book) and what she values

“Wait, please.” I don’t know how to start, but once I do, the words rush from my lips as if they’ve been forming in the back of my mind for a long time. - And then Katniss launches into one of her spontaneous, heart-felt, and inspiring speeches/acts, expressing her thanks, sympathy, and a sense of kinship with people beyond the borders of her district, beyond the superficial barriers the Capitol has been trying to maintain in order to weaken the ‘common folk‘ and keep the exploitation going

The full impact of what I’ve done hits me. It was not intentional - I only meant to express my thanks - but I have elicited something dangerous. An act of dissent from the people of District 11. - Again, Katniss has done something that will solidify her as a symbol of the revolution without intending to do so and that’s the point, I think - she inspires people through her genuine displays of caring for others (which, in Panem, is already rebellious on its own)

Chapter 5

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. - Protective Peeta! Also, I think it’s interesting to note the wording of Peeta’s arms “encircling” Katniss and then “guiding” her - his arms surround her, and he’s leading her away from harm (at least to the extent that is in his power - can’t really be safe from harm in Panem, can you?), but it doesn’t seem smothering or oppressive  to Katniss in any way -”guide” has more of a connotation of giving direction without force, imo; in contrast, when Katniss talked about her kiss with Gale she mentions she’d never imagined how those hands [...] could as easily entrap me. (Ch. 2, CF); granted, these are two very different situations - the phrasing just stood out to me

“What happened?” Effie hurries over. “We lost the feed just after Katniss’s beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!” - Very telling how a clueless Capitolite like Effie wouldn’t register the rebellious aspect of Katniss’s speech; by keeping the Capitolites in the depths of sweet, sweet ignorance while simultaneously harshly trying to curb any spark of rebellion by cutting off the feed, the government is actually drawing the attention of the ignorant Capitolites to the act of rebellion itself (and also letting the people in the districts know that there was something censor-worthy going on); kind of shooting themselves in the foot here

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staricases and increasingly narrow halls. [...] Eventually we climb a ladder to a trapdoor. When Haymitch pushes it aside, we find ourselves in the dome of the Justice Building. - I wonder how Haymitch has come to know this part of the Justice Building? Has he been to District 11 more often than Katniss supposes (he is friends with Chaff, after all), did his mentor take him there for some private conversation, or was there a moment during Haymitch’s Victory Tour where he felt so overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and powerlessness that he fled to the most desolate, solitary place he could find?

“I was supposed to fix things on this tour. [...] Calm things down. But obviously, all I’ve done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished.” I feel so sick that I have to sit down on a couch, despite the exposed springs and stuffing. - Obviously, all of this is awful and no one - especially a traumatized, 16-year old girl - should have to suffer carrying such a burden... But also, here we see one of the downsides of Katniss taking sole responsibility for everything - she totally forgot that Peeta might feel responsible too, only that he didn’t even know what’s at stake - which leads us to-

“Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money,” says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. “This has to stop. Right now. This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.”"It's not like that, Peeta-" I begin. "It's exactly like that!" he yells at me. - When kind, gentle Peeta’s mad, you know shit has hit the fan 😳 But also, being passed over/kept out of the loop seems to hit pretty close to home for Peeta (while I would like to know what his home life looked like before the Games, I have to admit that at this point, I’m somewhat afraid I might not be able to handle the truth...). I just think this scene is an important moment that leads to an end of (most of) their detrimental secrecy (hello end-of-CF-Haymitch!) and establishes their little team as such (hence the drawing)

“You’re always so reliably good, Peeta,” says Haymitch. “So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn’t want to disrupt that.” “Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today.” - Remember the last time someone overestimated Peeta (Foxface and the berries)? That ended in someone’s death as well... And, Haymitch? ‘Never assume’ applies to you, too!

“Do you think I gave them [Rue’s and Thresh’s families] a bright future? Because I think they’ll be lucky if they survive the day!” Peeta sends something else flying, a statue. I’ve never seen him like this. - Considering that his rebellious act of kindness is now threatening to become a sword of Damocles, hanging over those towards which he wanted to extend his kindness - simply because he’s been kept out of the loop (again)- Peeta’s anger is quite understandable

“Look, boy-” Haymitch begins. “Don’t bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I’d have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we’re very good.” - Peeta doesn’t really care if it’s just his life on the line, but if other people’s lives are at risk? He takes no shit (it’s admirable in one way and deeply concerning in another); also, Peeta is right - while there still is a game to play, it’s not the Games, so different circumstances and rules apply

“From now on, you’ll be fully informed,” Haymitch promises. “I better be,” says Peeta. - Peeta generally is a very cooperative fellow, but don’t ever think he can’t be forceful and stand his ground when it matters!

“Did you choose me, Haymitch?” I ask. “Yeah,” he says. “Why? You like him better,” I say. “That’s true. But remember, until they changed the rules, I could only hope to get one of you out of there alive,” he says. “I thought since he was determined to protect you, well, between the three of us, we might be able to bring you home.” “Oh,” is all I can think to say. - This is such a quiet, sweet moment and also shows that Katniss, Haymitch and Peeta have been some sort of team from the start (also, in their team effort they actually managed to get the both of them back home!)

Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. The warning, the shootings, the recognition that I may have set something of great consequence in motion. The whole thing is so improbable. And it would be one thing if I had planned to stir things up, but given the circumstances... how on earth did I cause so much trouble? - Lol, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit here, Katniss ;) Frankly, the Capitol has been the one to create this powder-keg they are sitting on in the first place - all it needed was a little spark... All these injustices, the humilitation, the pain inflicted... it’s like an elastic rubber band that’s been stretched and stretched - until it snaps

“I’m something of an expert in architectural design, you know?” “Oh yes, I’ve heard that,” says Portia before the pause gets too long. - Bless Portia’s heart, making sure they avoid that awkward silence 😂

Effie looks so distressed that I spontaneously give her a hug. “That’s awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn’t go to the dinner at all. At least until they’ve apologized.” - Aww, Katniss doing something nice for Effie!😊

Peeta and I join hands. “Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions,” says Peeta. “And it isn’t as if I haven’t kept things from you in the past.” - Peeta sorta apologizing, even acknowledging that he also had kept secrets from Katniss? We love to see it👍 - [...] “I think I broke a few things myself after that interview.” “Just an urn,” he says. - Peetaaa... stop diminishing your own physical injuries! Good thing that Katniss won’t let him: - “And your hands. There’s no point to it anymore though, is there? Not being straight with each other?” I say. “No point,” says Peeta. - Gasp! Honest, open communication as a good basis for a successful relationship? It’s more likely than you think!

“Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?” I’m so startled I answer. “Yes.” With all that has happened today, has that question actually been preying on him? - Peeta, you sly dog! Your priorities 😂

Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects at the victors’ ceremonies. But in others - particularly 8, 4, and 3 - there is genuine elation in the faces of the people at the sight of us, and under the elation, fury. - I do think that it’s interesting how D4 is one of the districts being elated to see Peeta + Katniss and displaying such fury, despite being a Career district; just goes to show that, just because their odds are better at winning the Games, doesn’t have to make them more simpatico with the Capitol’s cruelty... (Considering how Finnick knows how to perform CPR, it’s highly likely that people in D4 are also used to awful and precarious working + living situations... maybe that’s exactly why they generally are so robust and do well in the Games; and maybe they are simply not that above joining the other Careers as long as it improves their chances of survival, like Katniss or Thresh had been... worked for a while for Peeta, too)

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. [...] Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms. - 😭 Also: Very telling how Capitolite Effie just throws pills at the problem (with the best of intentions, I’m sure), which is an immediate, unpersonal, and superficial solution at best, whereas Peeta holding Katniss, offering comfort, understanding, a sense of safety, and human connection is so much more personal, intimate, and effective (for both of them!)

I personally killed the girl, Glimmer, and the boy from District 1. As I try to avoid looking at his family, I learn that his name was Marvel. How did I never know that? - You know why, Katniss -  I suppose that before the Games I didn’t pay attention and afterward I didn’t want to know. - Still, not knowing his name didn’t stop you from humanizing him, Katniss, and that’s important, too

Whatever we do seems too little, too late. Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I’m the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone. “I thought he wanted it, anyway,” I say. “Not like this,” Haymitch says. “He wanted it to be real.” - Come on, Katniss, don’t be so callous; Peeta’s just as much of a prisoner here as you! Also, it’s all about being real or not real with these two, isn’t it?

Chapter 6

... you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair. Here’s what’s strange. The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. [...] That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I am free to act as desperately as I wish. - Honestly, I think it was pretty short-sighted of Snow to let Katniss know so clearly that she didn’t succeed in her task; she did her utmost and it wasn’t enough - might as well fling caution to the wind now. All bets are off. If there had been still some small chance she could have ‘made things right’, she probably would have been trying harder to comply to his expectations. (I’m sure Snow thought the upcoming implementations of his stricter regime would be enough to keep Katniss in check, but pride comes before a fall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

It’s essential to get back to District 12, because the main part of any plan will include my mother and sister, Gale and his family. And Peeta, If I can get him to come with us. I add Haymitch to the list. - For such a ‘loner’, Katniss sure has a lot of people that are important to her... And how ironic that Peeta, who she isn’t sure she’ll be able to convince in following her will be a much more willing participant that Gale, who Katniss is pretty much banking on joining her

“You’ll probably have to pass a new law,” I say with a giggle. “If that’s what it takes,” says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh the fun we two have together. - The dynamic between Snow and Katniss is so strange; despite the obvious antagonism there is definitely some vibe of interacting with each other at eye level and it’s weird (Sidenote: Is there any law in Panem preventing minors from marrying?)

“I want to taste everything in the room, “ I tell Peeta. [...] “Then you’d better pace yourself,” he says. “Okay, not more than one bite of each dish,” I say. My resolve is almost immediately broken at the first table, which has twenty or so soups - couldn’t have happened to me; I hate soup (like, thick soups I maaaybe can get behind, but clear soup/broth is just flavored water to me, no thanks - then again, I’m a picky eater)

Peeta and I make no effort to find company but are constantly sought out. We are what no one wants to miss at the party. I act delighted, but I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food. - Well isn’t that a mood for every social gathering ever (one person I enjoy talking to and lots of food I like? Perfect.)

I pick up a small roasted bird, bite into it, and my tongue floods with orange sauce. Delicious. But I make Peeta eat the remainder because I want to keep tasting things - Katniss seems to like the combination of meat and fruit, huh? (the lamb and plums, now bird and orange sauce) Personally, it’s a combination that’s on thin ice for me; there are only a few dishes with that component I actually like and it took me forever to tolerate them (I don’t know if it’s the texture or the taste, but something makes me apprehensive about it); anyway, Katniss making Peeta eat the rest is such a casual, couple-y thing to do (or at least something you do with someone you feel very comfortable with, I think)

Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?” My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?” I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply. - Oh boy, I have a lot of thoughts on this part: A) I just noticed how this is the second delicate/fancy glass/drink that’s bringing about a jarring revelation: first that orange juice with the frilly straw in THG, now these tiny wine-stemmed glasses, B) “Everyone does it” + “how else would you have fun?” are the shittiest reasons I’ve ever heard at a party for doing something stupid you probably don’t want to do (I’m having flashbacks to all the times I had people trying to pressure me into drinking alcohol as a teen - it was even legal, btw - although I insisted that I didn’t like the taste (which I still don’t, to this day); it was tiresome 😑), C) “everyone does it” - the people in the Capitol must have some messed up teeth if that’s a regular occurence (sure, they probably bleach their teeth all the time, but also... they’d really need to, D) the obvious: how effed up that they just puke to stuff in more food when in the districts people literally are dying from starvation?! (and yeah, unequal distribution of resources sadly isn’t just a thing in Panem, I know... but there is something about actively purging yourself just for funsies that’s just extra, well, sick)

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of the children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parents cannot give. More food. - God, how awful! How powerless they must feel 😟

And here in the Capitol they’re vomiting for the pleasure of filling their bellies again and again. Not from some illness of body or mind, not from spoiled food. - Ooh, I’ve never noticed before how this passage not only recognizes physical reasons for purging, but also mental reasons! Wouldn’t have necessarily expected Katniss to acknowledge eating disorders like that, tbh... She has become a lot more cognizant and sensitive when mental health issues are concerned

One day when I dropped by to give Hazelle the game, Vick was home sick with a bad cough [...] he still spent about fifteen minutes talking about how they’d opened a can of corn syrup from Parcel Day and each had a spoonful on bread and were going to maybe have more later in the week. How Hazelle had said he could have a bit in a cup of tea to soothe his cough, but he wouldln’t feel right unless the others had some, too. - Aww, Vick is such a sweetheart! Hazelle is raising her kids right!

“Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment,”I say. “Really, this is nothing by comparison.” “I know. I know that. It’s just sometimes I can’t stand it anymore. To the point where... I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He pauses, then whispers, “Maybe we were wrong, Katniss.” “About what?” I ask. “About trying to subdue things in the districts,” he says. - Peeta’s rebellious nature coming through again!

“Sorry,” he says. He should be. This is no place to be voicing such thoughts. “Save it for home,” I tell him. - I know Katniss means D12, but her phrasing of “home” evokes a more domestic, couple-y connotation again 😊

I don’t want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don’t want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I’m not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. - It’s telling that, while Katniss is not big on being touched aside from her family (does that include Gale? probably? although they hadn’t even really hugged until Katniss had been reaped, so... I dunno), she’s totally fine with Peeta touching her (more than that: remember how good she felt holding his hand again in Ch.4 and how she’s feeling safe in his arms when they are sharing a bed), it says a lot about how comfortable she feels around him

Plutarch steps back and pulls out a gold watch on a chain from a vest pocket. He flips open the lid, sees the time, and frowns. “I’ll have to be going soon.” He turns the watch so I can see the face. “It starts at midnight.” - Honestly, this very subtle hint/foreshadowing of the clock setup of the Quarter Quell arena is simply brilliant! And also, midnight is going to become an important point in time as well from here on out (lightning tree, in the hanging tree song, saving Peeta and the others from the Training Center in the Capitol)

It’s another mockingjay. Exactly like the pin on my dress. Only this one disappears. He snaps the watch closed. “That’s very pretty,” I say. “Oh, it’s more than pretty. It’s one of a kind,” he says. - The disappearing mockingjay on the clock is interesting because A) Plutarch can’t really be flaunting the symbol of rebellion as Head Gamemaker, duh, but also B) the clock arena will be the place where the Mockingjay will disappear (until the rebellion will be able to use her for their cause); and that last comment by Plutarch clearly is aimed at the Mockingjay (Katniss) herself

When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. - Okay, Katniss must feel hella safe and used to Peeta joining her in her bed, because apparently she didn’t even wake up when he did, like... I’m a fairly heavy sleeper, but I can’t imagine sleeping so deeply that I wouldn’t jerk awake if someone crawled into my bed while I was snoozing

“No nightmare,” he says. “What?” I ask. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says. He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. - Telling how the first time Katniss sleeps through the night is after Snow let her know her performance wasn’t enough; she’s must have been so tense and on edge, desperately trying to calm down the districts and convince Snow, that she hadn’t been able to sleep properly, aside from the obvious sleeping issues she’d have from the PTSD (I’m often that way before an important exam - especially if it’s an oral exam; I get tense just thinking about it 😓)

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay though the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.” - Interesting how in Katniss’s dream, the mockingjay is Rue - lending further credence to the hypothesis that maybe Rue was originally meant to be the Mockingjay (would make Plutarch’s comment of the mockingjay being “one of a kind” a bit more hypocritical/exaggerated/dramatized, which still fits with his flair for propaganda/showmanship... and ultimately, Katniss as the Mockingjay was unique, but that doesn’t mean that the rebellion couldn’t have made someone else their symbol if they needed to); also, Peeta brushing Katniss’s hair off her forehead is so sweet and intimate 😊

After I got home, we [Madge and I] started spending time together. [...] It was a little awkward at first because we didn’t know what to do. Other girls our age, I’ve heard them talking about boys, or other girls, or clothes. Madge and I aren’t gossipy and clothes bore me to tears. But after a few false starts, I realized she was dying to go into the woods, so I’ve taken her a couple of times and showed her how to shoot. She’s trying to teach me the piano, but mostly I like to listen to her play. - Honestly? I’d love to read a fanfic about Katniss and Madge figuring out their friendship (let me know if there already are some!); it’s cute how they end up including each other in their hobbies 😊 Ah, the classic “I’m/We’re not like other girls”, which often is especially prevalent during your teen years (I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been gulty of this in my past 😅)... Katniss might actually would have benefited from talking with Madge about her boys’ troubles, though... And it’s so funny how Katniss admits that she has no interest in clothes, despite it being her supposed “talent”, while she also admits that she does admire Cinna’s work

... there’s a mob scene. The square’s packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks, throwing bricks. Building burn. Peacekeepers shoot into the crowd, killing at random. I’ve never seen anything like it - I... I have. At least on tv... In different places, at different times, but... yeah...

[everlarkficexchange]

The Archer and The Wrestler.

Written by: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Prompt 90: The Olympic committee is selling sponsorships and heavily advertising the upcoming games. The most photogenic of each sport is asked to pose for pics and attend functions, film commercial together, do some interviews. What sports represented by Katniss, Peeta, others? Required to look cozy? Animosity behind those smiles? Competitiveness? Banter? Any secrets? Do they have a “breakfast club” ending? by @567inpanem

______ 

Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark meet in the office of Trinket Advertising, where they have to shoot pictures for sponsors.

____

Thank you @567inpanem for the prompt ! I had fun writing it :) PLus I could place it in my country which is always a plus. I hope you won’t be disappointed … 

My deepest thanks to @sunsetsrmydreams for pre reading and betaing.

To @xerxia31 and @javistg thank you for hosting such a nice event … and So sorry for the delay !

__________________

  I should be practicing, she thought, instead of pacing the long, white, corridor of Trinket Advertising.

  Katniss still had a ton to do for the Games. Be sure to be fit, to be healthy, to be accurate. To shoot straight.

  She really didn’t want to spend her afternoon waiting for some photographer to ask her to act natural in front of a camera. But she was just glad she didn’t have to shoot with someone from the team, as she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to focus with the constant bickering between Johana and Gale or how Haymitch, their trainer, would “Sweetheart” this or that. 

  Still no clue as to why she had been picked to be the representative of her sport for the sponsors and advertising. She wasn’t really sure she knew what it entailed, how much time she would spend parading around the media instead of practicing. She knew archery wasn’t such a popular sport in the States, preventing her from spending huge amounts of time in talk shows, or interviews. 

Plus, seeing the recognition made Prim, her sister, so proud and happy, Katniss hadn’t been able to turn down the offer when it came. 

  “Kathy Everdeen? You’re up next.” The assistant’s piercing voice echoed in the long corridor. Katniss closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to not correct the woman.

  “Welcome to the Strange Name That Can’t Be Taken Seriously Club.” Another voice, male this time, made her open her eyes. 

In front of her was a man of around her age, wearing the male version of the US Olympics shirt she had on..

  Only his was stretched across his broad frame, where she was glad hers was loose around her lean body. 

  He extended his hand.

  “Peeta Mellark. Wrestling. Founding member of the club.” She stared at his hand, before moving a step forward to shake it. “You’re the archer ? Katniss right?”

  She stopped mid-movement. How could he know her name ?

  “I saw your name on the list, so I figured you’d be next ?” He said, almost shyly, as if he had offended her, or invaded her privacy.

  She saw the movement of his hand, that she had left unshaken, going to his hair, his fingers raking through his mane of curls.

  He had done nothing wrong, she realized, just tried to clear the air. She took a breath, before extending her own hand in front of her.

  “Yeah, I’m Katniss. Archery. How much is the subscription to the club?”

  He laughed, before shaking her hand.

  “How about tea after you’re done ?”

  “Too bad I only drink coffee … but I guess if you can wait a bit, that’s doable.” Katniss almost smiled when Peeta started to laugh.

  “Oh my goodness, I have a genius idea !” A voice froze their handshaking. “We are going to do pair shootings! Mix the sports together, along with the portraits. It’s going to be legendary !”   

  A woman with very pink hair matching her very pink outfit stood in the entrance leading towards the studio. As soon as she stopped talking, a flock of what Katniss could only think were assistants came in view, all clapping their hands or praising the Pink Lady.

  “Effie, this is another grand idea! We should start right now with these two!” The woman that had misspelled Katniss’ name said, “as they are both here.”

  “What are you waiting for, Octavia, take her to make-up right now! I need to call Plutarch, I am having a ton of ideas ! Hush hush, now come on, quickly!” 

  Katniss saw the assistants moving as one, starting to circle her and Peeta, moving them forward inside the studio, where a couple were checking their cameras and the large umbrellas reflecting the lights.

  “Cinna, Portia, I had an epiphany!” The Pink Lady walked towards the couple as quickly as her pencil dress and very high heels allowed her, while Katniss was ushered to the make-up table. She noticed that Peeta was following right behind her, with the other half of the assistants. She met his gaze, saw him shrug before he was taken to another table, shielded from her view by the different makeup and hair artists around them.

  “We’ll start with you, Kathy!” Octavia said a few minutes later. Katniss took another deep breath, calming her temper. In just a few minutes, she’ll be gone. Archery wasn’t high on the list of sponsors, nobody cared about them, but for the bow and arrows brands. 

  Katniss didn’t have time to muse as the sound of Octavia’s heels on the tiling started again. She rose from the chair, following the young woman towards a dressing cabin.

  “You’ll find your uniform inside. You’re a S, right?”

  “How do you know?” Katniss asked, surprised that the woman guessed correctly.

  “I have an eye for that. Plus, it’s written on your card.”

  She repressed another eyeroll, trying to keep in mind that Octavia was only doing her job, before she entered the dressing cabin. 

White pants, blue polo lined with red, and a white undershirt to protect her arms. The standard equipment.

  Yet, it was something to see it, to realize she would represent her country in the most important tournament there could be, that she had achieved one of her goals. To be an Olympian.

  She took the polo, turning it slowly, almost afraid to read what was on the back.

  Everdeen.

  Her father’s name, embroidered in the cotton of the shirt.

Pride rushed through her veins as her fingers traced the letters.

  “I did it, Papa. I’m going to the Olympics.”

  ______________________

  It was now official. She hated photoshoots. First, because it was taking an awful lot of time, then because you had to smile. All.the.time. That Katniss hasn’t screamed yet or ran off the door was entirely due to her willpower gained from years of training.

  The photographer, Cinna, wasn’t a talker. He was taking his time to snap picture after picture, never acknowledging Octavia or Effie’s advice for her to smile this way, or that way. Because there was apparently a way to smile properly.

  She could feel her anger rise with each passing minute, the incessant chatter of the women, the silence of the photographer, the heat from the spotlights, the wind from the huge fans, the itching from the label of the polo on her neck… 

  “I think it’s time to pair them up.” The photographer’s voice calmly said, silencing the two women.

From being Effie and Octavia, Peeta made his way towards the scene where Katniss was standing. 

  Before anyone could say a thing, Cinna turned to Effie and his assistant.

“Ladies, can you please check if we have athletes that can be paired tomorrow too? I’m sorry to ask in such short notice, but I think Effie’s idea is something we have to work on.. of course it will mean you change all the schedules..”

  “Oh, my, Cinna, but yes, of course! If you think so ? But will you be able to manage with these two?” Effie Trinket asked. Katniss could feel the sharpness of her gaze as the older woman looked at her.

  “If there is the slightest problem, I’ll make sure Portia comes to get you.” 

  “Yes, please. Because if we can manage to pair Brutus and Enobaria, we might be on something, right?”

  “Right.” Cinna nodded, before moving towards his material, his back to Katniss as he rummaged through his material.

  She looked at her partner in the photoshoot, who seemed as lost as she was. He kept running his hand in his mane of blond hair, before shoving them in his pockets. Seconds after, he was doing the same movements again. She realized she was doing the same, undoing the end of her braid before redoing it, over and over again.

She really couldn’t wait to be out of the studio.

  “Will you two stand back to back, please?” Cinna’s voice startled her, even though it was barely over a whisper. “Portia, can you please close the door?” 

  That’s when she realized how silent the place was without Effie and Octavia. Without their neverending chatter, their disapproving tongue clicks, or their exaggerated sighs.

It almost felt … good.

  Almost.

  She started to move then, turning her back to Peeta, before crossing her eyes, hoping he would take the hint to do the same. The sooner they were done, the better. She had her bow waiting for her, after all.

  She felt the fabric of Peeta’s polo on her arm, yet, never his weight on her back.

  She looked at Cinna, who nodded approvingly, before starting to take pictures. 

  “Should we smile?” She heard Peeta’s deep voice right behind her, asking the question she didn’t dare ask.

  “Do what you want, don’t mind me.” the photographer answered behind his material.

  “What we want?” Katniss echoed, unsure she had heard correctly. The previous hour had been filled with recommendations on what to do, on poses to take, on how to smile … 

  Cinna lowered his camera.

  “I’m not Effie. Beauty is everywhere, it doesn’t have to be faked by poses or false smiles. Just do what you two want.” He shrugged before checking something on his camera. “I’ll need a few minutes to fix this, try to relax.”

  Katniss turned to her partner in shooting, to realize he had already moved and was facing her.

  “You told me you were a coffee girl, right?”

  “Yup. Black, no sugar.”

  “I don’t take sugar in my tea, either. See we have something in common.” Peeta put his hands high. “Oh, no high five ? We’re not close enough yet.”

  “Definitely not, singlet boy.”

  “Ouch, that hurts. Know, Miss Everdeen, that a lot of women find that uniform .. appealing.” He raised his eyebrows, wiggling them explicitly. 

  “I bet they do. The main question is, do you have to shave your torso, so your opponent won’t have the opportunity to pull at your chest hair ?”

  Katniss didn’t know what came to her to ask such a question.  It was like Peeta made it easy for her to talk, when she usually wasn’t famous for speaking or making her voice heard without shouting.

  It was like he had a calm, soothing temper, like a lazy river, ready to cover the fire that was in her.

Maybe they made a good pair.

  “Yeah, the worst is the wax under the armpit.” He deadpanned, not even letting a smile on his face.

  She could totally imagine him taken down to “Beauty Base Zero” as the woman at the beauty parlor had told her the only time she went there. It included all sorts of treatments, each worse than the others. She even told her sister to not gift her with that kind of torture anymore.

  “Ouch.. I hope your girlfriend covers you in aloe after that …” 

Katniss knew she wasn’t the most girly woman around, yet she sometimes put on mascara or had her legs waxed from time to time, mostly for competitions when she had decided to wear the short-skirts or the long bermudas. 

  “Well, meet Hanna, my girlfriend.” Peeta said casually, showing his right hand, wiggling his eyebrows - again.      

  It took Katniss a few seconds to catch up on the double-entendre.

  “Oh, my, you’re disgusting!” Her words couldn’t completely hide her smile. There was something to this man that somehow made her want to talk, to speak, to even trust him. 

  “I bunked with Finnick Odair at the Youth Olympic Games. That was disgusting! He shaves himself ! the room was full of his hair!”

  “Well, you could have collected them before putting them on Ebay. You’d be rich by now.”

  “I should have, yes. Dam, why didn’t I know you back then to give me good advice!”

  “I wasn’t at the YOG.”

  “I know, I would have noticed you.”

She looked at him, with questions in her mind. His eyes were blue, so clear nothing was shadowing them, she was left without words.

  Click.

  —-

  Katniss couldn’t believe she was at the Olympics. In Paris, France. That her childhood dream of bringing a golden medal home was nothing but a few arrows away. A lot of stress, too. She raised her bow, lining the target with her eye, throwing  a quick glance to the small flags lining the area to check the wind, took a deep breath, before letting go of the arrow.

  She knew right away that it would miss the center of the target. A breath of hair on the right, still not enough to get full marks. She had underestimated the wind on this large, open area that the Esplanade des Invalides was.

  “Not too bad.”  She jumped at the voice behind her. Maybe some kind of volunteer that had been allowed inside the arenas for training. She needed to focus on the target, on the little golden area that would make her mark a ten in the competition.

  She took another arrow from the quiver on her left hip, slid it in the bow, looked at the wind, took a deep breath, lifted her weapon, aimed at the target. With the next exhalation of air, she let go of the arrow, knowing right away it would hit the center. 

  She had never been able to explain how she knew, each and every time how her arrow would behave. It was a feeling, a sensation, deep inside of her. 

  Thunk !  

  She looked at the target, saw that indeed the arrow was in the yellow area. She almost let a smile show on her mouth, when the same voice distrubed her again.

  “You might win if you shoot like that.”

  Katniss closed her eyes, letting a sigh escape before turning to face whoever decided to disturb her training. 

  “Peeta!” She felt a smile forming on her face. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “I was practising, then decided to go for a walk. It’s Paris after all!”

  “Here?” Katniss was pretty sure she hadn’t seen any other sport on the green grass in front of the Invalides.

  “Oh, not here here, over there!” Peeta turned, his right hand moving over his shoulder, showing the Eiffel Tower. “Wrestling is on the Champ de Mars, at the feet of the tower”

  “Really? You’ll have to tell me when you’re in the tournament. So I can come and see you.”

  Peeta’s hand went to his head, his fingers raking through his mane of golden curls.

“You’re sure ? If the press sees you there….”

  “I’ll tell them I came to support a friend.”

  “But you know how the paparazzi are …”

  “We’re in France, not the US, nobody cares about archery or wrestling - no offense intended.”

  “None taken.” 

  Peeta looked around, before coming closer to the barriers surrounding the archery arena, then leaning slightly on them, giving Katniss the opportunity to see the muscles in his forearms. She wondered briefly if he already had his waxing treatment.

  “Something on your mind, Everdeen?”   

  Who was he again? A mind-reader ?  She quickly turned her eyes  from his arms, not lingering on the broad expense of his chest, or how bright his eyes were.

  “Yup. I have to finish training if I don’t want to look too ridiculous when the competition starts.”

“What do you say we try one of these cafés when you’re done?” he casually asked. Katniss could see something in his eyes - was it hope ?

  Damn, was he playing unfair by throwing coffee into the mix. As if she was known to refuse a cup. 

  “I still have a few minutes of practice, maybe a raincheck?”

  He shrugged, before looking around. “I’m in no rush. I can wait. Patience is a virtue, young grasshopper.”

  She nodded, before taking another arrow out of her quirrel. 

   “Yes, Sensei.”

  The arrow hit the center of the target.

  ———————–

  Katniss knew she shouldn’t be there. Not that she didn’t want to, but after  pictures of her and Peeta laughing in a small café had hit the stands, her phone hadn’t stopped beeping, demanding a confirmation if there was something going on between the two of them. That, perhaps, all the rumors that had been born after the photoshoot with Cinna, were not rumors at all.

  Effie Trinket was, of course, delighted. Jo wouldn’t stop asking about LoverBoy, Gale was threatening to beat the shit out of Peeta (Katniss was almost ready to let him try to do that), and Haymitch kept on asking her if her little romance would damage her results in the field.

  Everything was peachy.

  Yet, she couldn’t find it in her to regret the time she had spent with Peeta. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, that she had been able to confide to someone as she had done with him, how he had been open to her too. Like two old friends rekindling a friendship after spending years apart. 

  Friends they could have been, they had realized when discussing their native places. They had grown up about a hundred miles apart, in the same district of West Virginia. They could have crossed paths about a dozen times, sharing memories of the Meadow Park, where they both had spent time, Katniss had even worked there when they were younger. 

  Sometime during their afternoon chat, a photographer had spotted them, recognized them, and snapped pictures.

  That was a trending subject on Twitter minutes later, before someone even created a ship name for them. The hashtag #Everlark trended for more than a day.

  Katniss had pushed her phone away, blocked all the numbers she didn’t know, called Peeta to apologize, before focusing solely on her training.

  Her perfect plan had crumbled in hours, when Peeta had caught her in the Victor’s Village Cafeteria, explaining how he was sorry for everything, as the idea of coffees had been his. 

They had ended up sharing a meal with Gale and Jo, as well as some of Peeta’s teammates, who kept joking about the Everlark hashtag. In a matter of two hours Katniss was laughing with them, the pain of Effie’s scheme forgotten.

  That was why she was currently in the corridors of the Arena where Judo and Wrestling competitions were being held. Her own tournament was starting in two days and Katniss would rather watch sports she didn’t understand, then stay in her room, anxiously waiting for her turn to compete.

  Maybe it was time for her to play team mate too. She had put on her US Team attire, gotten her accreditations cards, before jumping into one of the buses that led her to the Champ de Mars. 

  She hadn’t seen Peeta since breakfast the morning before, when she had forgotten to ask him if he was still okay for her to come.

  The building was elegantly sitting on the green grass. In the back, she could see the Eiffel Tower, all dressed up in her beauty and dignity.

  In a few minutes she had found the hall with the wrestlers, and a seat in the ranks reserved for athletes. She recognized Thom and Thresh, two of Peeta’s teammates, who waved at her. She talked to them for a few minutes, learning their categories were competing in the coming days.

  “Peeta should be in two matches.” Thresh informed her as she sat on the plastic seat. “He should make it to the quarters easily. After…”

  “After?” She asked, unsure what THresh meant.

  “After, in the quarters he should face Katø, the Russian. A beast. “

  “A beast?” 

  “Yeah, 164 pounds of malice and nastiness.”

  “Charming… Maybe someone will eat this Katø first ?” 

  Thresh shook his head.

  “Na, not with this draw. His first worthy opponent will be Peeta.”

  She looked at Thresh, thinking back to the afternoon she had spent with Peeta, remembering what he had told her.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, her cheeks still hurt. They had walked away from the Olympic Archery range, following the banks of the Seine, looking at the amazing monuments, walking by the Musee d’Orsay that Peeta had told her he wanted to visit. 

They had crossed the river on a wooden bridge only for pedestrians, walked along the Louvre, until they had found a small café near the Palais Royal where they were still sitting.

  “You all have bread names? Why? “

  Peeta shrugged,  before leaning down a little on the metallic table, as if he was about to confide his deepest secret.

  “We own a bakery, back in Panem. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you my real name …”

  She laughed, leaning over the table too. She felt bold enough to run her hand on his definitely toned forearm, letting her finger wander up to his shoulder.

  She saw the color of his eyes change from crystal blue to a darker shade, heard him take a breath in.

  But Katniss was on a mission.

  She leaned closer to him, her hand coming closer to his neck, her nimble fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

  She could feel him tense under her touch, and lifted her eyes, to find his locked on her, as if he wanted to get lost in her. It took Katniss a few seconds to return to her task. With a movement of her wrist, she grabbed his accreditation cards, pulling them over his head before leaning back into her seat.

  “That’s disappointing, actually. Your name is Mark ? Mark Mellark ?”   

  “Because your name is really Katniss?”

  She put down his accreditations, took hers from around her neck, holding them out to him. He took them with a smirk before looking at the name written on them.

  “Your name is really Katniss?”

  “Yep. My mom’s Lily, my dad is Alon, and my sister is Primrose. You’re a bread family, we are a plant family.” She snatched the cards from his hands. “ You’re lucky you didn’t bet a thing, Mark Mellark.”

  “Don’t call me Mark.” He grumbled, leaning back onto his chair.

  “Well, then if you don’t want the world to call you Mark, you know what’s left to do, Mellark!”.

  She casually put down his cards on the table, taking her time to lean back too.

  “Oh? And that would be, Sensei ?”

  “Easy, Grasshopper. Make sure you don’t get a medal.”

  “That, Robin Hood, is not an option.”  

  The steadiness, the certainty of his voice made her shiver. Or maybe it was the wind, coming from large trees nearby. Surely the trees, she thought.

  “I mean,” he started “ we all came here for a reason, and it’s not to give someone else our place on the podium. Plus with all the visibility we have this year, we have to give it our best, right?”

  She nodded. That was what they had to do, what they had trained for, what they were in France for.

  “Katniss?” Thom’s voice took her out of her memories. 

  “Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

  “Look down, on the mat. The guy in blue? It’s Katø.”

  “That’s a man? He looks like a mountain of muscles …” 

  “Well, he is a mountain of muscles … “ The referee interrupted Thom’s sentence with the start of the first period. “That won’t take long, he isn’t known for dancing around.”

  Katniss watched as the blond man, so different from Peeta rushed into his opponent, pinning him on the mat in a few seconds.

  “Told you. That lasted 25 seconds, he won’t be tired for the next round.” Thom said. “Peeta’s next.”

  Katniss nodded searching the ground until she spotted him, wearing a red singlet. 

  “Why is he wearing red ? Blue is a better color for him.” She asked, her eyes trained on the now familiar figure walking towards the mat. Damn, these singlets left little to the imagination. To say they were fit-forming was the understatement of the year. She could see all the lines of Peeta’s muscles moving as he approached the fighting zone.

  “Because he’ll be the first one called. It’s the rules.” She turned towards Thresh, who had the biggest smile on his face she’d ever seen him don.

  “Why are you smiling?” She was wondering what had been so funny in her words.

  “‘Blue is a better color for him’ - you sound like -” 

  “Be careful, Thresh. She shoots arrows…” Thom interrupted. “Now if you want to see Peeta wrestle, maybe you can look at the mat ?”

  With a last threatening glance towards Thresh that was met with another huge smile and air kisses, Katniss turned towards the arena, noticing how different Peeta’s posture was from Katø’s. 

  “He’s going to tire the Georgian who isn’t as flexible as he is. And as soon as there will be an opening, he’ll go for it.” Thom explained, as she watched the complicated dance of joint locks, takedowns, and other things she had no idea what they were.

  “This must be exhausting…” she whispered, as she saw Peeta finally going for the pin, immobilizing his opponent on the mat.

  “Well, it’s not crochet that’s for sure!” Thresh chimed into her thoughts as the crowd applauded the winner of the match.

  This was going to be a long day.

  __________________

  She needed to focus, now. Forget she was in the final of the Olympic Archery Tournament. Forget her dream was an arrow away. Forget she needed a nine to win the gold.

  She had to remember the wind, how it came lightly from the right to the left, how she needed to bend the trajectory just a little. She had to calm her beating heart.

  To forget Peeta was in the stands, watching. Katniss had cheered him on as he won his own gold medal two days ago, but now it was her moment.

  She needed to forget. 

  The way he had chased her when she tried to make a quiet exit.

To forget how they had kissed.

Their own celebration.

  She had to clear her mind of all this. 

Forget. Focus.

  A deep breath. 

Visualizing the arrow hitting the center of the target. 

  The chronometer was ticking. Tick. Tock.

  It was her last arrow. Her concurrents had already shot their own.

  She needed a nine.

  Only twelve seconds remain.

  She rose her bow.

Eleven seconds.

  Remembered her father’s proud look when she had won her first trophy.

  She let the arrow fly.

  She knew it would be a ten.

  She had won the gold.

  She fell to her knees, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes.

  “I did it, Papa, I won … I hope you’re proud..”

  The applause around her made her lift her head, then stand up, before she ran towards the stands, her bow still in hand, her eyes fixed on a figure that was coming down the stairs, towards her.

  She felt his arms around her as he hugged her over the bleachers, felt his hands going to her face as he looked into her eyes.

  “You remember to shoot straight, Grasshopper…” he whispered, for the two of them only.

  “Yes, Sensei”, she replied before kissing him.

  Click.

  FIN

[bethpeaches123]

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

��Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[jacespunkdad]

so i’m rereading hunger games as i’ve mentioned before and here’s a compiled list of little details that i think should be included if they remake it into a series or something

honestly the movies were really great and naturally there’s stuff that needs to be cut for it to fit in a 2 hour window but...if there was more time...here’s what i want 

- first of all it needs to be rated higher (r or ma). the punch of these books have did not hit as hard in the movies because the violence had to be toned down. and to be fair i wouldn’t have been allowed to see them if they were rated r in 2012 HOWEVER. i think it’s necessary

- casting should actually fit the ages of the characters i know there’s laws for working with actors underage but having the leads be in their 20s literally defeated the whole point lmao

- also katniss and gale aren’t white and neither is haymitch i don’t think actually so can we fix that. love the original actors to death they did a great job but i think actors with olive skin and gray eyes will do just as good a job

- we need madge. she is an icon and deserves respect

- we need avoxes!! they technically were in the movies but they were mentioned once and then they were always just vibing in the background. we need to have the redheaded avox and there should be a flashback scene where you see katniss and gale witnessing her get caught in the woods (i forget her name atm)

- katniss’s mom’s battle with depression, let’s talk about it! barely mentioned in the movies

- also katniss’s dad! they literally showed a picture of him once in the first movie and never talked about him ever again which is not fair because he seemed like a very lovely man. i want to see clips of him singing and teaching young katniss how to hunt! justice for mr everdeen rip king

- katniss thinks about her and gale’s adventures in the woods (TM) during the games and i wanna see some of them on screen. mainly the one where they buy lady i love that one

- on the subject of parents more of peeta’s dad! idgaf about his abusive mom i know she’s technically more important to the immediate story but if she gets a scene he deserves one too. peeta definitely gets all his good genes from him

- cinna is clearly a gay icon and he needs to have a boyfriend. give him a bf

- portia has the EXACT SAME ENERGY. give her a gf. also can portia have lines please in the movies she was just. there

- more of katniss’s prep team!!! would honestly die for them. they should’ve had more than 3 scenes they provide perfect comedy relief

- katniss and peeta constantly having matching outfits during the prep for the first games another great comedic moment

- peeta’s prosthetic leg! representation matters

- also district 4 tributes should’ve been hanging out with cato and co. everyone forgets district 4 is a career district (and that finnick was a career) all the time and it makes me upset

- and prim was just? at school. while her sister is fighting to death. i want a scene where they flash to her sitting in a god damn cafeteria watching the games like WHAT 

- gale’s family!! 

- the movie did a good job showing the ptsd but they can do more showing peeta and haymitch’s struggles with it besides just katniss

- district 8 was always starting shit and i think that needs to be addressed HAHA

- bonnie and twill! i genuinely thought i made them up or that they were from a different series until i finally got to their part

- also we just need more district 12 stuff all the district 12 action in catching fire was cut out basically

- for instance the detail that the head peacekeeper would take advantage of starving girls by essentially whoring them out to him for money or food? let’s talk about that because holy shit

- there’s so many scenes of katniss and peeta doing domestic things together without even realizing it and it makes me so happy i love them. the cheese buns! peeta drawing pictures for katniss’s family book! taking walks around town! his art! 

- and i specifically want the scene where katniss comes home to the peacekeepers waiting for her and haymitch and peeta are just casually sitting in the den playing chess and effortlessly roasting her in their efforts to cover for her and also stealing her candy. love that scene so much 

- also right before that katniss legit jumped out of a 25 FOOT TREE???? HELLO???? idk how they’d film that honestly but i wanna see it 

- district 12 gets so ugly and bad after thread shows up and they didn’t really show it at all i wish they had it’s so horrific to read about

- darius!! he should’ve been in the movies. the scene where he shows up as an avox fucked me up SO BAD when i was a kid

- the whole plot line about the capitol using a green screen every time they report on district 13 was so interesting and such a twist and i remember going :O when i read the first time i wish it had been included

- haymitch’s games!!! genuinely one of my favorite backstories i’ve ever read in any series ever. they need to show it especially considering that he was against 47 competitors instead of the normal 23 like that’s nuts

- katniss, peeta, and haymitch “training” for the quarter quell. i want a montage

- just cinna’s line “portia and i spent a lot of hours looking at fires.” there’s so many moments of subtle humor in the books that got taken away and i think they help balance out the story so well

i’m about halfway through catching fire so i will update with more thoughts. thank u for coming to my ted talk

[hockeysweetheart]

When I was in need of Help you were there 

When You left I cried Tears 

When You said you couldn’t hold on you did 

When  You speak in front of a crowd everyone listens 

When You almost died I knew I couldn’t let go 

When You  gave your blessing to move on I couldn’t without you. 

When I needed someone to hold on to you where there 

When I wake up in the night from horriable dreams your arms to comfort are close by. 

When You see me fall you pick me back up 

When you saw me for who I am you still loved me 

When you were taken away I was broken 

When we kiss it feels like nothing us is in this world but us. 

When you smile I  smile. 

When you cry I am the shoulder you can lean on 

When I fail your always supporting me 

When I lost everything you were still there 

When you said you loved me I loved you to. 

When you bake or paint its you create something speical 

When you talk about me you make me feel like your the one

When I told you I am expecting you were overjoyed I know I said I’d never Bring Kids into this broken world but you showed me those wounds can be fixed when we have each other. I feel like if I was to bring kids into the world it would be with you no one else. 

Below are moments where Katniss Notices Peeta 

. I watch him as he makes his way toward the stage. Medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the moment is registering on his face, you can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his blue eyes show the alarm I've seen so often in prey. Yet he climbs steadily onto the stage and takes his place.

The mayor finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for Peeta and me to shake hands. His are as solid and warm as those loaves of bread. Peeta looks me right in the eye and gives my hand what I think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it's just a nervous spasm.

But this seems an odd strategy for Peeta Mellark because he's a baker's son. All those years of having enough to eat and hauling bread trays around have made him broad-shouldered and strong. It will take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him. 

I don't know why, but this rubs me the wrong way. "What about you? I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour," I snap at him. "Tell him that. That's not nothing."

"He can wrestle," I tell Haymitch. "He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother."

What on earth does he mean? People help me? When we were dying of starvation, no one helped me! No one except Peeta. Once I had something to barter with, things changed. I'm a tough trader. Or am I? What effect do I have? That I'm weak and needy? Is he suggesting that I got good deals because people pitied me? I try to think if this is true. Perhaps some of the merchants were a little generous in their trades, but I always attributed that to their long-standing relationship with my father. Besides, my game is first-class. No one pitied me!

It's weird, how much he's noticed me. Like the attention he's paid to my hunting. And apparently, I have not been as oblivious to him as I imagined, either. The flour. The wrestling. I have kept track of the boy with the bread.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky there," says Peeta. "It didn't show," I tell him.

Finally, I fill a plate with rolls and sit at the table, breaking oil bits and dipping them into hot chocolate, the way Peeta did on the train.

  Peeta looks striking in a black suit with flame accents. While we look well together, it's a relief not to be dressed identically.

  Peeta takes off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. I start to take a step back, but then I let him, deciding for a moment to accept both his jacket and his kindness. A friend would do that, right?

"I do the cakes," he admits to me. "The cakes?" I ask. I've been preoccupied with watching the boy from District 2 send a spear through a dummy's heart from fifteen yards. "What cakes?" "At home. The iced ones, for the bakery," he says. He means the ones they display in the windows. Fancy cakes with flowers and pretty things painted in frosting. They're for birthdays and New Year's Day. When we're in the square, Prim always drags me over to admire them, although we'd never be able to afford one. There's little enough beauty in District 12, though, so I can hardly deny her this.

"Peeta?" I whisper. "Where are you?" There's no answer. Could I just have imagined it? No, I'm certain it was real and very close at hand, too. "Peeta?" I creep along the bank. "Well, don't step on me." I jump back. His voice was right under my feet. Still there's nothing. Then his eyes open, unmistakably blue in the brown mud and green leaves. I gasp and am rewarded with a hint of white teeth as he laughs. It's the final word in camouflage. Forget chucking weights around. Peeta should have gone into his private session with the Gamemakers and painted himself into a tree. Or a boulder. Or a muddy bank full of weeds. 

Oh, right, the whole romance thing. I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. Surely not from his father and the witch. 

I fumble. I'm not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen back home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.

I make Peeta put his jacket back on. The damp cold seems to cut right down to my bones, so he must be half frozen. I insist on taking the first watch, too, although neither of us think it's likely anyone will come in this weather. But he won't agree unless I'm in the bag, too, and I'm shivering so hard that it's pointless to object. In stark contrast to two nights ago, when I felt Peeta was a million miles away, I'm struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow, the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.

I make room for him in the sleeping bag. We lean back against the cave wall, my head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around me.

Peeta's a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. In no time, I have the rabbits and squirrel roasting, the roots, wrapped in leaves, baking in the coals.

I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn't be fair on my part.

Catching Fire... 

Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. How people embrace everything he says. He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I'm sure the idea has never crossed his mind.

"So what's wrong?" he asks. I can't tell him. I pick at the clump of weeds. "Let's start with something more basic. Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine ... but I don't know what your favorite color is?" he says. A smile creeps onto my lips. "Green. What's yours?" "Orange," he says. "Orange? Like Effie's hair?" I say. "A bit more muted," he says. "More like ... sunset." Sunset. I can see it immediately, the rim of the descending sun, the sky streaked with soft shades of orange. Beautiful. I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it's all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn't want me to. I'd better stick to small talk. "You know, everyone's always raving about your paintings. I feel bad I haven't seen them," I say. "Well, I've got a whole train car full." He rises and offers me his hand. "Come on." It's good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand. At the door, I remember. "I've got to apologize to Effie first."

I go to my compartment and let the prep team do my hair and makeup. Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color.

Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other's arms, guarding against dangers that can descend at any moment. Nothing else happens, but our arrangement quickly becomes a subject of gossip on the train.

I don't want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don't want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I'm not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. But he seems to sense this and holds me almost at arm's length as we turn on the floor.

When I open my eyes, it's early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta's arm. I don't remember him coming in last night. I turn, being careful not to disturb him, but he's already awake. "No nightmares," he says. "What?" I ask. "You didn't have any nightmares last night," he says. He's right. For the first time in ages I've slept through the night. "I had a dream, though," I say, thinking back. "I was following a mockingjay through the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice." "Where did she take you?" he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. "I don't know. We never arrived," I say. "But I felt happy." "Well, you slept like you were happy," he says. "Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?" I say. "I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror," he says. "You should wake me," I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down. "It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you," he says. "I'm okay once I realize you're here." Ugh. Peeta makes comments like this in such an offhand way, and it's like being hit in the gut. He's only answering my question honestly. He's not pressing me to reply in kind, to make any declaration of love. But I still feel awful, as if I've been using him in some terrible way. Have I? I don't know. I only know that for the first time, I feel immoral about him being here in my bed. Which is ironic since we're officially engaged now. "Be worse when we're home and I'm sleeping alone again," he says. That's right, we're almost home. "No, I'd have told you," I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today. I want to tell him about Twill and Bonnie and the uprising and the fantasy of District 13, but it's not safe to and I can feel myself slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence. "Stay with me." As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don't quite catch it.

Peeta comes by every day to bring me cheese buns and begins to help me work on the family book. It's an old thing, made of parchment and leather. Some herbalist on my mother's side of the family started it ages ago. The book's composed of page after page of ink drawings of plants with descriptions of their medical uses. My father added a section on edible plants that was my guidebook to keeping us alive after his death. For a long time, I've wanted to record my own knowledge in it. Things I learned from experience or from Gale, and then the information I picked up when I was training for the Games. I didn't because I'm no artist and it's so crucial that the pictures are drawn in exact detail. That's where Peeta comes in. Some of the plants he knows already, others we have dried samples of, and others I have to describe. He makes sketches on scrap paper until I'm satisfied they're right, then I let him draw them in the book. After that, I carefully print all I know about the plant.

It's quiet, absorbing work that helps take my mind off my troubles. I like to watch his hands as he works, making a blank page bloom with strokes of ink, adding touches of color to our previously black and yellowish book. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I've seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers' guns away from me in District 11. I don't know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don't notice much because they're so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they're a light golden color and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.

One afternoon Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks up so suddenly that I start, as though I were caught spying on him, which in a strange way maybe I was. But he only says, "You know, I think this is the first time we've ever done anything normal together." "Yeah," I agree. Our whole relationship has been tainted by the Games. Normal was never a part of it. "Nice for a change." Each afternoon he carries me downstairs for a change of scenery and I unnerve everyone by turning on the television

I order warm milk, the most calming thing I can think of, from an attendant. Hearing voices from the television room, I go in and find Peeta. Beside him on the couch is the box Effie sent of tapes of the old Hunger Games. I recognize the episode in which Brutus became victor. Peeta rises and flips off the tape when he sees me. "Couldn't sleep?" "Not for long," I say. I pull the robe more securely around me as I remember the old woman transforming into the rodent. "Want to talk about it?" he asks. Sometimes that can help, but I just shake my head, feeling weak that people I haven't even fought yet already haunt me. When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight into them. It's the first time since they announced the Quarter Quell that he's offered me any sort of affection. He's been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go. And why should I? I have said good-bye to Gale. I'll never see him again, that's for certain. Nothing I do now can hurt him. He won't see it or he'll think I am acting for the cameras. That, at least, is one weight off my shoulders. The arrival of the Capitol attendant with the warm milk is what breaks us apart. He sets a tray with a steaming ceramic jug and two mugs on a table. "I brought an extra cup," he says. "Thanks," I say. "And I added a touch of honey to the milk. For sweetness. And just a pinch of spice," he adds. He looks at us like he wants to say more, then gives his head a slight shake and backs out of the room. "What's with him?" I say. "I think he feels bad for us," says Peeta. "Right," I say, pouring the milk. "I mean it. I don't think the people in the Capitol are going to be all that happy about our going back in," says Peeta. "Or the other victors. They get attached to their champions."

Peeta would lose it if he knew I was thinking any of this, so I only say, "So what should we do with our last few days?" "I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," Peeta replies."Come on, then," I say, pulling him into my room.It feels like such a luxury, sleeping with Peeta again. I didn't realize until now how starved I've been for human closeness. For the feel of him beside me in the darkness. I wish I hadn't wasted the last couple of nights shutting him out. I sink down into sleep, enveloped in his warmth, and when I open my eyes again, daylight's streaming through the windows."No nightmares," he says."No nightmares," I confirm. "You?""None. I'd forgotten what a real night's sleep feels like," he says.We lie there for a while, in no rush to begin the day. Tomorrow night will be the televised interview, so today Effie and Haymitch should be coaching us. More high heels and sarcastic comments, I think. But then the redheaded Avox girl comes in with a note from Effie saying that, given our recent tour, both she and Haymitch have agreed we can handle ourselves adequately in public. The coaching sessions have been canceled."Really?" says Peeta, taking the note from my hand and examining it. "Do you know what this means? We'll have the whole day to ourselves.""It's too bad we can't go somewhere," I say wistfully."Who says we can't?" he asks.The roof. We order a bunch of food, grab some blankets, and head up to the roof for a picnic. A daylong picnic in the flower garden that tinkles with wind chimes. We eat. We lie in the sun. I snap off hanging vines and use my newfound knowledge from training to practice knots and weave nets. Peeta sketches me. We make up a game with the force field that surrounds the roof - one of us throws an apple into it and the other person has to catch it.No one bothers us. By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peeta's lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he's practicing his knots. After a while, his hands go still. "What?" I ask."I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever," he says.Usually this sort of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I'll never have, I just let the word slip out. "Okay."I can hear the smile in his voice. "Then you'll allow it?""I'll allow it," I say.His fingers go back to my hair and I doze off, but he rouses me to see the sunset. It's a spectacular yellow and orange blaze behind the skyline of the Capitol. "I didn't think you'd want to miss it," he says."Thanks," I say. Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.We don't go and join the others for dinner, and no one summons us."I'm glad. I'm tired of making everyone around me so miserable," says Peeta. "Everybody crying. Or Haymitch ..." He doesn't need to go on.We stay on the roof until bedtime and then quietly slip down to my room without encountering anyone.The next morning, we're roused by my prep team. The sight of Peeta and me sleeping together is too much for Octavia, because she bursts into tears right away. "You remember what Cinna told us," Venia says fiercely. Octavia nods and goes out sobbing.

Peeta's in an elegant tuxedo and white gloves. The sort of thing grooms wear to get married in, here in the Capitol.

We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the makeup and meet me in a few minutes, but I won't let him. I'm certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I'll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand. Do we sleep? I don't know. We spend the night holding each other, in some halfway land between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in the hope that we'll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest.

I rush over to where he lies, motionless in a web of vines. "Peeta?" There's a faint smell of singed hair. I call his name again, giving him a little shake, but he's unresponsive. My fingers fumble across his lips, where there's no warm breath although moments ago he was panting. I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.

Peeta and I sit on the damp sand, facing away from each other, my right shoulder and hip pressed against his. I watch the water as he watches the jungle, which is better for me. I'm still haunted by the voices of the jabberjays, which unfortunately the insects can't drown out. After a while I rest my head against his shoulder. Feel his hand caress my hair. "Katniss," he says softly, "it's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do." No, I guess there isn't, but it's no fun discussing it, either. Well, not for us, anyway. The Capitol viewers will be glued to their sets so they don't miss one wretched word. "I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well." Of course, I know this, too. He told Peeta they could keep me alive so that he wouldn't be suspicious. "So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us." This gets my attention. A double deal. A double promise. With only Haymitch knowing which one is real. I raise my head, meet Peeta's eyes. "Why are you saying this now?" "Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life," he says. "I would never be happy again." I start to object but he puts a finger to my lips. "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living." Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn't notice before and the disk pops open. It's not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. And on the left, Gale. Actually smiling. There is nothing in the world that could break me faster at this moment than these three faces. After what I heard this afternoon ... it is the perfect weapon. "Your family needs you, Katniss," Peeta says. My family. My mother. My sister. And my pretend cousin Gale. But Peeta's intention is clear. That Gale really is my family, or will be one day, if I live. That I'll marry him. So Peeta's giving me his life and Gale at the same time. To let me know I shouldn't ever have doubts about it. Everything. That's what Peeta wants me to take from him. I wait for him to mention the baby, to play to the cameras, but he doesn't. And that's how I know that none of this is part of the Games. That he is telling me the truth about what he feels. "No one really needs me," he says, and there's no self-pity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me. "I do," I say. "I need you." He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I'll just get confused. So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss. I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down. This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind. It's the first crack of the lightning storm - the bolt hitting the tree at midnight - that brings us to our senses. It rouses Finnick as well. He sits up with a sharp cry. I see his fingers digging into the sand as he reassures himself that whatever nightmare he inhabited wasn't real. "I can't sleep anymore," he says. "One of you should rest." Only then does he seem to notice our expressions, the way we're wrapped around each other. "Or both of you. I can watch alone." Peeta won't let him, though. "It's too dangerous," he says. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." I don't object because I do need to sleep if I'm to be of any use keeping him alive. I let him lead me over to where the others are. He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. "You're going to make a great mother, you know," he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick. His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn't used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated. But as I stretch out on the sand I wonder, could it be more? Like a reminder to me that I could still one day have kids with Gale? Well, if that was it, it was a mistake. Because for one thing, that's never been part of my plan. And for another, if only one of us can be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta. As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe.

push people aside until I am right in front of him, my hand resting on the screen. I search his eyes for any sign of hurt, any reflection of the agony of torture. There is nothing. Peeta looks healthy to the point of robustness. His skin is glowing, flawless, in that full-body-polish way. His manner's composed, serious. I can't reconcile this image with the battered, bleeding boy who haunts my dreams.

I'm light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He'll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven't dared let myself consider until this moment. Peeta's awake already, sitting on the side of the bed, looking bewildered as a trio of doctors reassure him, flash lights in his eyes, check his pulse. I'm disappointed that mine was not the first face he saw when he woke, but he sees it now. His features register disbelief and something more intense that I can't quite place. Desire? Desperation? Surely both, for he sweeps the doctors aside, leaps to his feet, and moves toward me. I run to meet him, my arms extended to embrace him. His hands are reaching for me, too, to caress my face, I think.

At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. "Your favorite color...it's green?" "That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange." "Orange?" He seems unconvinced. "Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once." "Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you." But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces." Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.

He looks well. Thin and covered with burn scars like me, but his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look. He's frowning slightly, though, as he takes me in. I make a halfhearted effort to push my hair out of my eyes and realize it's matted into clumps. I feel defensive. "What are you doing?"

"You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real," he whispers. "Real," I answer. It seems to require more explanation. "Because that's what you and I do. Protect each other." After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.

"Leave me," he whispers. "I can't hang on." "Yes. You can!" I tell him. Peeta shakes his head. "I'm losing it. I'll go mad. Like them." Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today. It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me." Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. "No. I don't want to..." I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.

"I think...you still have no idea. The effect you can have." He slides his cuffs up the support and pushes himself to a sitting position. "None of the people we lost were idiots. They knew what they were doing. They followed you because they believed you really could kill Snow." I don't know why his voice reaches me when no one else's can. But if he's right, and I think he is, I owe the others a debt that can only be repaid in one way.

Through the water in the glass, I see a distorted image of one of Peeta's hands. The burn marks. We are both fire mutts now. My eyes travel up to where the flames licked across his forehead, singeing away his brows but just missing his eyes. Those same blue eyes that used to meet mine and then flit away at school. Just as they do now.

I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta's eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock. "Let me go!" I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp. "I can't," he says. As they pull me away from him, I feel the pocket ripped from my sleeve, see the deep violet pill fall to the ground, watch Cinna's last gift get crunched under a guard's boot.

Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real."

They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much.

[my-emotional-self]

The Mission Chapter 2

Pairings: Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a past murder

Summary: Ari Levinson tries to recruit you for Operation Brothers.  While you weren’t ready for any kind of mission, you obliged after much consideration. You didn’t plan on falling in love along the way.  But will Ari return those feelings? Or will his heart only be on the mission?

“Ethan, it’s me, Y/N,” you said with a shaky breath.  It had been quite some time since you talked to Ethan and for some reason, you were a bit nervous.

“Ahh, Y/N, it’s good to hear from you.  I honestly didn’t think you would call so soon.  I figured it would have taken a week or two.  Ari must have worked some sort of charm on you.”

A chuckle escaped past your lips before realization sunk in.  “Wait.  Ari? As in Ari Levinson?”

This time Ethan chuckled from his end.  “Of course Ari Levinson.  Who else would it be?”

Your mind danced as you had an epiphany.  It was Ari at the diner yesterday recruiting you for a mission.  He had looked so familiar to you, but you just couldn’t connect the dots.  Naturally you had never worked with Ari while working for the Mossad, but he was well known that was for sure.  You had heard all about him and all the missions he had been on to save as many lives as possible.  He was not only determined and utterly dedicated to his job, he was also quick on his feet; able to get out of sticky situations.  

“He-he never told me his name, although he did look familiar to me.”  True, you had never met Ari, but you had seen pictures and heard a lot of stories.  

“Why don’t you come into the office this morning and we can have a chat,” Ethan remarked.  

“Sure, that sounds great Ethan.  I’ll be there in an hour.”

After hanging up the phone, you showered and got dressed in record time.  You were wearing an all jean jumpsuit with a thick belt around the middle; large framed sunglasses to shield your eyes from the bright sun.  

Grabbing a taxi, you began to nervously bounce your leg; your hands gripping together as you felt the sweat begin to form on the back of your neck.  Were you really ready to do this?  Hell, you didn’t even know what the mission was about and you were already beginning to worry.  Deep down, you knew it wasn’t about the mission itself however.  No, it was much more than that.  A year it had been since Deborah had been murdered, and you didn’t know if you had the willpower or the mentality to throw yourself into something that needed your full undivided attention; you still weren’t over her death.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you again,” Ethan greeted you at his office door with open arms.  Smiling, you walked forward and were engulfed in his arms.  From the moment you had first met Ethan, you felt safe around him; he was like a father figure to you.  “Come, let’s have a chat.”

The two of you quickly began falling into an easy conversation about how things have been since last seeing one another.  Naturally you shed a few tears when Ethan asked how you were coping with what happened to Deborah and he consoled you with tender arms.  

“Now, the mission,” Ethan begun and you gave him a slight nod.  “What do you know about what is happening in Ethiopia?”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as pictures of bloodied and dead Ethiopian Jews flooded your mind.  “They-they are being tortured and killed by the government.  Practically another genocide but not many people seem to care because it’s happening in Africa.”

Ethan nodded, knowing this specific mission would touch your heart because you too were Jewish.  More tears sprung your eyes as anger began to boil deep in your veins over what was happening to them.  They were helpless and they were getting slaughtered.  

“That’s what the mission is about.  Ari had been working on getting as many of them safely back here as possible.  He ran into some trouble and while I pulled him from that mission temporarily, he came up with a brilliant plan.  There is an abandoned hotel in Sudan, right on the Red Sea and he is using the hotel as a cover to smuggle the refugees onto a Navy boat that will be disguised as an oil boat.”

You couldn’t help but listen in awe of what Ethan had just told you.  This was why Ari was so well known throughout the agency.  He had brilliant ideas and wanted nothing more than to save as many lives as he possibly could.  

“Wow,” you breathed out, leaning back in your chair.  “That’s pretty dangerous.”

“Yes, I agree.  And I’ve already broken many of my own risk rules. One of them is sending a woman to a Muslim country and if you agreed to this, I would be sending two.  But I believe in you Y/N.  I know this mission grows deep for you and that is why I recommended you to Ari.  He has put together his own team of five people and you would be the sixth person on that mission.  I do not know how long they will be there.  It could be a few months, it could be many years.  There are a lot of risks involved, more risks than any mission you have done before.”

“Can I take some time to think about it?”

“Of course.  But please let me know your answer as soon as you decide.  I need to get started on a passport and documents for you, as well as get your travel set up.  They will be flying out in five days.”

You bid goodbye to Ethan, hailed another taxi and headed back to your apartment.  Setting your purse down on the kitchen counter, you collapsed onto your plush couch.  With your fingers at your temples, you began to slowly massage them in a clockwise circle.

Just six months ago you started your job at the diner, putting everything behind you.  Settling down, not being in the Peace Corps or doing any missions for the Mossad is not something you thought would happen; you thought you would be a lifer.  But it all changed last year with Deborah.  Now, you were living quietly in your quaint apartment with a nice little waitressing job.  And yet again, your life changed when Ari came into the diner and wanted to recruit you for a mission.  Without even knowing the mission, you didn’t want any involvement.  But now after talking with Ethan, your heart was torn. The whole reason you joined the Peace Corps was because you wanted just that, peace.  You didn’t want wars or famine, didn’t want people starving and dying. And now, this mission, like Ethan said, dug deeper for you because it wouldn’t only be saving thousands of lives, it would be saving thousands of Jewish lives.  

Groaning, you lay your head back on the couch, telling yourself you would sleep on the decision. Yet you knew damn well what your answer would be.  

The following morning you called up Ethan, letting him know that you would agree to be a part of this dangerous and risky mission.  Not wanting to up and quit your job in case you wanted to come back to it, you told Ethan to give you an extra few days and you would just fly in by yourself.  

After getting to work, you told your boss you would be quitting, but would work the rest of your shifts that week.  

Ethan told you to get an alias and you spent your nights going over any and all details you could think of for your new alias to get you through the airport in Sudan.  

The flight wasn’t as long as you had thought and getting through customs was a bit shaky, but you emerged without any problems.  Placing your luggage into the backseat of the car Ethan had rented for you, you traveled the eight hours from Khartoum to the Red Sea Diving Resort.  

Traveling all day left you exhausted and all you wanted to do was crawl into a bed and sleep. Pulling up to the resort, your heart sunk at the sight.  Without a doubt, it had truly been abandoned for years.  

Opening the door of the car, you stretched your limbs; a few of them cracking from sitting for so long.

Glancing along the length of the resort, your eyes were trained back to the main entrance where five people came out to see who was here.  

“Hi,” you said shyly, waving at the five of them.  Ari was standing in front, a large grin on his face as he walked towards you.  

Before you knew it, you were wrapped up in his strong arms as he let out a guff of laughter. “Y/N!  I didn’t think you’d come.  But I’m so happy you are here.”  He placed you down, your feet hitting the warm sand as you smiled up at him.  It hadn’t been long since you last saw him, but those fantasies never left your head over the last week.  And now, being near him again, those lustful feelings only intensified.  

“Let’s all go somewhere a little more private to talk,” Ari said with an air of authority to his tone. He picked up your suitcase and quickly brought it into the hotel.  Then, you followed him, along with the other four and got onto a dinghy and boated away from the shore to where you could all talk in private.  

Forever Tag List: @badassbaker @guera31 @tanelle83 @xjjlex @chrisevansfanfic @princess-evans-addict @joannie95 @pumbibaby @patzammit @brastrangled @mrs-captain-evans @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @bornfortherainydays @poerebel @raveviolet @livslookingforloki @southerngracela @the-wayward-robot @scuzmunkie @cinna-minseok @laura-gzz @beautifulrare4leafclover @emogeographics @chocolate-cutting 

Ari Tag List: @angrybirdcr @beautifulbashfulblackqueen @itssweetprison @thiccstuxky @writerwithfluffysocks @ohmyevans @ari-levinson @jennmurawski13 @rimbougrine @littlemaatta @thisisjeany @capsbooty7 @anjana-fandoms28 @thepriestessofavalon @ladybugsfanfics @xchrisxevansx @draeluna @mgosal43 @symonlyjen5 @mustangshelby04 @technicallykawaiisoul @chibi-crazy @capamericaevans @peach-acid 

[blissfulparker]

Operation Valentines→t.h

Parings—tom x reader

Warnings—none

Summary—when your daughter makes tom set up the perfect valentine day morning.

A/n—this is for @naturallytom! I’m your secret valentine, I hope you enjoy this and I hope that your day was good as well! We don’t know each other but after following you, you seem like a really sweet person(you’re also really pretty What the actual frick!) but hope you enjoy it💝

“Daddy,” a soft voice whispered into Toms ear early in the moring. “Daddy, get up get up!” The voice said again. It was the voice that belonged to his little daughter, Valerie.

Tom opened his eyes and looked around to see just how bright it was, the curtains let the sun leak in and there laid you next to tom curled up on your side with a semi swollen stomach of your unborn son.

“Sweetheart it’s...” tom grabbed his phone and checked the time. “6:30 in the morning. How are you even up?” He asked the 6 year old who seemed to know so much.

“It’s mummy’s second favorite holiday, we have to make her something.” The girl tried to say but the two teeth she needed to pronounce words with were missing.

“Okay, okay, what do you want me to do.” He said sitting up making sure not to move the bed enough to wake you.

“Uh...” she looked around for a second. She was far ahead of Tom, he hadn’t gotten you flowers he was gonna do that later but his daughter in front of him was about to make him do it now. “We need flowers, the white ones! She’s eating a lot of ice cream so we need ice cream, oh and we need to make her cino—cinna—syno—cinnamon rolls!” She somewhat shouts and Toms hushs her as you shifted in your sleep.

“Okay okay, go get your shoes I’ll be down in a minute.” Tom says and the little girl runs out her small feet padding on the wooden floor and back into her room.

“Hey darling?” Tom kisses your neck and you hum. “Val needs me to go pick up some poster board for a school project she wants to do today, we’ll be back in about 10 minuets.” He kisses your lips softly before he softly rubs the stomach giving a good morning to his son.

“Alright,” You kiss his hand before going back to sleep. “We Love You.” You say before drifting back off into sleep.

“I love you too.” He smiled before he throws on a shirt and his shoes to meet his little girl down stairs.

He was greeted by the little girl sitting on the couch finishing up the card she had made for you, her tongue was sticking out and her big brown curls were stuck in her face. Tom quickly came over and grabbed the curly mess and stuck it into a ponytail before he was yelled at by you for the mess of your daughters hair.

~

“Okay so we need the heart shaped chocolate!” She pushes the cart with tom behind her and grabs a small box of chocolate for you. He knew she had all your smartness because she talked like she was as old as the two of you.

“Alright I think this is enough, besides Daddy got mummy some things the other day for when you go to nans and gramps tonight.” He told her as he rubbed his eyes still tired. The small girl looked up at him with chocolate brown eyes blinking a few times before she spoke.

“Okay.” She simply said before going back to trying to push the cart. “We go home now?” She asked and tom nodded still needing his cup of coffee to get him though the morning.

“Yeah, we go home now.” He says as he helps her push her way to checkout.

“Why can’t I go to uncle haz tonight?” She slightly complained as tom scans the items.

“He has a girlfriend he’s spending it with.” He says and she plays with her shirt that has patterns of kittens all over it.

“What about Uncle Sam?” She asks looking at him again.

“He has a girlfriend too.” He says and she huffs out.

“Uncle harry doesn’t have a girlfriend!” She says and tom looks over at her and huffs.

“Yeah But he likes to spend this holiday alone.” He shrugged and then the conversation was over with her.

The girl looked around as she was thinking noticing that no one was even here this early in the morning and that her father was practically falling asleep while he scanned the items.

“Maybe I should get a boyfriend.” She whispered and Toms head snapped to her.

“You are not getting a boyfriend!” He told her sternly before shaking his head in shock. “Besides, nan and gramps is great! You watch movies and play games and mummy and I get the night to ourselves.” He says the last part more to himself.

“Yeah, But nan wants to go out tonight and every time we go out it’s boring.” She complains and tom just touches the top of her head.

“Nan and gramps love you and you should love them.” He says and she just holds onto his hand.

“I know.” She says and he grabs the bags before taking the receipt.

“Then you will have a good time tonight and they will bring you home in the morning.” He tells her and she nods as they walk out the store.

“Okay.” She whines a little before they get into the car so they can go home and start the Valentine’s Day you deserved.

~

The sounds of crashing woke you up, by the time the two of them got home to start making you cinnamon rolls they only suspected you were fast asleep and the sound wouldn’t wake you up. They were wrong though, there was a loud sound of a pan falling and you could only assume it was valarie.

“What the hell?” You mumbled to yourself as you brought yourself up to a sat up position. Your hand went to your swollen bump. “What are they doing down there huh?” You asked the little boy who had kicked you once again.

You brought yourself out of the bed putting on socks before deciding to walk out into the kitchen to investigate what was happening. The sound of being shushed and Valerie talking got louder and louder.

“What’s all this?” You asked seeing the sight of the two in front of you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” She ran up to you and you gladly picked the small girl up and held her in your arms.

“What are you doing?” You asked her and she looked at you with her fathers big brown eyes.

“Making you cinnamon rolls.” She blinked a few times and you gave her a big kiss on the cheek. She squirmed out of your arms to go back over to the pan placing them out trying to do it instead of tom.

“Good morning darling.” Tom came over placing his hands on your abdomen and a soft kiss on your lips.

“Mmh,” You mumble pulling him closer. “Good morning.” You hold him in your arms before looking over at the girl who took control. “Her idea or yours?” You asked and he sighed.

“Her idea big time, wanted you to have the best Valentine’s Day.” He said and you laughed and little resting your head on his shoulder.

“She sure is a leader.” You say as you watch her try and get everything perfect.

“Yeah, I’m going back to helping her before she sets our house on fire. Just relax for now love everything will be done in a second.” He tells you and you sit on the stool watching the two work together to make sure everything goes right.

“I made you a card.” Val comes over with a card most likely from school. It was pink and blue with glitter falling off of it and onto the floor.

“It’s beautiful baby.” You tell her picking her up and kissing her cheek. “I love it thank you.”

The little girl hops off your leg and walks over putting on her favorite show and now ignoring the two of you falling into the trance of peppa pig.

“We’re still on for tonight, yes?” You ask tom as he wraps his arms around your waist and yours find a way to his shoulders.

“Oh yeah,” he says and dips down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “I just need it to be me and you tonight.” He says and you laugh a little at how needy he already was. Having to watch a six year old who either constantly needed attention or needed to be alone was exhausting.

“Good,” you plant a kiss on his shoulder. “Because I’m so tired and am so ready just to lay in bed all night with you not having to worry about anything else.” You tell him and he smirks.

“Trust me my parents will be by at around 5:30 to pick her up and then we have until 8:30 in the morning tomorrow.” He tells you the plan and you nod.

“Perfect.” You kiss him one last time. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[kriscme]

One Life To Live

Hi, here’s the latest chapter.   Thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” which you can find on AO3 and FanFiction.   Subject to change if it suits the plot and when finished  will go on AO3. Chapter 23

It’s almost dark when we get home.   It’s my fault.    I spent half the night awake worrying over Peeta and the other half having nightmares of shooting arrow after arrow into a force field only to have them bounce back and hit Peeta instead.    Eventually I fell into a fitful sleep but when I woke, I found I’d overslept by nearly two hours.   Marcus said he didn’t wake me because he thought I needed the rest. But it put us behind, when we had planned a long walk for that day.   While Marcus heats up vegetable and bean soup, I put some left-over cheese buns in the oven to freshen up.  Dinner is almost ready when we’re interrupted by a knock at the front door.  It’s Johanna.   I step aside to let her in, but she doesn’t move from the porch.   “I’m not staying,” she says, her voice low.   “I thought you might like to know what’s going on with Peeta.  He got home last night just as I was getting into bed.   I didn’t see him until about mid-morning though when he came down for something to eat. He seemed – I don’t know – sort of flat and disinterested, like someone who doesn’t know what they should feel.   It’s hard to explain.  And when I went to apologize for last night, he just waved it away like it didn’t matter.  And then he went into his room to paint, and when he came out, it was to bake.   And that’s what he’s been doing all day – baking and painting.  He did phone Dr Aurelius though.  I accidently overheard some of it.”   “What did he say?”  I ask, putting aside any scruples that we’re discussing Peeta’s private conversation with his therapist. “Well, I only heard snatches, but it was like, “don’t know what’s real,” “deceived by someone I should trust,” “got everything wrong,” and “feel like not trying anymore.”  He didn’t really say that much.  Dr Aurelius seemed to do most of the talking.” “Anything about me?” I ask fearfully. I’m sure that if there was, it was bad. Johanna swallows and shifts her gaze to somewhere over my left shoulder.  There’s something she doesn’t want to tell me.  A stone lodges in my stomach and rises up into my throat.  “Katniss, I think it was all about you.  While he was talking, he was holding something in his hand, a necklace of some kind.  I found it by the phone after he hung up.  It was his token from the Quell.  The one he gave you.” The locket.  The locket with Prim, Gale, and my mother’s photos in it.  I had given it back to him months ago hoping that it might trigger some memories.  I rack my brain for what it could mean.  Why would he leave it discarded by the phone after saying those things about me?  At the very least, the locket was a symbol of the unity and trust between us.  It could mean only one thing.  He’s given up on me.  It’s over.  It’s really over.   “I see,” I say.  I wrap my arms tightly around myself in an effort to keep it together. “Is there anything else?” “No,” she answers, ‘but if there’s anything new, I’ll let you know.   I hope you don’t mind if I don’t accept your invitation to come stay with you.   I think it best if I remain with Peeta for the time being, in case he needs someone to talk to.  Someone he can trust.”   I flinch at the word “trust” but I know Johanna doesn’t mean anything by it.  I’m glad she’s staying with him, and that he has someone he can depend on. It’s almost certain that Peeta won’t look to me for anything anymore.   “Is the wedding still on?” I ask. Johanna shrugs.  “I think so.  He’d say something wouldn’t he?  If it was off? He’s still wearing her ring.”  Lace had given him a ring on their engagement.  It’s silver with a love knot.  Lace told him that it’s a symbol of love and devotion.  All I saw was another way to mark her territory.

“I didn’t think Peeta would break up with her over it,” I say.  “I knew he’d understand, if given the chance.” Johanna gives my arm a sympathetic squeeze before she makes her way back to Peeta’s house.  I linger a while at the door to compose myself before I face Marcus. He doesn’t need me breaking down again. I’ve already made a mess of one sweater. In the kitchen, Marcus is ladling soup into bowls.  He’s retrieved the cheese buns from the oven and set them on a plate in the center of the table.

“Johanna?” he asks. “Yes,” I say, hoping that that will suffice.

Marcus places a bowl of soup in front of me.  It’s thick and nourishing and smells delicious, but I have little appetite.  Nonetheless, I pick up my spoon and start eating.  I need to force myself to do the normal things.  I can’t let despondency over Peeta take control.  That’s a sure way to spiral into depression.   I take a cheese bun to dip into my soup and wonder if it will be the last of the Peeta-made cheese buns I’ll get to eat.   Did he ever remember how he first came to make them for me?  Probably not. “It’s unusual for her to call around mealtime and not stay to eat,” Marcus observes. “She just came to tell me how Peeta is,” I say. I don’t want to talk about Peeta, but Marcus merits some kind of explanation.  How could he not be curious after witnessing what he did last night, and then having to deal with the aftermath of a distraught female sobbing inconsolably against his chest?  “She didn’t want to stay away too long.  She’s worried about him.” ‘Oh.  And, how is he?” he asks, his expression unreadable.  

“Not great, by the sound of things,” I say.  “Johanna says he hasn’t said much.  Disillusioned with everyone, I guess.” “Well, naturally he would be.  With his fiancé.  I don’t understand why he took it out on everyone else, though,” he says. By everyone, I understand he means me. I was the only one Peeta attacked last night.

“It’s not his fault,” I hasten to say, feeling moved to rush to Peeta’s defense, whether it’s merited or not.  “You’re from the Capitol.  You don’t know what he went through after he was captured. “ “I think I have some idea,” says Marcus, with the first hint of irritation I’ve seen from him.  “It seems to be a common perception in the Districts that if you’re from the Capitol, you were somehow immune from Snow.  Well, we weren’t.   We all knew what happened to anyone reckless enough to speak out against him.  Most of the menial work in the library was done by Avoxes, you know.  I suppose Snow put them there as a joke. No one had to tell them to be quiet.  I doubt if the victims found it funny though. “  

“I didn’t mean – “I begin.   I want to tell him that what I meant was that you really had to see how Peeta was after the hijacking to understand him.  But Marcus continues as if I hadn’t spoken.  He seems determined to get this out. “The Games weren’t just mandatory viewing for the Districts either.  Maybe not in the way it was for you, with it being policed.  But if a neighbor found out, and reported that you weren’t as enthusiastic as you should be, well, people had a way of disappearing.  And I know the Games had its avid supporters, with their sponsorships, and betting, and making celebrities out of the winners.  But there was also many of us who hated them and wanted them gone.   But we were afraid.  Afraid of having our tongues cut out.  Or worse. So, for the most part, we kept quiet, pretended to go along with it, and went about our lives.  Which was very comfortable by most standards – even if the conscience pricked now and then.” Better them than us, I suppose.  Would people in the Districts have behaved any differently, if the positions were reversed?  I like to think so but honesty compels me to admit that we probably would have been exactly the same.   The Capitol was made up of all kinds of people. There were some who exploited the inequality and perhaps even believed we deserved it.  And there were those who simply accepted it as just the way of things, like my prep team.   And yet others like . . . I become aware that Marcus is watching me as if he expects some kind of condemnation and I remember one of our earlier conversations about how the Capitol viewed the Districts.  It dawns on me that there’s a lot of guilt carried by Marcus and others like him.  Maybe this is why he’s so intent on preserving all the forests across Panem when he could have chosen just to fight for the one in his own district.  It’s a way of making restitution, of ensuring a better Panem for the future.  The more I’ve got to know Marcus, the more this makes sense to me.  He’s not at ease in front of the cameras like Peeta.  He likes solitary pursuits like reading and hiking mountain trails, not giving interviews or appearing on television.  He’s had to stretch far out of his comfort zone to take on the public role he has.   I choose my words carefully.  “That’s how Snow operated.  It was the same here.  All of us too scared to move in case we made it worse for ourselves.   And he set people against each other to keep them apart.  I know there were people in the Capitol who sympathetic to the Districts. You remember my stylist, Cinna? He designed the wedding dress that turned me into a mockingjay.  They killed him for that, and he knew they would.  And there was the camera crew who filmed the propos for the rebellion.  One of them was an Avox.  I don’t know what offense he committed, but he was put to work in the sewers.  So, if this is about what Lace said last night, about people from the Capitol having no morals –“

“I don’t care what Lace thinks, but I do care what you think.” “Well, you don’t have to convince me.  I saw what the Capitol was capable of doing to its own citizens.  But you have to understand that most people in the Districts didn’t get to see that. They only saw how much you had of everything while we starved.  And then there was the Games, of course.  But when I said you wouldn’t understand about Peeta, I didn’t mean that because you were from the Capitol, you couldn’t know how cruel Snow was.    I meant you didn’t see what the hijacking did to him.  How it changed him.” “I saw him try to bash your head in with the butt of his gun and then kick the poor guy who tried to subdue him into a pod,” he replies, his face set hard.  “And then at Snow’s execution, when he attacked you again.” “No, no that’s not – “I start to say.  I have to restrain myself from putting my hands to my face and groaning.  Not Marcus too!    “I know how it would have looked on TV, but there’s more to it than that.”  I really can’t blame Marcus for what he thinks he knows, any more than I can blame Max. They only saw what the Capitol wanted them to see and there’s been nothing since – no counter-claims, no witness accounts – that could contradict the Capitol’s version of it.  One day someone is going to have to write a true account of what happened.  Someone who was actually there.   I think quickly, going back to that day when Boggs was killed.  We had taken refuge in a deserted apartment after a massive wave of black tar-like gel engulfed the streets.  Inside the apartment was a spiral staircase that led to a living room with plush furniture and a huge television that covered an entire wall.  Peeta was cuffed and unconscious and draped over one of the sofas and the rest of us were milling around, unsure of our next move, when suddenly the television came to life.  Cressida explained that it was an emergency broadcast that went to all the televisions across the Capitol.  Presumably it was also broadcast to the Districts if Max had seen it.  

The footage started just after the bomb that took off Bogg’s legs. Homes and I are seen tending to Boggs, huddled over him, our backs to the cameras.  Peeta stands to the side, watching, hopping from one foot to the other, clearly agitated.   Chaos erupts when a wall of thick black goo surges towards us.  Homes and I begin to drag Boggs to safety and he cries out in agony.   Then Peeta, in one swift movement, seizes me by the shoulders, yanks me backwards and I crash to the ground.  His gun is raised to smash into my skull, but I manage to roll in the nick of time, and the gun slams down onto the pavement.  Mitchell tackles Peeta to the ground, but Peeta gets his feet under him and catapults him further down the road, straight into the pod that kills him.  Other members of the squad rush in to restrain Peeta, and he threshes wildly in their grip like an animal caught in a trap.     It’s all very damning.  And it was played over and over, with close-ups of Peeta’s face, distorted with maniacal fury.  It was made even worse by the voice-over.  It described Peeta as a dangerous lunatic, so crazed with blood lust, that not even the girl he purports to love more than life itself is safe from him.   And then there’s Snow’s execution.  I don’t know what the media did with this, if anything.  I was in solitary confinement and I know nothing of the aftermath.  But I can imagine how it must have appeared to the audience.  The shock and disbelief when my arrow pierced Coin’s heart and she toppled lifeless to the ground.  The guards, stunned into inaction, were slow to react.  In those remaining seconds of freedom, I contemplated my future – torture, execution – and decided to end my life.   But the audience couldn’t have known what I was thinking.  Nor could they have known about the nightlock pill secreted in a small pocket on my sleeve.  What they do know is that Peeta hurled himself forward to seize me by the arm and of my attempts to wrest myself free by sinking my teeth into his hand, and struggling against him with all my might.   Could it have been in self- defense?  I can see how it might have been interpreted that way.   I put down my spoon.  I have a lot of clearing up to do.   But where to start . . . “They say the beginning is a good place,” says Marcus.   I didn’t realise I’d said it aloud.  But yes, the beginning.   The day Peeta tossed me two loaves of bread and took a beating for it. “So, you see, that ran so counter to his true self,” I say, as I come to the end.  “And he did in fact, save my life two more times after that . . . ah, incident with the gun.  And you also have to remember that he only did it because he thought someone was being harmed.” “Harmed by you, to be precise.  He didn’t attack the other guy,” he points out. “No, but it was me Peeta had been programmed to think of as a mutt and a danger to others.  Later he came to see it as false.  And, of course, Dr Aurelius wouldn’t have allowed him to be released if it wasn’t safe.   Afterall, he was only a threat to me and he knew Peeta intended to return to 12.”  As I speak, a terrible thought occurs to me. The way he spoke to me last night. Maybe he thought Lace was under attack, and I was responsible for it.  That without him being aware of it, he still thinks I’m a mutt.  It would explain a lot.  His distrust of me, his initial reluctance to regain memories of our past together, the guest room ban, the way he’s interpreted the way he has. It’s to keep me at a safe distance. As anyone would, with a treacherous mutt.  

“Why did he come back?  Was it to rekindle your relationship?” “Huh?”  The question startles me, bringing my attention abruptly back to our discussion.  I almost want to laugh.  The incongruity of Peeta wanting to make love to a mutt.   “I’m sorry.  It’s none of my business.  I shouldn’t have – “he begins.   “No, it’s OK,” I assure him.  It’s not unreasonable for him to ask.  I’ve been baring my soul about everything else.  I had even told him how I felt about Peeta – how confused I was in the beginning and how I gradually came to feel the same way for him as he did for me.   The difficulty though, is that I don’t really know why he did come back.   I thought I did, but I turned out to be so wrong.  The primrose bushes, coaxing me out of my depression with cheese buns and cozy breakfasts together, were overtures of friendship, not romantic interest. And I wasn’t the only one with expectations.  The public had too and it’s not so surprising considering how the star-crossed lovers was promoted.  No longer together?  Peeta in love with another? Unthinkable!  I see the speculative way people look at me when they learn that Peeta is with another girl now.  Some pityingly, others accusingly as if it’s something I did.  I don’t know what Peeta tells them, assuming they ask.  Possibly what he told Lace, that the star-crossed lovers had never been real and now we’re just good friends, as we were always meant to be.   “I’m not sure.  We’ve never had that conversation. But 12 is his home.  And his house is here. He thinks of Haymitch and me as family.  There’s a bond that forms between fellow Victors,” I say, with a shrug.

“How do you feel about him now?  Are you OK with how things turned out?”

He watches me closely, as if something important hinges on what answer I give.   I barely know myself how I feel about Peeta now.  I still love him; I know that much.  But my trust in him has eroded to the point where I don’t know if it exists anymore. As to being fine with how things turned out, the honest answer is a decided no.   But if I’m to start a new life, as I must, then certain things have to be left behind.   A new narrative, written my Katniss Everdeen herself is what’s needed. Not by someone who’s been compelled to bend to the wind most of her life.  The tragic tale of the star-crossed lovers was essentially written by Peeta.  I was merely swept along with it.  The same with the Mockingjay thing.  That was written by the public, and then by Coin and Plutarch.   But it’s time to stop.  From now on, I want to be my own author.  Besides, the fewer people who are aware of my private heartbreak the better.  Sympathy, although well-meaning, just makes it harder.  

“When Peeta came back, I had hopes,” I say carefully.   “He could have gone to any district but he chose 12.  And there wasn’t much here then.  Only the Village.  So, I thought, that maybe, he’d come because of me.  But it wasn’t the same.  Peeta wasn’t the same.  So, I was sad for a long while.  And it was hard, especially when he started going out with Lace.  But eventually I came to realize that you can’t recreate the past, no matter how much you might want to.   I’m glad now that Peeta’s found someone.  He deserves to be happy after everything he’s been through.  And I’m ready to move on with my life too.”    There, a mostly truthful account with a hope filled ending I intend to make true. 

He smiles at me then.  A warm, gentle smile.  “I’m glad to hear it.  Because happiness is what you deserve too.”

[storyteller15]

Selectiontale Side Story: A Valentine To Remember

Hi, guys! Happy Valentine’s day from me and Cinna! Enjoy another side-story about Zefie’s best friend, Bethany! Enjoy!

Valentine’s Day, a holiday where it’s all about celebrating the meaning of love with those we hold dear. A day favored mostly by girls; except for a shrew like me.

When the crack of sunlight hit my eyelids, I forced one eye open and grimaced at my window. The typical sounds of birds chirping, and the waves crashing on the shore in the distance weren’t enough to make me forget that Valentine’s Day is today. I turned my body over under the sheets.

My plan to celebrate the fourteenth was to skip school and sleep in. Instead, I still have to go and endure all this lovey-dovey crap. But everyone knows that Valentine’s Day isn’t a public holiday. So, everyone still has to go to work and school.

Usually, I’d spend this day with my best friend, Zefie, doing nothing but waste time at the Sapphire Sea Café while she worked. Unfortunately, that’s not gonna happen this year. After she was chosen to enter the Selection, I have nobody to waste time with for today’s event.

I know I’m usually laid-back and don’t give a damn on what I gotta do, but today? I can’t take it! It fucking sucks!

Three loud knocks suddenly echoed throughout my room. My body jumped. Oh, no . . .

“Beth, time to get up! You’ll be late for school if you continue to sulk in bed!” Mom‘s voice barked from the other side.

“But what if I wanna sulk in bed?!” I whined as I pulled the sheets over my head.

“That’s what you say every year when Valentine’s Day comes up,” She remarks in a teasing tone. “But you and I both know the answer to that, missy. I want you out of bed in five minutes, all dressed and eating breakfast at the table. Now.”

I raised my head up from my pillow and groaned. “Fiiiiiiine.”

I kicked the sheets off my body, swinging my legs over the bed and stretched. I let out an exasperated groan.

Ugh . . . Five seconds off my bed, and I already hate this day.

I unplugged my iPhone 7 from its charger before the screen flashes on. Checking my phone is always a habit of mine, especially when I always feel anticipated for any texts from Zefie. Five unread messages, all from her and I’m beaming. I waste no time finding my clothes for today, stripping off my pajamas and slipped them on. Like always, I brushed the tangles out of my hair and tied it into a ponytail—presentable enough to not have my mom nagging about my bed hair.

Just as I leave my room, the smell of my mom’s homemade croissant seemed to have boosted my energy of going through this horrifying day. I make my way into the kitchen, taking my seat over at the table where a plate of two steaming hot croissants waited. I waste no time on tackling the first one, stuffing it with Nutella. This hazelnut, chocolatey goodness is heaven to my tongue!

When I saw a bouquet of fresh peonies over the island counter, I held back an eye roll. They were tied and assorted professionally in a pink bow as they bunched up in a crystal vase filled with water. Dad knows better than to get Mom roses, she thinks they’re clichè. At least he remembers that she loves peonies.

“Just on time,” Mom chirped without looking over her shoulder. “I figured you’d come out of your bat cave if I baked my famous homemade croissants. Your scrambled eggs are almost done by the way.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, Mom.”

I took a few gulps of my orange juice before I began to munch down my second crescent-shaped pastry into my mouth. It wasn’t long before Mom came over with my eggs, placing a kiss over my forehead before taking her seat across from me. Over to my left was an empty chair—Dad’s usual spot when he’s not always working too early, and too late.

He mentioned that he had to leave for work early. Dad and the other officers got a lot to do in their hands due to today’s big event. Later in the afternoon, the town square will host a celebration for Valentine’s Day. There will be a cook-off, games, a dance, and fireworks later on tonight that will always be the highlight of any holidays or festivals in Aura Cove. Of course, Mom will join Dad a little later to make up for the rest of the day together; just the two of them.

Mom eyed my t-shirt suddenly and raised a brow. “Really?”

I looked down at it and smirked. A recent birthday present from Bryn—Zefie’s older sister. The shirt was white with red and black fonts. The text itself read: “Love is in the air. Try not to breathe.”

“Hey, at least I’m getting into the spirit of Valentine’s Day. It points out on how much I love this holiday. You’re the one who told me to get up and go to school anyway.”

“Point taken,” She chuckled in defeat. “Oh! That reminds me, how’s Zefie doing in Berdea? I’m sure the King and Queen must’ve planned a big event to celebrate as well.”

“Yup! Zef told me that they’re preparing for tonight’s nightly event. She’s in the middle of baking Valentine themed treats with Queen Toriel for the ball. She mentioned that everyone went nuts over some of the treats she made last Halloween.”

Mom’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Really? Baking with the Queen sounds very exciting. It’s good that her desserts still puts a smile on people’s faces just like she did here. Her personality is full of smiles and joy.”

“Of course, Mom. No one can resist Zefie’s charm. I keep telling her that she’s what the prince is looking for, but she thinks otherwise. Zefie is compassionate, can bake yummy treats, make funny puns, and show hints of leadership when the serious stuff pops up.” I said proudly.

“I agree. Everything about her is what Auradon really needs in a future queen. And I’m not saying that just to favor her out of the remaining twenty left. But one day, we’ll all look back at what Zefie once was before she became Aura Cove’s Selected competitor.”

A pained tug made my breath hitch all of a sudden. All this talk about Zefie just made me realize how hard it’ll be to celebrate without her here—how hard it’ll be to realize that one day, she may never come back if she’s the one. It’s gotten a bit lonely now even if I still have friends to talk to.

I felt Mom's Hand fall over mine and squeezed it. “I know, Beth. I miss her, too.”

I nodded and felt my lips quiver—just a little. I’ve never felt more proud of Zefie’s progress and accomplishments over at the palace of Berdea. She’s slowly becoming less timid, and growing a bit more bold as she keeps seizing each day with determination. The Selected girls should be afraid of her; she’s not someone to take so lightly.

When Mom cleared her throat, I was snapped back to reality. “You know, now that Zefie has finally set her heart towards the Prince, perhaps it’s time that you should look for the love of your life, too. Don’t you think so?”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Since when did this conversation shift from Zefie over to me now?

“No way,” I scoffed. “Sorry to break your hopes, Mom, but I’m not relationship material. It’s never gonna happen. Nein. Naddah.”

She chuckled. “Oh, come oooooooon. Don’t be such a grump! You can’t just tell me that you’re gonna grow up and die single.”

“Can, and will.” I remarked.

She sighed, but not in defeat. “Alright, tell you what. I will let the whole ‘find your other half’ topic drop, if you promise me to just at least give this year's Valentine’s Day a chance to explore your interests in guys, whether it’s a human or monster. I don’t care.”

“Moooooom!”

“I just don’t want you to be lonely! Just promise me you’ll try? Pleeeeaaaassseeee? And you'll never hear a word about being involved with romance. Ever.”

I gave her a skeptic look at first, her smile not dying down until I groaned and gave a soft nod. At least she’ll drop the subject if I just go with it. Finally. My mom just likes the idea of me being in love with someone as she does with my dad, and I don’t blame her. But deep down, there are some people like me that can live without a partner. Sometimes being assertive doesn’t always go through that head of hers.

That at least made her grin ear-to-ear until she looked at the clock and gasped. When I looked, too, I gaped. Shoot! I’ve got ten minutes to spend my free time before school starts!

“Time for school, Beth. Drive safe, I love you,”

“Alright, alright. Love ya, too.” I rose up from my chair, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

I walked past Mom and kissed her cheek, waving her goodbye before I marched out the front door, fishing out my car keys and climbed into Whitey—a nickname I picked for my dad’s pickup truck, but now it’s mine. I buckled my seatbelt before I looked at the head view mirror. Staring right back at me is my cyan-green eyes—they look exasperated and tired. I took a deep breath in, then exhaled.

Right, I can do this. Once the keys went to the ignition, the truck sputtered to life before I backed out of the driveway and took off.

The drive to school was quite repulsive. Red and pink colored banners decorated the streets, ribbons were twisted and tied around from one light post to the other. Heart-shaped balloons were being tied onto several booths and storefronts as I drove by. Customers rushed in and out of the Bakery with desserts packed in boxes. The local flower shop was even packed, the employees hurrying to arrange and prepare bouquet of flowers—most of the customers were guys that probably forgot to get their lovers something. I shook my head at the madness. Can this get any worse?

Turning into the school’s parking lot, I waste no time finding a parking spot, turning the engine off and climbed out of Whitey. I sling my backpack over my shoulder again, speed-walking across the parking lot. Suddenly, I hear a chime ring from my pocket. I quickly fish it out to find another text from Zefie.

*Just finished helping Queen Toriel with the goodies, on my way to my room to be dressed in a gown. Should I wear red, or pink?

I chortled and began to twiddle my thumbs swiftly. Pink is too innocent for her, she needs red to look seductive and make Prince Asriel swooned for her. Earlier, I was told that all the girls were eager for his attention, since today is all about expressing one’s feelings towards the person you love. So, I told her to act how she and I usually feel before—act casual about it and brush it off like today means nothing. And in her case, she needs to play hard to get.

Just as I was about to press send, my body slams into something to hard and rigid enough to make me stumble back and fall. I let out a loud, pained groan. Shit.

“Whoa there, dudette, you ok?”

I felt a rather big hand tug me up by the arm gently to help me up. “Yeah, bro, I’m all good. Sorry about bumping into to ya—“

The moment I laid my hand over the person’s arm, I stopped talking. My lungs began to ache as if I lost the ability to breathe. Towering over me was a dragon monster—a familiar one I once met back when I was a little brat. All the memories of him began to flood in my mind as if they were the long lost pieces of a jigsaw puzzle left unsolved.

He smiled a toothy grin and crossed his arms over his buff chest. “Pfft, you better be sorry. It was pretty much your fault for bumping into me. Don’t you know that it’s dangerous to be texting and walking in the school parking lot, Winchester?”

“Haha . . .  Heeeeeeyyy, Everflare.” I managed a smile.

Drayce Everflare, a dragon monster who is a fucking cunt; but has the heart of gold that he shows to those who are close to him.

Zefie and I first met him back when we were still living in Elridge as kids. I remember it as if we’re just yesterday. We were the first to befriend him a few months after the barrier was destroyed. It was very hard for Drayce to settle back then. The humans were still getting used to the idea of monsters roaming among the surface. So, the two of us helped him open up more until he eventually gained more friends.

Unfortunately, Zefie and I had to say goodbye to our friends, even Drayce, because we were moving to Aura Cove. To be honest, I thought that this was the last time we’d ever see him until three years ago—a party at an old classmate’s house just down the street from my aunt’s. I invited Zefie to come with me to visit my mom’s side of the family back in Elridge.

When my attention wavered back to Drayce, he no longer stood five feet tall. In fact, he had a huge growth spurt, now towering over me—I was around five-foot while he was now six-foot and twelve inches tall. His scales were black as night, but they give off a hint of a sapphire color underneath the sun’s rays. Drayce’s pupils glowed in a smokey-ashed ember color, a black slit stayed in the center of his pupils—similar to a snake’s and cat’s eyes. And as always, his mane, shimmered in a silvery-color just like the moon.

“It’s good to see ya, Bethany.”

“You too, Drayce. So, you’re attending Aura Cove High now?”

“Yup, it’s my first day. My family has had enough of the cold climate of Elridge, so we decided to move south. And you know our kind never do well in cold weather even though Elridge never has snow.” He says as we walked inside the school building.

Apparently, he and his family moved to Aura Cove a few days ago—enough time for them to move in and settle. And now that Drayce is attending Aura Cove High, I decided to point out directions without using the map he was given by the office. I know the school grounds like the back of my hand.

As we walked around, nearly half of the girls were already swooned by his appearance. Can’t blame them really, especially when there’s a new student who’s tall, buff, and eye-catching—more like eye-candy. However, he seems to be unfazed about the girls drooling over him. What a surprise. Once Drayce understood where to go, we had to get to our classes when we hear the bell ring. We briefly say our goodbyes before I turn the opposite direction for my least favorite class: History.

“Good morning, Bethany! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Suzy beams and hands me a mini bag filled with all assorted candies.

I grumbled, but took the goodies anyway. “Hey, Suzy. And yeeeaaaah, you, too. What’s up?”

Suzy Marsh is an optimistic lamb monster, and one of the members of the Student Council. She’s known as the social butterfly, getting along with every student in our school. It’s without a doubt that Suzy is an extrovert.

“Quite crazy to be honest,” She gestures the hallway as students hurried to get to class. “The school will be hectic today, because of Valentine’s Day as you can tell. So, it’s going to be quite an exhausting day for all of us.”

Suzy was right, the whole school was already getting into the Valentine’s Day action. The girls receiving flowers, a heart-shaped box filled with all the junk chocolates, and love notes from their partners. And as for the single ones? Possibly trying to muster up the courage to confess to their crushes—if they decide to. When Suzy and I turned to our first class, we caught a quick glimpse on our school’s most popular, but ignorant girl.

Felicity is always the one who gets the most gifts. Dozens of roses laid in the crook of her arm as she opens her locker to find lots of love notes. I grimaced when she pretended to look surprised before shoving an expensive chocolate box inside and heads to class. Suzy and I shook our heads. What a boastful brat.

Once we find our assigned desks for History, I leaned back against my seat. I’m not surprised that the teacher was going over a mushy myth about how red roses came to be, because it was Valentine related. According to Greek mythology, it was told that Venus—or Aphrodite, if any of the students wanna argue about the goddess of love’s true name—fell in love with a mortal hunter named Adonis. And Mars, who also loved Venus, grew jealous of her love for a low mortal like him. He sent out a boar that ended up injuring Adonis during the hunt, but later died by the time Venus came to aid him. The blood he shed mixed with Venus’ tears is what gave birth to the blood-red rose.

All of the girls sighed in awe while I groaned. I get it now. No wonder red roses are the most desired in Valentine’s Day.

Suzy suddenly leaned over and whispered. “I just got a text from the Pres, it looks like I won’t be able to join you on fifth period. Markus bailed on his promise to volunteer on delivering the candy grams. So, I’ll have to take his place and do it. Wanna join? We could always use another hand.”

Oh, god. Not that . . .

Our school prides themselves into having candy grams—a spiffy, but stupid nickname for love notes taped with store-bought candy—delivered by cherubs every year on Valentine’s Day. It’s where the students have the opportunity to go and write a “love note” to the recipient, but the notes can be friendly, too. All they have to do is go to the sign-up table—ran by a few of the student council members—to fill up an order slip for the candy grams. The sender can choose to write their names, or remain anonymous.

After that, the cherubs—students that volunteer to be messengers—go and deliver the notes. Here’s the catch: they have to dress up and wear wings as they frolick throughout the hallway, while carrying the notes in a red sack. But for monsters who already have wings can skip wearing one, spared from humiliating themselves any further.

“No thanks, I’m too lazy to do it even if it means avoiding class. Try ask Angela. I think she said something about not wanting to do class work. And she’d be the perfect person to do an easy job.”

“Alright, I’ll ask her next period. By the way, I noticed that you were talking with the new student who transferred from Elridge. Do you two know each other?”

“Oh, you mean Drayce? Yeah, we were just classmates back in grade school. He’s an old friend to me and Zefie.”

Suzy blinked. “Aw, that’s it? Just friends? But you two looked quite compatible for each other. Nearly half the girls of the school are so drawn to him almost as much as Prince Asriel himself.”

“Haha, nah. I hate to break it to ya, but we’re just friends, Suzy. Good friends till the end of time. So, he’s all theirs for the admiring. Though I have a feeling that he’s still in a relationship.”

For some reason, I felt a painful tug in my chest enough to make it hard to breathe. Why did it hurt just now? I shook my head. Nah, maybe I’m just feeling drained about today.

“Aww, phooey . . .  And here I thought that Eros, the god of love, has struck the two of you with his gold-tipped arrows altogether in one pull. It’s a shame he’s taken.”

I chuckled. To the girls, it is a shame.

This charade of students playing as the cherubs delivering notes went on for the last seven hours. And in each class, about three-to-five people gets a note or two that comes with a heart-shaped lollipop. Sometimes they even get gifts that comes with a card, just to add the surprise to the recipient. Like always, I don’t get any notes or presents—just the way I like it. That is, until my name was announced last during class all of a sudden.

“Bethany Winchester?” A student calls.

All I heard was collective gasps and whispers. My head shot up from my from my written essay. Shit.

“Uh, yeah . . ?” I think my stomach is doing summer salts.

A big white parcel was wrapped in both gold and purple silk ribbons as it sat in the crook of her arm. Heart-shaped balloons were tied around a stuffed, chubby Poro plush from League of Legends, its tongue holding a heart card that reads out “I WUV U!” My eyes narrowed. Whoever the sender was that sent me that shitty trash is gonna get it—

“And, it looks like the sender wrote their name! It’s from . . .“ She pulls the card from the parcel and gasped. “Oh my god! Your sender is Zafrina Alban! Mailed from the palace of Berdea!”

My jaw dropped in an instant. The classroom was now buzzing with loud, surprised clamorings. I quickly got up to take my presents, before walking back to my seat and stared at them.

The envelope itself was beige, the Delta Rune crest stamped over a wax gold seal. And just like the letter that had my application for the Selection—that I quickly denied filling—it smelled just like butterscotch and cinnamon. I chuckled. Seriously, Zef?

Scratch that, the sender won’t get it. And the surprise presents were no longer shitty. I should’ve known that it was from Zefie since she’s the only one who knows I play the game, and my love for the Poros.

The girls that sat near me pouted when I decided not to open Zefie’s gift, yet. I swear, ever since she left, everyone in school thinks of her as a celebrity—except for Felicity, still being a sour puss for not getting picked. And that honestly had me smirking.

Once class was done, it was lunchtime. I made my way inside the Cafeteria, getting in line and grabbed a tray filled with today’s lunch menu. After paying, I head over to the usual table where Zefie and I always sat together. Now? It was now occupied by Suzy, Angela, and Taryn. I honestly didn’t mind their company, it’s somewhat nice to have other people to talk to.

As I was eating, I hear them talk about how many candy grams they received. That is until they asked me about what I was to Drayce. Like I said to Suzy, I only see him as a friend. And then, Taryn spotted my candy gram from Zefie before Suzy and Angela begged for me to open it.  

I gave in eventually and opened it, hearing them gasp behind me. Inside was a clear box of different flavored macarons, a pair of brand new black Adidas shoes, three comfy looking t-shirts, some denim jeans, and twenty packs of Spider Bakery’s Butterscotch Pillows—my all-time favorite chewable candy to eat that only exists in Berdea. It’s actually just homemade marshmallows dipped into caramel-butterscotch with a creamy texture. The baker, Muffet, is the sweet genius monster who created this delicious treat inspired by Queen Toriel’s famous pie. I can only grin. Zefie always nailed the present giving.

However, the thought of having only one candy gram broke the moment I hear a classmate of mine announce my name. Cursing under my breath, I waved Jeremy over to hand me my candy gram. It was sent anonymously, and I honestly didn’t care who it came from.

After seeing Jeremy off, I turned my head to glare at them when their snickers became uncontrollable laughters. I gave up and threw the card inside my parcel. I didn’t bother looking in the card on what the person wrote. I just wanted this day to be over.

I swear to the Goddess, I. Hate. Valentine’s Day.

Hours later, school was finally over. I painfully climbed into Whitey, placing my Valentine’s Day presents and backpack on the passenger seat, buckled my seatbelt and put the keys into the ignition before I took off. Gym was a pain-in-the-ass. I hate it almost as much as I hated Valentine’s Day, and I knew it hated me back so much.

So, it decided to show me some love by having our gym teacher make us run a two-mile-lap. Eight stupid laps! Running is evil! It was bad enough that the girls wouldn’t move their asses faster, because they were too busy going googly-eyed over Drayce! Apparently, he and I have that class together, but it ain’t too bad since we can now talk to each other and catch up.

To my surprise, Drayce offered me to stop by his party he was holding tonight. It was suspicious at first since today’s Valentine’s Day. However, Drayce promised that it’s nothing lovey dovey themed, and he wants me to come really badly. So, I told him maybe, if he promises that there will be food. Any nachos being served at a party, it’s a yes from me.

My body winced a bit, causing me to breathe in sharply. Ugh. Like I said: running is evil. Now that my body is all sore from the running, an idea hit me. When I turned my key to start Whitey, I hit the gas pedal and took off.

It was a short drive there, turning right after the stop sign and followed a road up a big hill that overlooked the east side of the town and ocean, now parking in front of Zefie’s house. Today I’m paying a small visit to Ms. Cordelia and Bryn—they offered me to join them for early supper that I gladly accepted. Stopping by to see them is my way of reassuring Zefie that they’re both okay, and keeping them company from her absence.

They’re like second family to me, especially when they always welcome anyone with open arms—except for Bryn if she finds out someone hurts Zefie. Like the usual, I spent my time talking to them while eating a bowl clam chowder with Ms. Cordelia’s famous blackberry cheesecake macarons. There are times where we all stare at the empty chair where Zefie once sat. But one day, we all believe that we’ll see her again soon.

By the time I finished helping Bryn cleaning the dishes, I bid them farewell before heading out the door. As I was climbing inside my truck, I realize it was five o’clock. Damn, time went by so fast! I said to myself. Huh, come to think of it, Drayce did say his party is at six, and I have an hour to think about it.

Hmm . . . Drive to the party, or go home? Decisions, decisions. Oh! That reminds me.

I quickly fished out my iPhone, sliding and pressing a few buttons over the screen. Within three beeps, a familiar face pops up and beams back at me along with loud music playing in the background.

“Bethany! You called just in time!”

“Did I? It looks like the ball is going great for ya. You sure it’s a good time?”

Zefie waved her hand. “No, no! I promise, it’s perfect! The ball is nearly over, and I’m just standing by the buffet table like always. All that dancing with Asriel got me so tired, that I decided to trudge on over and grab some bites.”

“True, food is a must-need fuel. And look at you, all glitzed up and stuff! Red really does look good on ya.” I commented.

Zefie’s hair was fashioned in a romantic-styled bun, fastened with ruby-red rose pins. Her eyelids were colored in a gradient style from gold, peach, and then red—staying natural without overdoing her face. As promised, Zefie was wearing a sweetheart-neckline gown that matched the color of ruby, dusted with iridescent glitter. The only thing that didn’t quite match with her look, was her seashell-shaped Aurora crystal pendant. Regardless, she still looked beautiful, extravagant, but seductive tonight.

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, but red is too seductive. I can barely stand having that color on me.”

“But you still decided to wear it anyway. You know far too well that my advice is always right, and hard to deny.” I remarked. Her irritation grew, but giggled.

“Okay, yes, I did decide to take your suggestion to wear red for a change. I have to admit, it did catch Asriel’s attention. I even took your other suggestion and pretended to be unfazed about it.” She admitted.

I threw my head back and burst into laughter. “That’s my Zef! By the way, thanks for the Valentine’s Day presents. You really shouldn’t have.” My tone of voice changed, making Zefie giggle mischievously.

“Oh it was nothing,” She says. “I just wanted to show you, my best friend, how much I love you and appreciate the full support as I compete in the Selection. Were you surprised? Or did you plan on threatening to throw the presents away if they hadn’t announced my name?”

Damn, she knows me so well.

“Both.” I admitted as she giggled.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t even though it would’ve been funny to see who else sent you those candy grams.”

I suddenly made that exasperated look before she gasped.

“No way, did they really?!”

“Yeeesssss . . .” I whined, slamming my head over the wheel.

“Oh my god . . ! Did they write their name? Or, was it anonymous?”

“Anon.”

I placed my phone over the holder attached to my dashboard, before I took off away from Zefie’s house. As I was driving, I listen to what she was saying about how crazy her day was over at the palace. The ball was extravagant, but a wee bit crazy since the candidates wanted to dance with Prince Asriel. I grew irritated when she told me that he danced with her last at first. But I think it was a good thing? Zefie said something about the Prince telling her that he saves the best for last.

I honestly don’t understand romantically-clichè stuff. But it did make me smile when Prince Asriel gave Zefie a simple gift: a rose dipped into rose-gold to keep the flower’s form sealed forever. It was how she liked it honestly. No large diamond, or wealthy gifts can satisfy Zefie.

As I was driving back to my house, I stepped on the brakes to stop in front of the traffic light and cursed. I swear, this one takes forever with her demonic flower friend, Flowey. I don’t know how the hell she managed to befriend that little prick, but at least he kept her company. So, I guess it was okay to me. In my peripheral vision, I spotted the moon. That was when I remembered something and looked at my phone.

“Zefie?”

“Yeah?”

I gnawed on my lower lip. “Do you by chance remember a . . . Certain black-scaled dragon with a silvery-lilac mane?”

“Bethany, are you talking about Drayce Everflare? Our Drayce who we met back in the outer province of Elridge?” She cocked a brow.

“Yeah,” I sighed as I leaned my head against the steering wheel. “That’s him.”

“Then, of course I remember him. How could I forget someone like Drayce? He’s literally the first monster we’ve ever befriended. Why bring him up?”

I exhaled softly before looking up. “Well, you see . . . I kinda ran into him this morning when I got to school, literally. Today was his first day to attend Aura Cove High. He and his family moved here two days ago, so.”

“No way! I can’t believe it! So, what happened? Did he say, or do anything peculiar between you two?” Her eyes widened with astonishment.

“Peculiar?” Flowey intervenes into view. “Ooh, I like where this is going, keep talking. I do love a good, juicy gossip.”

I grimaced at Flowey. “No, nothing at all. Except, Drayce invited me to come to his ‘welcoming’ party. Everyone’s invited, and some Elridger friends coming, too.”

“But?”

“But . . . For some reason, part of me says ‘go, because he’s got food,’ while my brain says ‘fuck it, let’s go home and call it a day.’ Now you see what the problem is?”

Suddenly, Zefie’s expression became frantic with worry. She opens her mouth, but no words came out and closes it. It looked like she wanted to tell me something I don’t know, but doesn’t know how to. For once, that actually scared me. Before she could say anything, the light turned green in my peripheral vision and I had to move. I didn’t wanna risk any of the cops giving me a ticket for breaking a few traffic laws, nor do I have the gold to pay the fine.

Feeling frustrated, I decided to park into a stall in front of the mall. All this talk about Drayce was driving me crazy, that it’s considered unordinary.

“Sorry,” I said before I turned my truck off to save gas. “It looks like you’ve got something in you mind. What’s eating ya up?”

In her point of view, I saw that Zefie was scurrying away out of the ballroom as fast as she could to avert the now loud music blaring out anything she could’ve said. Of course, she ended up bringing her demon-flower friend with her, making a few turns in different corridors until she stopped inside the king’s botanic garden.

She lets out a loud exhale and sat over the grass. “Sorry, had to move somewhere else, too. The music got too loud. Anyway, what I was trying to say earlier, is why don’t you go? I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to stop by.”

“Seriously? You want me to go?” I asked in disbelief. The troubled look on her face is already giving me signs that she definitely knows something I don’t.

“Yeah. You and I both know that Drayce makes any party very entertaining. Do you remember the party we went to when we ‘snuck out?’ I didn’t wanna do it, but you insisted we should to see familiar faces.”

A wicked smile appeared over my face. “Of course, can’t forget about Jasmine’s party. Someone drank a lot of spiked punch, that they tried to skydive from Jas’ roof. The poor monster guy lost a tooth, but it was so hilarious!”

“See? Now you know the party won’t be anything you expect it to be. If it is, just do some small talk and go. Afterall, Drayce didn’t suggest you to come for nothing.” She says.

“Point taken,” I chuckled in defeat. “Alright, I’ll go. But, will you wait for my next call if anything happens? I hate to drive back home alone with no one to talk to.”

Zefie lets out a chuckle. “I’ll never abandon my best friend. I’m one phone call away.”

“Why bother enjoying the party, when you can spoil the mood by eating all the food?” Flowey says with a nasty smirk.

I looked at Zefie in the eye. “How the hell did you befriend this psycho again?”

“How the heck did this potty-mouthed idiot become your best friend?” He shot back.

“Why you cheeky, little—!”

“Alright, alright, enough already,” Zefie cuts us off. “Bethany, go have fun, I’ll be right here if you need me. I have a feeling that Asriel is gonna try to look for me. Don’t forget to try to have fun!”

In three beeps, her face disappears, leaving me by myself again. I sighed softly. Okay, go to Drayce’s party, talk a little, and try to have fun. Yeah, easy for you to say, Zef.

I punched in Drayce’s home address on my map and let Siri do the talking. It wasn’t long before I arrived, seeing that his huge house—almost as big as Felicity’s—was crowded just as he said it would. Right, the plan is simple: go inside, talk, have fun, leave. I repeated the mantra in my mind over and over, as I climbed out and locked my truck.

Nearly half the students from school are there, some greeting me as I make my way inside the house. Music was blaring through the speakers, monsters and humans socializing near the living room, and some dancing by the porch. In the corner of my eye, I spotted Felicity flirting with an unfamiliar monster. However, the only person who I didn’t spot was our party host.

I shrugged softly and walked towards the long table filled with appetizing food. Oh well, I could care less for now. The only thing that caught my attention, was the spicy cheese sauce waiting for my nacho chips to dive in and burn my tongue. I grabbed a plate, taking a handful of nacho chips and a hotdog. And then, I stared down at the cheese dip.

My tongue snakes out from my lips as I rubbed my hands together deviously. “Come to Mama. I deserve you, dammit.”

“Well, hello there, blazing blondie. I see you haven’t changed a bit.”

My eyes widened. Wait a second, I know that voice.

I whipped my head in an instant and gasped. “Cassie?! Is that you?!”

“The one and only. Come here, you!” In an flash, I was pulled into a rather tight bear hug, feeling her scaly arms rub against my cheek.

Drayce has two sisters, and Cassie is one of them—only three years younger than him. Like her brother, her height still towered over me due to being a dragon herself. Cassie’s scales glowed in an iridescent color like an opal, her eyes sparkled like Pyrites.

And as for the second one, her name is Moon. Sweetest little human toddler, hyper like a wildfire. She does have a dragon form, but she’s still learning how to transform on her own due to her young age. Moon is considered a hybrid since their dad and stepmom are different species. They named her Moon, because her silvery-white hair is the same color as the moon.

“It’s been far too long,” She releases me. “And here I thought it’d be the last time Dee and I would ever see you again. Poor little Moon kept asking us if you’d come to the party.”

I chuckled. “Hey, you could’ve spotted me at school. Where were you?”

“Ah, about that, I actually got to school late. I was admiring the bracelets that has the famous Aurora crystal on it.” She blushed, holding up a white wool-braided bracelet with the crystal carved into a butterfly.

“I can see why. Regardless, welcome to Aura Cove: where the land meets the sea and the sun kisses your skin.” I lifted my plastic cup as cheers. Cassie grabbed a cup of her own from the table, and clinked it against mine as thanks before the two of us gulped our sodas down.

“Nice motto you guys got there, now I know my family and I are going to like it here already.”

“Oh, you guys definitely will. Which reminds me, where’s your folks at?”

“Ah, they left ten minutes ago to a dinner date at some fancy restaurant. You know how my dad is, wanting to ignite the love he has for my loving stepmom,” A soft smile grew on her face. “After that, they left me and Dee in charge, so it’s only us to keep an eye on the house—and yes, little Moon, too.”

My eyes widened. “If that’s the case, where is Moon?”

“Upstairs in her room, Drayce is up there still putting her to bed. And if you think the loud music will wake a six year-old, guess again.”

Cassie beckoned me to follow her to the backyard, where most of the guests lounged near the pool. Most of the lawn chairs were occupied by some familiar faces I once knew back then. When we reached the end of the poolside, Cassie dipped her legs in while I sat next to her with my legs crossed.

After that, Cassie and I spent who knows how many minutes on catching up, laughing about stories we experienced last time we spoke. Things like hilarious memories of us playing ding-dong-ditch as kids, sneaking into farmer John’s cow pasture, and the time where young Drayce drinking my cup by mistake. And to my surprise, I actually remembered that I drank over the same spot where his lips touched—Zefie and Cassie used to assume that it was like an indirect kiss, but I found that information bullshit.

I grumbled as Cassie wheezed. “Oh my god, I still can’t believe he drank it! I even teased him about getting cooties!”

“Hey, I’m not the cooties carrier! So what if I drank over where Drayce drank? It’s my cup. It’s his own fault for not knowing. And besides, we were just children.” I retorted.

“Oho, and that one time you guys played Seven Minutes in Heaven. Zefie refused to kiss any strangers, but you got balls of steel for joining the game and got my brother on first—”

“Seven Minutes?” I raised a brow. “I don’t even remember playing that with Drayce and our friends. Was it at the party?”

Cassie stared back at me in shock. “Seriously? You really don’t remember? That was the highlight of your night! I thought that Zefie—oh. Oh, uh. No, never mind. Sorry about my rambling. Forget what I said.” She waves her clawed hand to disregard it. I gawked at her.

Okay, now I know something’s up. First Zefie, and now Cassie? Geez, what the actual fuck? I sighed. I decided to forget it and thought of a new topic.

“You know, I’m really glad that your dad finally found someone special seven years ago. I remembered how sad he was until he met Lindy.”

“Yeaaaah. And she turned out to be the best mother figure to Me, Dee, and little Moon,” She leans back to look up. “But it’s a shame that we weren’t able to see Zefie sooner, before she left for the Selection. I’m still in surprised that she was chosen; a good surprise that we all can’t get over. You remember how she has always admired Prince Asriel?”

A knowing smile appeared over my face. “And she always will. All she did was take a look at the TV screen, and bam! Her life was changed forever.”

“Well, I hate to tell my friends from Elridge, but I’m rooting for Zefie. She’s got my vote since day one of meeting you and her.”

“You better,” I teased before we began to laugh.

“Ugh, can you believe that girl?” A familiar voice grumbled.

My chest tightened before Cassie and I turned our heads towards the glass table. The group that occupied the spot was none other than Drayce’s longtime friends, including the human chick with long raven hair standing next to them. I bit on the inside of my cheek, not understanding why I’m suddenly feeling nauseous. The girl had brown eyes, heart shaped lips, perfectly-average bust size,and a body in a shape of an hourglass that would make any guy go nuts for. However, that resting bitch face that dresses over all the physical beauty is Natalia Grace—Drayce’s girlfriend he’s been in a relationship with for three years straight.

“I mean, I am still shocked that the Prince still kept some of those posers in the competition, especially that one girl. Has he not yet realized what an arrogant, snob Zafrina is? Honestly, she’s such a selfish girl, pretending to be so kind and promises to support the rest of the candidates if she doesn’t get picked.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes annoyingly.

I tightened my fingers around my plastic cup, feeling Cassie’s hand restraining my arm. My blood was boiling so much just from hearing Natalia talk shit about Zefie. She has no right to say something that’s not true at all!

A monster Lizard groaned. “Calm down, will you? What do you have against Zafrina anyway? She’s cool and funny. You already know what she is to Drayce.”

“I am only speaking the truth, Owen,” She grits her teeth. “That girl is nothing but a phony. I don’t give two shits if her foster mom is best friends with the King and Queen, that just weighs another bad reputation among herself.”

“Oh, yeah? And where’s your proof on Zefie being fake? Lady Cordelia has the high title of being the King and Queen’s longest, loyal friend among their court anyway. Regardless, you can’t blame Zefie if she was adopted and raised by Lady Cordelia. There’s a lot we don’t know about on their situation. And we have no right to judge her this badly.” Another guy objected, earning an icy glare from Natalia before she continued.

“Zafrina’s involvement with the Selection will always be looked at as bad. Think about it: she could be befriending the royal family on purpose, just to stay in the competition. And how could the King and Queen say no to someone who’s the adopted spouse of Lady Cordelia? What a fraud that human mage is presenting herself; so shady and disgusting to be raised as to be taking advantage on the royal family’s kindness. If I were the Prince, I would’ve booted her conceited face out of the competition and focus on the beautiful, elegant, headstrong ones like Malachite. Unlike Zafrina, she’s got class, experience with dating, and understands how to talk in public. She’s got everything a potential Queen needs to lead Auradon. It honestly puts fake, scaredy-cats like Zafrina to shame. Of course, we all couldn’t forget about the chaotic mess she made at the children’s school in Berdea. Ugh, poor Malachite, having her thunder stolen.”

“That rumour died weeks ago,” Owen argued. “It was a big misunderstanding.”

She huffed. “That’s what the media wants us to think. But one thing is true: Zafrina is fake.”

The guys shift uncomfortably in their seats, feeling speechless about it as Natalia began to let out a haughty laugh. I wrench my arm away from Cassie and stood up in an instant, making my way towards them. Malachite? An idol of elegance? More like the total opposite. Last time I remembered, Zefie mentioned that Malachite thought she put herself in danger with the demons on purpose. She low-key bullies the other competitors if they get too close to Prince Asriel. And yet, Natalia thinks she’s got what it takes to be the Queen? Yeah, as if! As for that dumb rumour, that was all on Malachite. That bitch made her fans bully Zefie while playing victim. That is not how a Queen should act!

The moment I arrived, Owen clears his throat and waved.

“Ayyyyyye, Winchester! Good to see ya! It’s been awhile!” The guys join in, too, saying their hellos before Natalia whipped her attention towards me.

“What up, nerds? Did I miss anything important at all from this conversation? I couldn’t help but overhear about Prince Asriel’s Selection. Do tell,” I forced a smile, my fingers gripping the cup more.

Owen swallowed hard, but Natalia gladly speaks. “Bethany Winchester, so good to see you! How’s your parents?”

“Both at the town square. Care to help me catch up on the topic you guys were talking about?” I pressed again, my smile not faltering.

“Oh! Silly me, so sorry about that. We were just talking about the girls that are still in the Selection. The ones that don’t deserve to stay, because of their fraud personality.”

“Really? I think some of them deserve a chance from us to get to know them—whether they’re being fake or not. That’s the Prince’s job to find out anyway. The media can only say much, but there are people like me that know a lot more about the candidates personally. Like Zefie for example.”

She gasps surprisingly; a fake one I can see through so well. “O. M. G. I totally forgot you’re very close with Zafrina! Oh, you poor thing, having to coach her on how to talk to the Prince himself! It was a silly mistake of Mettaton to pull her name, instead of someone else from Aura Cove.”

The boys behind her began to shrink back with fear, as my fingers began to break the plastic more as she rambled on. Mistake? How the fuck does pulling her name randomly become a mistake?

“You still have her number, right? Maybe you could help her out by talking her out of the Selection. I’d hate to be in Zafrina’s shoes right now and make an embarrassment out of the royal family and myself. And besides, I don’t think she’d do well in bed with him. She is asexual, right? Her anxiety is such a big turnoff just like the time we played Seven Minutes in Heaven at Jas—“

I splashed my soda at her face as she gasped, hearing loud gasps from the guys enough to make the entire party stop. When Natalia cried out, I chuck my cup at her after. My fingers curled into tight fists at each sides of my body. I’ve never felt this angry than the time Felicity tried to bully Zefie for competing. But now? This one takes the cake; big time.

“You listen here, bitch,” I walk up to Natalia, staring down at her shocked expression. “You can talk shit about anyone you like that really needs it, but nobody, not even you, are allowed to babble things about Zefie that are not true. I don’t care if she’s timid. I don’t care if she’s the adopted child of Runa Cordelia. I don’t care if some people think her kindness is looked as arrogance. But I certainly care if people like you throw dirt at her appearance! You and I both know the real truth about Zefie, and I am so disappointed that you’re deciding to trash it.”

Behind me, I felt Cassie stand behind me while the crowd whispers, hearing soft clamorings before I spoke again.

“You complain that she’s timid and quiet, but she at least has one thing that will make everyone see her differently. And that’s courage. So, if I were you, Natalia, I would actually shut the fuck up and keep my mouth shut, before I make a fool out of myself.” I square my shoulders and stood straighter. “And don’t worry about me sticking around, I was just leaving anyway. It really is good to see that you haven’t changed one bit. Enjoy the party.”

Just as I turned my heel to walk away, Cassie gasps. “Bethany, look out!”

I whipped my head back behind me far too late. Natalia angrily lunged at me to knock me back against the pool, but I quickly grabbed her arms and pulled her down with me. The water crashes against our bodies, hearing nothing but loud splashing until my head broke through the surface and gasped for air, suddenly feeling something grab my hair. I growled and began splashing at Natalia nonstop.

“Let go!” I snarled, splashing right at her face. Above us, I hear the crowd cheering at our fight until a loud roar stops us.

Before I could look up, a clawed hand outstretched towards me to take it. I swallowed and grabbed it before I was reeled out of the pool. A bystander also helped pull Natalia out, seeing Drayce stare back at me with worry. Oh.

“Bethany, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Drayce, no worries—“

“Baaaaaaabe!” Natalia cries out. “Just look at what Bethany did to me! I’m all soaked, and my makeup is ruined! All we did was share a conversation, and she got mad at me for saying something and pushed me into the pool! I only grabbed her just so she’d get wet, too!”

My jaw dropped before I grimaced at her. Why that lying, piece of shit—!

“I want you to apologize to her, right now!” He growled, his voice suddenly spine-chilling. What . . ?

I sighed disappointingly. I should have known, a downright shame of me thinking he’d pick his best friend over his girlfriend. I can’t blame him on that, no matter how much fault she was involved in. I bit on the inside of my cheek and stared back at the haughty face, sneer Natalia was making before I breathed.

“I’m very sorry for pulling you in with me, after you pushed me in for busting you on talking shit about Zefie,” A loud, collective ooh’s sounded throughout the backyard as I held my head up proudly. I suddenly felt Cassie standing behind me, draping a dry towel around my body.

Natalia scoffed and shook her head. “Can you believe her, Babe? Her apology is nothing but lies!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Winchester,” He says before he turned to glare at the now surprised Natalia. “Now, I‘m waiting. Do not make me repeat it.”

“Excuse me?” She scoffs. “Why should I apologize to her when she started this?! Bethany was being butt-hurt over something I said and threw her soda, and cup at my face! It’s not my fault if she can’t handle the truth about—“

“The truth about who?” He snarls to a point where everyone stopped breathing. His claws begin to flex, watching Natalia’s face grow pale with fear as he kept a hard expression on his face.

I placed a hand over Drayce’s tensed arm before he turned to look at me. “Stop, it’s okay. She’s right, it’s my fault.”

“What? No, it’s not—“

“It’s fine, really. I’m sincerely sorry that I ruined your welcoming the party. So, I should leave.”

I quickly said my goodbyes to Cassie, walking away before Drayce could stop me. My teeth gnaws the inside of my cheek so hard, I can taste iron. I ignored everyone I move past, not hearing their cheers for fighting with Natalia.

When I walked past Felicity, she chuckled. “Nicely done on insulting the mouthy-whore. Quite a mistake of her to be running her anger towards Zaf—”

“Fuck off, I don’t need praises from a hypocrite.” I hissed without looking back. Though, it was surprising to hear that from someone like her.

My body began to shiver since my hair and clothes were still dripping wet. What’s worse? My favorite shirt was all drenched! And my phone must be dead, too! I snarled. I stand corrected with what I said before: I hate Valentine’s day. I want to go home and end this turd of a day.

I climbed inside Whitey, slamming my door shut and gripped the steering wheel tightly. In an instant, I let out a loud, distressed scream before I slammed my fist against my dashboard and leaned against the wheel. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Just then, I hear Zefie’s ringtone buzzing on my dashboard.

I gasped. Holy shit, I forgot that my phone was here inside my truck! I exhaled loudly. And here I was thinking that Natalia drowned my phone! Thank god. I answer quickly, seeing that Zefie is in her pajamas instead of her dress, hair down and brushed.

“Hey, Bethany! I know it’s super late of me staying up, but I wanted to—huh? Hey, what happened to you?! Why are you all wet?!”

“A lot,”

I sighed before I start my truck and drive off to who knows where. Along the way, I explained the whole story as short as possible, including the encounter with Drayce’s mouthy-girlfriend. When I turned to a familiar dirt road, I follow it and drive all the way to the top of the highest hill that overlooked all of Aura Cove. I cut the engine off and changed out of my damp clothes, before grabbing the new ones Zefie sent me. I was disappointed that my hair smelled and was a mess. So, I free my hair to dry as I started walking towards the wooden split rail fence, with my phone in hand before climbing over and sat on it.

Beyond the distance, I can hear faint music blasting from the town square, the flickering lights glowing white, pink, and red. The sounds of the waves crashing against the shores echoed into my ears enough to give me chicken skin. Zefie and I remained quiet, just listening to the sounds Aura Cove made like we used to. It gives us comfort, knowing this is what home is. Both of us are still surprised that no one discovered this place—except us, which is why it was considered our secret place to go.

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” Zefie says suddenly. “At Drayce’s I mean. I should’ve told you not to go if I knew this would happen. It’s all my fault.”

“That’s not true, Zef. Don’t blame it on yourself. It’s my fault, really. No one knew this was gonna happen; but I did. I already knew it the moment Natalia talked about you and whoever else that is completely innocent.”

She sighed. “I didn’t even know she thinks of me as arrogant. She was a nice girl last time I spoke to her three years ago.”

“Yeah, me too—“ My head perked up suddenly. Now that I think about it.

“Zef? Mind if I ask you something?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Well, tell me something I don’t know. And don’t hold back whatever it is that you heard me say once, ignore it. Please, you have to tell me what you’re not telling me. I already know, because Cassie mentioned the Seven Minutes in Heaven game that I clearly don’t remember. Natalia, too, before I threw my drink at her.” I say, looking at her.

Zefie blinked, her mouth opening again before closing it nervously. “A-are you sure . . ? You really don’t recall anything at all?”

“No, please tell me, Zef. Please,” I plead with all my might. “If It has something to do with the sudden knots forming inside my stomach when I first saw Drayce after so long, or that sudden pain I feel when I try to breath at the mention of his relationship. If it helps fit the missing pieces together, then I have to know.”

Zefie hesitated, but I stared back with plea for her to say more.

“Whatever burdens I left for you to carry alone that were meant for me, I’m so sorry, Zef. I want to take them back and resolve it together with you; right here, right now. It won’t hurt me, I promise.”

I watched nervously as Zefie closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, exhaling heavily and looked at me in the eye.

“You remember everything about Jasmine’s party, correct?” I nodded. “All except a certain memory that will answer the unanswered you wondered this whole time you were with Drayce?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Bethany, all of that happened, because you were in love with Drayce. Three years ago, at the party.”

Oof, not this again . . .

“What? But I don’t love him! I just see him as a friend! How many times do I have to tell people—”

“Yes you were! And you always have! None of that ever happened, because you let Natalia have him, Beth!” Tears were streaming down her cheeks before she continued. “This whole time, you were trying to muster up the courage to tell Drayce how you felt. That opportunity ignited the moment you two saw each other again. After that, the embers turned into flames when you and him kissed in Seven Minutes.”

I swallowed hard at what she was telling me. “W-what . . ? What is this? A fairytale? Those things are for people who have high hopes of meeting their so called other halves.” I stared back at her in disbelief.

“. . . I know, but that was you before, Bethany. But you never got the chance to be with Drayce. Because you told me Natalia guilt tripped you that she wanted him first, and you felt terrible. So, you allowed her.”

“If that’s the case . . . Then, she got to him first and I was rejected?”

“No you weren’t, Bethany! And that was the thing! You told me that Drayce loved you back after Natalia told you she wanted him!” She shouts at the top of her lungs.

I swallowed hard at Zefie’s words before she calmed down and continued.

“What I’m trying to tell you is, you were the one who said no to him. . .”

“And then . . ?”

She looked at me. “You wanted to forget about being in love with Drayce. You so badly wanted to stop feeling the pain of losing him, knowing that he now belongs to Natalia. You begged me to cast the forgetful spell on your memories—a spell that’s meant to aid those that went through something traumatic. And I did it, of course I did. After that, those memories disappeared the moment the spell erased them from your mind.” She choked, hearing her voice tremble. I felt so guilty for having to ask of her something this painful.

“So, that’s why I couldn’t remember any of it . . . If that’s the case, then why did my heart go all nutsy?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think the spell itself can only wipe away something simple like your mind, but it can never force your heart to—it can never forget about the person who impacted your life the most. Remember: this is a spell that erases something so traumatic; not something that can completely erase someone from our lives. And don’t ask me why, I never went to an actual Mage school. But what mattered is the spell doing its job, until you ran into Drayce. To put it bluntly: your heart went wild the moment your eyes met his. That action itself is what initiated your heart to make you remember who he was to you.”

I felt my stomach twisting into knots again, shuddering under my breath. I was in love with Drayce? And my heart was trying to tell me this whole time?

“You were ready to take the chances of a distance-relationship with him, Beth,” She speaks again. “You were so ready to sacrifice everything you will make just to be with him; and he was, too. Hell, you admitted that sneaking out of your aunt’s house was the best thing you ever did until Natalia, uh . . . Spoiled it . . ?”

“Yup. What she said, Winchester,”

My body flinched before I turned to find Drayce standing in the middle of the empty parking lot, before he walked towards me. Through my phone, I can hear Zefie gasping. My eyes never left his gaze, even when he stopped several inches away from me. Then, he turns to look at my phone and grinned.

“Long time no see, Zefie. You still look fantastic as ever.”

She smiled back. “Right back at you, Draco. You’ve gotten taller and muscular!”

The entire time, I couldn’t stop gazing at him like a moron as he took a spot next to me. When he turned to gaze over at the town, his eyes sparkled like a thousand gems and smiled in awe. After a brief silence, Zefie clears her throat loudly and we flinched. Oh, right.  

“What’re you doing here? How did you find me?”

Drayce lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, about that. I came here to apologize over what my ex did to you, and for insulting Zefie.”

“Ex?!” The two of us exclaimed in unison.

“Yeah. I tried to tell you that I broke up with Natalia about a year ago, but you walked away before I could finish. Her habit of talking shit behind people’s backs was part of the reason why I left her.” He sighed as if a weight has been lifted.

Zefie blinked. “Then, how and why did she show up at your party?”

“That's the thing, she wasn’t invited and wasn’t supposed to know. Sadly, Natalia made one of my friends spit out the information before forcing him to drive her all the way here. Natalia thought of getting back together with me, but I harshly told her it was really over.”

I rolled my eyes. “So thirsty and desperate. You made a great call on breaking up with her.”

“Ditto,” Zefie shrugged at Drayce before he laughed.

“Yes I did. Now, before I forget, I am actually here to check if you were okay, Winchester. So, I guess you can say that I followed ya and flew up here until I caught up to what you and Zefie were talking about.” He confesses, rubbing the back of his neck meekly.

“That’s okay, it actually involves most of you,” I responded before turning to Zefie. “So, now that we're all here, mind if you can wrap this up?”

Zefie looked from me, to Drayce and began to speak. “Well, that’s it really. And if you want your memories back, then that’s gonna be a problem. The Book of Spells mentions that you cannot regain memories that are lost. Once that action is done, you can no longer undo it—not even a spell or time traveling can help.”

“That’s okay, I really don’t need them. At least, not now. Thanks for helping me out. I owe you so much.” I smiled.

“Of course, no pro—“ She stops at mid-sentence to let out a long, tired yawn. Oh crap, I forgot that it’s super late for her!

“Yo, Zefie, you look awfully tired. I think it’s time for ya to hit the hay. Don’t worry about Bethany now, I can take it from here.” Drayce says, with me and Zefie gasping in unison.

“A-are you sure? I can stay up to—“

“You need rest, Zef,” I waved a hand. “All the decorating, baking, dancing, and helping me out is far too much for you. So, you deserve to rest. I’m okay now, I promise.”

Zefie looked from me to Drayce before making a knowing smile. “Alright then, I trust you two will be fine. Do it right, and no more running away. Happy Valentine’s Day to you guys, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Zef!” Drayce and I waved before our FaceTime ended.

After that, we were silent. My heart wouldn’t stop racing now that I know why. This honestly makes me understand how Zefie feels when she’s around Prince Asriel. It’s emotionally exhausting.

“How did you find me?” I asked suddenly.

“Ah, about that,” He chuckles nervously. “After forcing Natalia to go home, I ran to come look for you. So, I flew around the town till I spotted you sitting here by yourself, until I heard most of the deep conversation you had with Zefie.”

I huffed softly. “If were weren’t buddies, I would’ve called you a stalker. So, I’ll let you off the hook. But, yeah, now you know.” I say, my eyes lingering over the town.

“This hill, I can tell that you come here often.”

“Heaven’s point? Not always; it’s a place where Zefie and I go to when worse things bums us out. We sit here in silence, taking in the beauty of the town before one of us vents. Sometimes we come alone.” I say.

“So, this hill has some kind of magic power of taking away grief and anger?” He asks.

“In a way, yeah. But when Zefie left for the Selection, I came here for the past two weeks. I just couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again, while I support her to become Berdea’s future Princess at the same time. Sometimes, I wished that she would come back and . . . Oh, god. I feel selfish for saying that.”

He lets out a chuckle. “It ain’t a selfish at all. We all do miss Zefie’s company. You two are always inseparable and very close—two peas in a pod. Don’t lose hope, I’m sure one day the Prince will let his candidates see their loved ones soon.”

“Really?”

“Yup, you know it.” My train of thought abruptly stops the moment I felt a hand cover mine.

I gasped and turned to find Drayce staring back at me intently. Oh. “Uh, Everflare, your face seems to be a little too close.”

“Nope, I think it’s just where it should be,” He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “What Zefie said was true. I did confess and asked you to be mine. In fact, I have always had a thing for ya, especially the day when Zefie broke the ice to make us talk to each other . . .”

“D-Drayce, I don’t know what to say,” I admitted.

“You don’t have to. Except, maybe telling me your honest answer I’ve been waiting for?” His face inched closer until his snout touched my forehead and kissed it, earning a small whimper from me.

God dammit, I cursed. My cheeks burned madly, that I think it’s ten times darker than my skin-tone! When his clawed fingers combed through my damp hair, I instinctively closed my eyes and felt his hot breath vent against my trembling lips.

“D-Drayce, I . . .”

Just as I was expecting lips, a loud boom echoed enough to make us to jump, turning our heads to where the sound came from. I gasped. Bright streaks of vibrant color shot up into the sky, before exploding into a blaze as it illuminates over Aura Cove. Oh! I forgot about the fireworks showing up! God dammit.

When Drayce’s arm curled around my waist, I bravely moved over to sit on his lap, moving his thick arms around my waist as we watched each one burst, the sparkling particles scatter before new streaks of light takes over and combust into a different color. The more I hear the fireworks blare into my ears, the harder my heart thundered against my chest.

I swallowed hard. Exactly how long do I wait for the right moment on situations like these? Fuck it, I can’t wait any longer. Chick flicks, don’t fail me now!

I turned my body and clutch his scaly face between my palms, his gaze now locked onto mine suddenly. When he opened his mouth to say something, I leaned in to press my lips over his, feeling his arms hold my body to reel me closer to his firmly. And that was when I felt it. My body felt like it was on fire, remembering the feeling of Drayce’s lips brushing against mine, parting slightly to nibble on my lower lip as I whimpered. The urge to kiss him was so intense, I really didn’t want it to stop.

Even though my memories of falling in love with Drayce disappeared, I still had something better to regain. When I was out of breath, I pulled away as my lashes fluttered. My cheeks heated when he was breathing heavily as well. His scales were glowing in different hues from the glimmering lights the fireworks made, letting the tip of my fingertips brush over them as he groaned.

“Wow, you still kiss better as I remembered, Win—“

“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, I want to be yours, Drayce.”

His body flinched, hearing his heart hammering loudly. “S-say my name again.”

“Drayce,” I call him again. “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed. Even though I made a mistake of letting Natalia have you to herself, I’m starting to feel glad that I waited this long to change my mind. So, I want you to be mine, too. Well, of course I’ll share you with your family and friends.”

“Then be my Valentine already, dammit! I want you, all of it. And don’t you dare come up with anymore excuses. You are the only girl I see that exists within my eyes. Hell, I’ll beat the shit out of anybody who gets in my way from taking you.” He snarls against my cheek as I laughed.

“Oh my god! You did not just ask me to be your Valentine!” I card his mane with my fingers, hearing him purr.

“Yes I did, two times. Didn’t you get a candy gram? I could’ve sworn I sent you one.”

“Wait a second, that anonymous card. That was from you?!”

“Yes?” He huffed. “I figured I would’ve gotten you to remember why you’re worthy of being mine; to look at today’s holiday as a reason to love it.”

“Craaaaaap, I didn’t read it!” I said as he peppers angry kisses on my lips.

Behind me, I hear multiple thunderous explosions ringing from the distance before the fireworks show ended, leaning my forehead against his and sighed.

“You know who else is gonna be the happiest person in the world?”

“Mm, I bet it’s Zefie. I give credits to her for bringing us together.” Drayce chuckled under his breath.

“Yes, but so will my mom.” I groaned as my conversation with her played in my head.

“What’s wrong with that? She’s bound to know who’s making her daughter smiling and blushing.”

I shove down a Scotch Pillow into his maw, his eyes widening before he began to chew. My smirk grew wider the moment he swallowed.

“Is that what I think it is?!” He eyes the other piece I was holding between my fingers.

“Mhmmmm, but they require a price.” I said.

He cocks a brow. “Lemme guess, two-hundred fifty Gold?”

“Nope,” I wrap my arms around his neck and leaned close to his face. “Endless numbers of kisses.”

Drayce smiles a toothy grin and kisses me softly, before he takes my fingers into his maw to steal another scotch pillow. “Deal. Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby.”

“Two seconds after saying yes, and you’re already giving me pet names?” I grumbled as he showered more kisses on my cheek, to my ear until I gave up. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too, Love.”

With a smile, my life as a single person has officially changed forever. As funny as this sounds, I for once take my words back about this stupid holiday. After all, it’s a Valentine to remember. What I’m not looking forward to, is the endless squealing from my mom.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳

And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰

Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?

Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔

“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?

“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.

“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.

Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭

Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐

You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔

Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤

Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭

“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot

Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”

“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?

“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬

“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅

“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃

“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.

I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭

“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩

“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’

“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬

“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.

“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔

Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.

Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.

I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳

Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.

I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.

That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.

Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔

I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?

I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.

Don’t you actually dare.

“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.

Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.

Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know

Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗

Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways

Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔

Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧

Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong

Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭

“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃

“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.

Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅

“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰🤧 FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳

Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes

“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance

Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭

Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.

“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.

Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭

“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.

“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭

Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧

“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭

But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”

Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too

Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗

And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend

Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.

Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳

Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.

“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.

“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok

“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃

“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧

“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏

“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought

Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺

Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?

Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅

Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣

Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...

Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺

He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying

Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.

But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”

His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all

Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”

Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.

Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”

“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...

“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia’s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏

Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅

And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅

[cinnamon-pineforest]

Babysitting.

((Another gift for @blogwby. This time it's going to feature my RWBY oc too, Cinnamon. This is not cannon for my blog. I hope I did a good job on this and everyone likes it.))

Things at Beacon were quiet since it was Saturday. Most students were out doing their own thing or something. For Eris, Koa, and Rowen, they were looking for Oobleck. With nothing else to do they wanted to see if their leader had some ideas.

After a short while with no luck the three of them peeked into the student dormitory kitchen. They succeeded in finding Oobleck, but found something else as well. He was sitting on the couch and there was a baby stroller nearby. He also seemed to be holding something.

They walked up to him and Rowen spoke first. "Hey Captain. What are you up to?"

Oobleck perked up and looked at his team. He was holding a baby who looked to be about six months old. The baby had a tanned skin tone, a white dress on, small brown and white wings sticking out of the back of her dress, and dark brown hair. "Hey everyone. A teacher at the college here in Vale had some business with Processor Ozpin. He couldn't find anyone to babysit his daughter and Ozpin got me to do it since I was nearby. This little beauty is Cinnamon."

The three of them looked at the baby girl. The infant looked at them with her big, sparkling green eyes. There was a few moments of silence before Rowen broke it. She had a big smile of her face. "Aaawww. She's so adorable."

Eris smiled as well. "She's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen."

Oobleck looked back at Cinnamon. "Yep. Who wants to hold her?"

Rowen immediately perked up. "Me!"

Oobleck chuckled. "Alright." He stood up and handed Cin to her. "You got this?"

"Don't worry Captain. I got her."

Rowen cradled the baby girl and smiled warmly at her. Cin merely stared at her. Koa looked at them. "You certainly look happy. If I didn't know any better, I would say you were a proud Mom."

She grinned sheepishly. "Well, it's a dream of mine to become a Mom someday. I just love babies and kids. Having my own kid and raising them would be wonderful."

Koa blinked in surprise. "Really? I would think taking care of a baby would be scary. What if they get hurt or something?"

"That's one of the obstacles every parent faces." Answered Oobleck. "There's no such thing as a perfect parent. Every parent is going to make mistakes and deal with their child being hurt. It's a never ending learning experience."

Rowen smiled at her leader and nodded. "You're right there."

The red haired girl looked back at Cinnamon and kissed her on the head. She honestly couldn't wait for the day she could become a Mother. The thought of her carrying her own child briefly crossed her mind too. But, how she would become a Mother, she would just have to wait and see. After all, there was more than one way to gain your own child.

Eris, who had been watching the entire time, wrung his hands in a nervous fashion. He wanted to hold Cin too, but was a bit nervous. "Um, Rowen? Can I hold her too?"

She looked at her brother and smiled. "Sure." She walked up to him and handed Cin to him. "Here. Gently hold her like this."

When Eris was holding her the correct way he looked down at her. Cin stared back at him, not really sure what to make of him since he had his orange goggles on. Oobleck noticed he still had them on too. "I think she would prefer it if you had your goggles off. I'll take them off for you."

Eris glanced at him when he spoke up and stayed still as he took off his goggles for him. "Oh. Thanks Bart. I didn't think of taking them off."

Oobleck set them down on the kitchen counter and looked at his teammate. With his silver eyes now showing Cinnamon actually talked to him in baby babble. Oobleck grinned as he watched. "Aw. She's talking to you Eris. That's so precious."

Eris merely smiled and kissed Cin on the forehead. Koa suddenly nudged Rowen and motioned with her eyes to Eris and Oobleck. It took a few seconds to realize that Koa was trying to get her to tease them. She smiled mischievously. "You two look like a pair of proud parents with little Cinnamon."

Both Oobleck's and Eris's faces turned red and they both spoke in unison. "Rowen!"

Said girl shrugged. "What? I'm just saying. The way you two were acting made it look like you were her parents."

Oobleck stared at her for a few more moments. "I'm going to warm up her bottle. It's time for it anyway."

Eris continued to look at Cin and Rowen trotted up to Oobleck as he got the stuff out of the bag that was on the stroller. "Need help Captin?"

"No thanks. All I need to do is warm up the milk."

"Formula or did it come from her Mom?"

"I believe it came from her Mom, which is a good thing. It's healthier for both baby and Mother."

As Oobleck warmed up the bottle Eris noticed Koa staring at him and Cin. He smiled. "Want to hold her Koa?"

She perked up and gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, no thanks. I'm fine."

Rowen rolled her eyes. It was clear she was nervous around little Cinnamon. "Come on Koa, you'll do fine. Besides, if I'm going to be a Mom someday then you need to get used to being around babies." She gently took Cin from Eris and handed her to Koa. "Here ya go. Just try it."

The dark haired girl was about to decline when her teammate handed her the adorable baby. She gained a nervous look on her face and took her. Cin looked at her and she looked back. Sensing her nervousness, she began to get a bit fussy.

"You're too nervous Koa." Said Oobleck. "You need to relax and she'll calm down. Babies can sense when a person is nervous."

Koa merely handed her back to Rowen. "I can't do it, here. I'm too afraid of accidentally hurting her."

Rowen took her back. "You're not going to hurt her. But, okay."

As Oobleck warmed up the bottle he glanced at his team and lightly smiled. It wasn’t long before the bottle was warmed up and at the right temperature for Cin. “It’s done. You can feed her the first half if you want to Rowen.” 

She nodded eagerly. “Definitely.” 

She sat down on the couch and positioned Cin so she could easily feed her. Oobleck handed her the bottle and Rowen began to happily feed her. Koa turned to Oobleck. “Why did you say she could feed her the first half?”

“When the bottle is half way gone we need to burp her. Babies can’t do that on their own. Not burping her at least once while she’s drinking her milk can cause gas to build up in her stomach, causing her to become uncomfortable.” Explained Oobleck.

They all continued to watch their teammate feed Cinnamon. When the bottle was half way gone she handed it to Eris. Cin started to cry when the bottle was taken away. Rowen gained a slightly sad look on her face. “Aw. Don’t cry sweetie. You’ll get it back in a minute.”

She settled the infant on her shoulder and started to lightly pat her back. It took a little while but she finally burped. She got up and handed her to Oobleck. He sat down in her spot and positioned her so he could feed her. Eris handed him the bottle and the green haired man began to feed her. Like Rowen, he had a big smile on his face as he fed her. 

When she finished the bottle Oobleck placed it on the table and burped her again. Rowen took the empty bottle so she could wash it. As she did that Eris and Koa both sat down next to Oobleck. He continued to look at Cin and gave her a kiss on the head.

Eris smiled. “You sure have taking quiet a shine to her.”

“It’s hard not to.” He replied. “She’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen after all. There are times were I wonder if I would make a good Dad.”

“Of course you would Bart.” Said Koa. “I bet you would be the best Dad ever. You’re kind, caring, strong, and lots of other things. Seeing you take such good care of Cinnamon proves my point.”

Oobleck smiled sheepishly. “Aw. Thanks Koa. That really means a lot. Maybe I’ll be a Dad someday. But, we’ll just see what the future holds. The four of us have a long journey ahead and I know we can overcome anything if we stick together.”

“You bet Captain!” Called Rowen as she cleaned the bottle. “Nothing is going to ever tear us apart!”

Unbeknownst to them, someone was at the kitchen entrance. He smiled and cleared his throat, causing everyone to look at him. He was a tall man with a simple white shirt, black slacks, and black shoes on. He had a tanned skin tone, sparkling green eyes, and dark brown hair. 

Oobleck smiled. “Dr. Pineforest. Good to see you again.”

Richard nodded. “You too Bart. I see my daughter was in good hands.”

Rowen stared at him. “You’re her Dad? You look just like her. She’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen too.”

The man grinned. “Good to hear that.”

“Not even talking yet and she’s already a heart breaker.” Commented Eris.

“Indeed she is. Makes me wonder how many boys I'm going to have to chase off when she gets older.” Said Richard as he walked up to them.

Cinnamon was talking to Oobleck in baby babble and continued to stare at him. The future Huntsmen stood up and handed her to Richard. “It was a pleasure to watch her Doctor. If you ever need someone to babysit her again, I’ll be more than happy to do it.”

Richard chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll keep that in mind young man.” He placed Cin in her stroller and checked his wrist watch. “I’m afraid the two of us need to skedaddle. We’ve got lots of other things to do today.”

Oobleck shook his hand. “Take care Doctor.” He looked at Cin. “You too sweetheart.”

The Huntsmen smiled warmly at him. It was always so nice to see the younger generation being so responsible. Rowen placed the clean bottle back in the baby bag. “Here ya go. Washed it for ya. Hope you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “I don’t mind at all. Thank you so much. The four of you take care.”

They all bid farewell to each other and Richard left with Cinnamon. Eris and Koa looked at the clock on the wall. Koa spoke first. “We still have a lot of time left in the day. What do you two want to do now?”

Rowen placed her hands on the back of her head. “Beats me. But, I miss Cinnamon already.”

Oobleck nodded. “Me too. I wish we could’ve watched her a bit longer.”

Eris rubbed the back of his neck. “I miss her too. She was so adorable and I liked holding her.”

Koa just looked at her teammates. She honestly didn’t know what to say to make them feel better. The future Huntress thought for a moment and got an idea. “Hey. Why don’t we take a walk around town? We might see some cute babies along the way.”

The three of them perked up and smiled. Eris nodded. “That sounds like a plan. I’m in.”

“Same here.” Added Oobleck.

Rowen grinned. “Me too! What are we all waiting for? Let’s go!”

She ran out of the kitchen, causing her teammates to laugh a little. Koa shook her head. “Well, let’s catch up with her. She’ll leave us behind if we don’t get going.”

Oobleck nodded. “Yep. Let’s go everyone!”

The three of them ran after their teammate. As they ran Oobleck grinned. He never got tired of these moments with his dear friends. While things couldn’t stay the same forever, he would cherish them for as long as he can. But, he did look forward to the day they finally became Hunters. Then, they could finally do what they’ve been training to do. With the four of them working together, he had a feeling they could even make a difference in this crazy world.

[ellanainthetardis]

A much needed - and calmer - talk today! Let me know your thoughts!

[ff] or [ao3]

Chapter 55 :  No Good Choices

The door to the Training Center’s roof was already open and Haymitch groaned a little, not keen on sharing the place. He fumbled with the lighter, the cigarette already wedged between his lips… What he wanted was some peace and quiet, to escape Effie’s shrill voice as she babbled into the phone to arrange whatever it was he was supposed to be doing next.

According to the colored-code schedule she had passed around that morning on the train, the afternoon was supposed to be free. There would be a party in the evening, obviously, but for now his time was blissfully his and he wanted some fucking space.

Leaving the Districts behind was a relief. Two and One hadn’t been as bad as he had feared but he would never understand the people who lived there, the glorification of victors, the academies to train possible tributes… He had been very welcomed there. The victor who had won twice…

He pushed the door open and emerged in the soft cold. Winter was mild in the Capitol and he hadn’t bothered bringing up his coat. The sweatpants and the long-sleeve shirt were a bit too thin but he ignored it. He could deal.

It was sickening how happy he was to be back in the city. He wondered if it was a Stockholm syndrome thing, if he had been conditioned without his knowing… Or maybe it was simply that nothing in there made him feel like he had been tossed into a larger version of his arena. He would have to face the Presidential Mansion again but…

Problem for another day.

He walked close to the edge and studied the city spread at his feet, letting his eyes roam on the colorful beads of lights spread everywhere around them… ‘What is your favorite thing in the city?” Caesar had asked him earlier, after he had been done greeting his fans at the station, smiling, waving, signing and taking pictures… Haymitch had shrugged and smirked ‘My girl’. He and Effie had kissed, he had deepened it, she had pretended to be embarrassed and had rebuked him, they had bickered, everyone had been happy with the footage. The Welcome To The Capitol interview hadn’t been the most difficult thing he had faced during that Tour anyway.

The cigarette still unlit, he turned around to survey his surroundings and found what he was looking for on the other side of the roof. There were small movements in the garden and he eventually spotted the boy sitting between two potted trees. Haymitch hardly ever went into the garden. He knew it had been the kids’ corner but he preferred the bare part of the roof, with its concrete low wall. It was there that he and Effie usually discussed difficult things, safe from bugs but not bothering to pretend this was anything but what it was. The garden would have made it feel too much like a stroll.

He hesitated for a long moment before finally walking over.

Peeta must have seen him as soon as he had arrived but he hadn’t made any sign that he was there so Haymitch was probably not welcomed. But… The passive aggressive dance they had going on couldn’t go on. Not only was it painful to have the boy glaring at him behind his back, it would only get more difficult as the years went by. Twelve only had two victors now and two victors meant they would have to work together at some point, there was no point making it harder than it ought to be. He knew the kid didn’t understand his behavior. He knew he was hurting him. He knew he had made a poor job of explaining himself.

He also knew nothing could be like it used to be with Peeta.

He knew himself and he knew his limits.

He had meant what he had told the kid. He looked at Peeta and all he saw was Katniss.

He lowered himself on the ground facing the boy, right in front of a patch of jasmine. The smell was strong and maybe it was another reason he didn’t like the garden. It reminded him too much of his arena. His first one.

Peeta’s eyes tracked his every move but the kid didn’t say anything.

Haymitch plucked the cigarette from his lips and turned it over between his fingers, not quite sure how to start.

“Give it a few years and maybe you’re gonna get it.” he said slowly, keeping his gaze firmly on his hands. “I’ve been at this for twenty-five years. It’s… a lot of dead kids. It gets you… numb after a while. It ain’t that you stop caring but you just…” He licked his lips. “You learn to recognize who’s got a chance and who doesn’t, so that helps… That helps prepare you, yeah? You know they’re already dead. They just don’t know it yet.”

He chanced a glance up at Peeta. The boy was staring at him, listening. It was already something he supposed.

“Thing is… Before you… Twenty-three years… I only got maybe… two who had a real shot.” he continued with a shrug. “Kids from Twelve… Don’t need to tell you they’re at a disadvantage, yeah?” Peeta gave him a brief nod so Haymitch went on, torturing the cigarette between his fingers so badly it would be too battered to be smocked. Waste. Then again, it was the thing in the city. Waste was expected, they could always buy more. “Last year… Can’t describe how I felt when I realized I got not only one but two kids who had what it took to get to the finish line.”

“You chose Katniss.” the boy said, breaking his silence for the first time. It wasn’t entirely an accusation. It was the kid who had spilled his feelings for her and had asked him to do whatever he could to bring her back after all. Sure, Haymitch had already made up his mind at that point because as charismatic and charming as Peeta could be, Katniss had the guts and, ultimately, it was having the guts that kept you alive.

“’Cause she had what it took.” he muttered. “And you’re… You’re soft, boy.” He raised a dismissive hand before the kid could protest. “Ain’t an insult. You’re a good person. It’s a rare thing nowadays.”

Peeta sighed. “You’re not a bad man, Haymitch.”

That was debatable and not the object of the conversation.

“Thing is… The star-crossed lovers thing… I convinced Seneca it would be a great twist but I knew they would never go for two victors.” he admitted. “Not after what Katniss had done with Rue anyway. That was…”

“I saw the footage.” Peeta cut in.

“You saw part of it.” he corrected. They hadn’t showed the whole thing at the Recap during the Crowning and they had been careful to never air it again. Katniss might have told him but he hadn’t seen. “It was powerful, boy. And dangerous. Chaff only made it worse when he sent her a loaf of bread…” He shook his head. “Changed all the rules.”

“It was brave.” the boy snapped.

“Yeah, it was.” he chuckled bitterly, rubbing his forehead. “Brave and stupid and fucking inspiring. That was the point, yeah? Can’t tell you how much me and Effie were already sweating by that point… Then, the berries…” He closed his eyes and then shook his head. “The berries were the nails in our fucking coffins. But you were both alive and all the Districts were grumbling and… When Cinna told me about the rebellion, when he brought me in…” He swallowed hard at that memory. “I really thought we had a shot. With Thirteen not being as dead as I had thought… There’s always been rumors floating around but I didn’t believe it. Not until Cinna showed me and I thought…” He sighed. “They were gonna use the girl either way. She was supposed to be their Mockingjay but I only trusted them as far as I could throw them. Didn’t want her to become their martyr. And Snow… Snow was breathing down our fucking necks.”

“No good choices.” Peeta said slowly.

“No good choices.” he confirmed. “I threw our lot where I thought I could keep you both alive. Freeing Panem from the Capitol… Well, ain’t gonna lie, it would have been a nice bonus. Everything I’ve always wanted. Revenge and everything. But… I chose the rebellion ‘cause I really thought it was the only way to protect the two of you.”

“You could have told us.” the boy insisted. “You’re always keeping things from me.”

“If I had told the girl…” He made a face. It would have been a disaster. “She was already figuring some out anyway. The less she knew, the safer she was. Same for you. Same for Effie.” He shrugged. “I tried, kid.”

“And then?” Peeta asked.

“And then everything fell on our heads ‘cause Thirteen bailed out and I was glad I had kept you out of the loop.” he confessed. “Thought you would be safe. Both of you. Really did. Should have known better.” He accidentally dropped the cigarette but made no move to pick it up. It left him with empty hands though. “I wanted to save both of you, Peeta. I’m… I’m sorry I failed. I still think… Me going in was the best solution. At least I got you out. It probably ain’t much of a comfort to you but at least I got one of you out.”

Peeta studied him for a long time and then averted his eyes. “But you can’t look at me anymore.”

“Give me time.” he requested quietly. “I know it ain’t fair. I know you’re angry. But… I loved that girl.”

Saying that out loud was like tearing his chest open and clawing his heart out. He took a deep steadying breath but it smelt too much like jasmine, it smelt too much like being trapped.

He fumbled in his pocket with shaking hands, came up with an empty packet of cigarettes and crumpled it angrily.

“I know.” Peeta said at last. “I loved her too.” There was so much pain in his voice that Haymitch started compulsively tearing the packet apart in small little pieces. If the boy noticed his littering, it didn’t seem to bother him. “I’m sorry about what I said the other time. And I’m sorry I was a jerk.”

“I was a jerk too.” Haymitch admitted. “Just… It gets too much.”

“I understand.” the boy offered. “Going back for a second time… What you had to do in there… I understand. You’re probably doing well considering.”

“Yeah.” he snorted bitterly. “Considering.”

If you didn’t count regularly trying to boil himself to death in the shower.

“I’m impressed you didn’t start drinking again.” Peeta commented.

“Nothing to be impressed about.” he grumbled. “Want to. Every day I think I’m gonna cave.” He averted his gaze and stared at the oddly shaped potted tree on the left. “Can’t afford it. Can’t slip. Effie… You… Can’t risk my family again.”

Peeta seemed to perk up a little at being called family and that was good because that had been the aim. Unfortunately, it also made the boy frown. “Why again?”

His mind flashed to the Everdeen’s living-room, to the fresh burning gashes on his back, to brushing the subject with Katniss when he had tried to convince her that…

“Remember my Games?” he asked, forcing his voice to sound even and failing miserably.

Understanding dawned on Peeta’s face. “The force field.”

“The force field, holding Maysilee’s hand while she died, that I went looking for a way out of the arena in the first place…” he shrugged. “I was stupid and naïve. Lost everyone I cared about.”

“I’m sorry.” Peeta said and Haymitch shrugged. It wasn’t the boy’s fault. The kid hesitated and then it was his turn to look away. “When I got back to Twelve… Everything was different. Thread had expulsed Katniss’ family from the Village, they were staying with the Hawthornes. Mrs Everdeen…” He shook his head. “If Prim didn’t force her to feed, I’m not sure she would remember. She’s… She’s not here anymore. Her eyes are always empty.”

“She’s been through a lot.” he remarked.

“Yes, maybe, but…” the boy sighed. “Prim is a good kid but she’s thirteen and she shouldn’t have to take care of her mom like that. If I hadn’t taken them in… I don’t know how they would have fed themselves. Prim was planning on trying to sneak to the woods, to do what Katniss used to and that would only have ended in disaster. Twelve’s really not a nice place to be right now. Thread… Well, to be honest, he’s fair. He applies the law to the letter but the law’s harsh and people are starving.” Peeta shrugged. “I didn’t want to deal with all that. I kept thinking if you’d been there��”

“If I had been there, I’d have been drunk and useless. Would have gotten myself flayed on the whipping post for illegal moonshine.” he pointed out. “Ain’t good at taking care of people, kid. You’re better at mending things than I am.”

Peeta shrugged again, clearly not convinced. “Can you try calling now and then? I’m not saying I need you to call every two days like Effie does but… Maybe just once a month or something… Just check in. Prim would like that. She misses you.”

“Yeah.” he promised slowly. “Can do that.”

He would tell Effie and made sure she would force him to follow suit.

He could repair things.

“Good.” the boy nodded.

“Can’t ever be your mentor again.” he muttered awkwardly. “You get that, yeah?” It could never be like before, not with his guilt his treacherous memories, but it could be… better than this hostile relationship full of things unsaid – well, he supposed most of those things had been said now. “It’s just… That’s too much.”

“But we can be friends.” Peeta stated firmly, with the calm of a man who had been forced to grow up too quickly.

“Friends.” he repeated. “Yeah. I can do friends.”

They didn’t have to be best friends, they could be friends who sometimes exchanged phone calls and who saw each other once a year – twice maybe – to watch kids get murdered. Nothing he hadn’t done before with younger victors.

That was manageable.

[everlarkrealornot]

The PANEM Initiative, Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 19

“You seemed a little board.” Peeta smirked as they sat down for lunch after work the next day.

“Five people in the bakery are a little much…plus, I could have been more help, but the customers seem to love the Mellark Boys.” Katniss grabbed some of the bread he was slicing and started piling on the leftover turkey from the day before.

“Boys?” Peeta asked with a raised eye brow.

“Did you hear the three of you fighting yesterday?” She stood up and got the chips out of the corner cabinet.

“You’ve got a point.” Peeta sat down and started eating. “Thank you,” he said around a mouth full as Katniss handed him a bag of chips.

“You’re welcome.” They sat and ate in silence for a while. “Can I ask you something?” She asked when he took her empty plate. He nodded his head as he dumped the trash in the garbage can. “How did last night go?”

“Uh…better than expected.” Peeta sat back down. “It was interesting.” Peeta explained that Ryen had been looking at online programs for business and found one he really liked that would be starting the first of the year. He knew that his dad did his best to run the bakery but it had never been as successful as Ryen knew it could be. With Brandon, well when he graduated he had been living off of his college fund and chasing girls around. Six months ago he landed a job with a new company that was booming but he hated it. He had been relieved when they fired him but he had no other plan and his bank account was now almost empty, so he was coming home to get a fresh start.

“And what about you?” Katniss asked when he had been quiet for a moment.

“What about me?” She gave him a knowing look. “Kat, I just…” He inhaled deeply and sighed. “You know how teachers would ask you to picture yourself ten years down the road so you could get a better idea of what you wanted to do?”

“Yeah.”

“Whenever I picture our life, I’m at the bakery.” He motioned out the kitchen window. “I’m not in some fancy art studio nor do I own a gallery…I’m just…me and I’m happy.” He smiled at her. “I’m not going to give up painting but I don’t want to give up the bakery either.”

“Wow,” Katniss said in relief. She couldn’t deny that she had been worried that she was the reason he was coming home.

“What?” Peeta wrinkled his nose.

“Nothing…” the look he was giving her made her think twice. If they were going to be honest with each other, they needed to be honest about everything. “I thought part of you coming home had something to do with me.” He sat thinking for a moment before responding.

“Kat. This decision…,” he traced big circles on the table, “this decision was hard for me because for a long time I thought I was doing this because of my feelings for you, but I’m not.” He leaned back in his chair. “I did think I needed to come home after what Gale said but then I thought I needed to stay at school so that you wouldn’t be a factor in my decision. Then I realized both of those choices were a direct result of you…and this is about me.” She nodded in understanding.

“I am glad you know what you want,” she said.

“What about what you want?” He asked with a smile.

“What I want?” Katniss furrowed her brow at him.

“You can’t work at the bakery forever…you hate it,” he added.

“I don’t hate it!” She protested.

“You certainly don’t love it.” Peeta laughed. “Plus, with Bran and me home, you shouldn’t feel like your abandoning the bakery.”

He was right. Even if Ryen decided to quit working while he was back in school, the bakery no longer needed her – it was in the very capable (and probably safer) hands of the Mellark Boys.

She grabbed her phone and flipped through the screens trying to find the screen shot she had taken a couple of days before.

“Here,” she handed him the phone, “I found this a couple weeks ago.”

Peeta took it and read through the ad.

“Kat, this would be perfect – you have to set up an interview.”

“Hold up a minute…the ad says I need to bring five family recipes, come with one already prepared dish, and then show my cooking skills by completing one of their recipes.”

“Alright then,” he said as dragged her to her feet, “You better find your five recipes quickly.”

–

Three days later Katniss found herself standing before an extremely large house that she could only describe as a Victorian Plantation Home. She clutched an insulated carrier in one hand, a small cooler in the other, and was cursing Peeta as she nervously walked up the steps to the porch. She stopped in front of the door and took a couple of deep breaths before ringing the bell. She heard footsteps approaching the door and thought about running for her car, but the door opened before she could make up her mind.

“Hi, you must be Katniss, come in.” He waved her in and closed the door behind her. “I’m Cinna.” He smiled warmly.

“Nice to meet you,” she said and returned his smile.

“Well, then, the kitchen’s this way.” He lead her through the foyer (which had an impossibly tall ceiling), into the dining room (which Cinna said was the smaller of the two – Katniss was sure at least 20 people could eat there), and finally into the kitchen. “You can set your stuff down where ever you like.”

“Wow.” The word was a whisper as she sat her things on the counter. Katniss had never been in such a beautiful and well stocked kitchen in her life.

“I know.” Cinna laughed a little. “It’s a shame that it hardly ever gets used.”

“This is high end, restaurant quality stuff.” She ran a hand over one of the stoves. “You’re going to let me use theses?”

“If you pass the first stage of the interview.” Cinna pulled out one of the bar stools and sat down.

“Right.” Katniss nodded and grabbed the stuff she had brought with her.

“So, what’s for lunch?”

–

“How did it go?” Peeta immediately asked when he picked up the phone.

“I got it!” Katniss practically shouted. She had just barely gotten into the car and started pulling away before she dialed Peeta.

“Yes!” Peeta cheered. “I’m so happy for you, Kat.”

“Thank you!”

When she got home her mom was waiting anxiously at the kitchen table. She had been just as ecstatic as Peeta had been when he heard the news and demanded that Katniss sit down right then and tell her everything.

Katniss had learned that Cinna was a clothing designer who had just broken out on his own. His designs had exploded on the market and his clothes were in high demand. He wasn’t a very good cook but didn’t have the time for it anyway. His mother had been a wonderful cook and those were the recipes that he had been hoping (and was delighted to find out) that Katniss could recreate.

Katniss had been surprised when they started talking about work hours. First thing, Cinna hated breakfast food and didn’t care if she ever fried an egg for him. Second thing, Cinna had a lot of dinner parties. He was hoping that she could work three full days and one dinner party each week. She would be doing the shopping and clean up along with prepping meals for him on the days she wouldn’t be there.

“Sounds like we need to figure out how to get you a car.” Helen had said with a tight smile.

–

Katniss was starting to cut down her hours at the bakery so that by Christmas she would no longer be there. She was excited to spend Prim’s Christmas break with her…plus the thought of no longer having to try and replicate Peeta’s cheese buns was nice. What was not nice was that what little time she did spend at the bakery these days was spent working with Brandon. And he was annoying. And full of himself. And needed to be punched in the face.

And was still friends with Gale. Katniss knew they had been on the football team together and graduated the same year, but she didn’t think they had stayed in contact after high school, which they apparently had.

“Hawthorne! Hey! What’s up man?!” Brandon shouted.

Katniss had been in the middle of organizing the display case when Brandon said his name and she hit her head on the top shelf, leaving a splitting feeling at the back of her skull. She stood up, rubbing her scalp, and glared at the two boys who were oblivious to her presence.

“Katniss!” Posy yelled as she finally wondered around her brother. Katniss’s cheeks flamed as Gale’s eyes flicked up to meet hers. “I miss you!”

“Hi, Posy.” Katniss smiled and walked around the counter to kneel down to give the little girl a hug. “Are you enjoying kindergarten?”

“Yes!” She rocked on her tiny feet, beaming at Katniss. “Are you coming for dinner soon?”

“I don’t know honey…I’ve been pretty busy lately.” Which hadn’t been a complete lie…she might not have been working as much, but she was very close to finishing the wedding packet that Effie had sent her.

“Aww, okay.” Posy pouted.

“I better get back to work, okay?” Katniss hugged her one more time and stood up. She did her best to ignore Gale’s watchful eyes as she went back to the display case.

The boys continued to talk but the phone rang and Brandon grabbed it up before Katniss could even extract herself from the case.

“Gale, can I get a cupcake?” Posy pulled on her brother’s coat.

“Come on, Posy, we need to get going.”

“Please, Gale?” She wined. He looked between Brandon, who was still on the phone taking an order, and Katniss, who was trying to pretend that she couldn’t hear them as she closed the case up. “Please?” She asked again.

“Fine.” His shoulders slumped forward.

“Yay!” Posy ran up to the counter. “Katniss, Gale says I can get a cupcake…which one did you make?” Posy asked, wide eyed. Katniss smiled at the girl.

“I didn’t make these, but Peeta did and he makes the best cupcakes!” Katniss grabbed one and handed it to Posy. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Posy skipped away from the counter in delight.

“Bran said you were leaving the bakery.” Gale handed her a five out of his wallet.

“I’m done after Christmas.” She handed him back his changed and slammed the cash drawer closed. “Then you can come in whenever you want and not have to see me.”

“Katniss, that’s not what I meant.”

“You might want to help her with that.” Katniss pointed to Posy who now had frosting all over her face.

“Posy!” Gale walked over and picked his sister up, sighing. “Let’s go.”

“See ya, Hawthorne!” Brandon called as he sat the call in order on the counter. “They should be here in about 15,” he said to Katniss. She just nodded. “You two seemed a little…cold for best friends.”

“Shove off, Bran!” Katniss snapped at him.

“Gesh!” Brandon threw up his hands. “Rye makes a snarky comment and you play along, but I make one little observation and I get my head cut off.”

“ONE?!” She yelled. “Since when do you ever just make one comment about anything? You are always taking digs at Rye and you rag on Peeta constantly!”

“Sorry that I’m not as perfect as the golden sons!” He stormed into the back with Katniss on his heels.

“Get off it Brandon! No one feels bad for you – you’re the reason you’re always a mess.”

“That’s right, when Peeta and Ryen’s life are off course, it’s totally fine, but when my life is a mess, it’s my fault!” He started collecting the dirty dishes and clanging them together.

“You’re the one who got yourself fired!” She slammed her hand down next to her on the counter, sending up a cloud of flour.

“I didn't get fired, I quit!” He dropped the bowls into the sink, sending a huge splash of water to the floor, and a loud clanking sound rang in the air.

“But, why would you – ”

“Hey!” The back door slammed shut as Ryen’s voice rang out. “How’s the morning going?”

“I’m done for the day.” Brandon yanked his apron off and threw it to the floor before stomping out.

Buy me a coffee?

[thegirlfromoverthepond]

The Firebird - Chapter 23

Step 23 : Dance (Santiago’s Dream)

My deepest thanks to @xerxia31, @titaniasfics and dandelion-sunset for their expertise in grammar, spelling, commas and everything that needed to be corrected … and there was a lot. Ask xerxia about my meltdowns …

To @akai-echo  – thank you my friend for everything you’ve done for this fic – the banners and aesthetics are beyond gorgeous.

Only one chapter left, folk – and a epilogue – should  I post them separately ?

Here on AO3 - FFN

It was easier now to start her day. The burden of the show was gone, the pressure off her shoulders. The company got excellent reviews, praising Cinna’s creativity in terms of costumes, as well as the ensemble performance of the dancers. Katniss herself even got some very good ones pointing out how her performance made the Firebird believable.

But all those good words were nothing compared to how proud Peeta was of her, staying by her side the whole evening long, ending up at Chez Valerie with all of the other dancers, like in the good old days, but always keeping his focus on her, never on his aborted ballet career.

There was a hilarious moment when Finnick called, after his own day of rehearsals, to congratulate her on her hard work. Apparently, Peeta had sent him pictures. For the first time in a long time, Katniss felt free, happy and light. She knew the big show of the season was coming up, and she hoped she would have a role to play in it - one of the fairies, maybe, whichever would be a fit for her. But the nominations wouldn’t come for quite some time, and she didn’t want to think about it yet.

For now, her only concern was finding tiny Rue in the crowd of people surrounding the Arena, rushing to get inside the theater. Tonight, along with a bunch of other dancers from the National, they were going to see Peeta’s show. And she didn’t mind seeing him dance on a stage. She enjoyed the way his body moved with an almost feline grace. She’d seen it in hours of rehearsal together, and in their newfound intimacy - hands wandering under the clothes, tentatively mapping each other, even if they still had yet to take that big step together.

“Katniss!” Rue’s high-pitched voice tore her out of her memories of Peeta’s hands under her camisole two nights ago, his fingers brushing the sides of her bra, the shivers it elicited on her heated skin. Katniss could see Thresh following his girlfriend, a polite smile on his face - he apparently wasn’t as excited as Rue to come.

“I’m so glad we can go together! And Thresh told me Peeta would be on stage tonight?” Rue said, fumbling in her purse to find the tickets.

“Yes he will be, I hope you don’t mind, Theodore?” Katniss chimed in, taking her ticket out of her jeans pocket. Being the girlfriend of one of the dancers had its perks, as she had realized when he had handed her her free entrance pass. Thresh grumbled an answer, clearly not as happy to be the only man in the group.

They were all ushered inside, their seats near the very front of the Arena, and waited until the now familiar music started. Familiar for Katniss, at least. She wasn’t surprised anymore by the music of Ricky Martin blasting out of the speakers, and focused her attention on Peeta’s appearance on the stage, to Alfredo’s music.

Katniss remembered that night he danced with Delly in the opening number, making her spin and turn, dance in the light. Katniss didn’t feel any jealousy towards the woman in his arms - their relationship was one of brother and sister, and Delly was clearly head over heels about her fiancé and couldn’t wait to marry him.

But her practiced eyes saw something more to her dance - something a bit off. Like Delly wasn’t as sure as she had been the previous time.

Of course, she smiled to the crowd, but Katniss’s trained eyes noticed a little limp, a little something that was amiss, like how Delly leaned onto Peeta a bit more. She turned her head, meeting Thresh’s eyes and nodded, answering his silent question.

She made a mental note to text Peeta at intermission, to ask if everything was right with Delly.

The first part of the show passed in a whirlwind of colors and applause, of latin music and dance. Even Thresh was sucked into the spectacle, Katniss could see his fingers tapping the tempo on his thigh.

As soon as the intermission started, her phone buzzed with a text from Peeta, asking her to come backstage as soon as the lights were on. Katniss quickly excused herself from her friends, dialing Peeta’s number as she tried to find a secluded place to talk to him.

“Kat, can you come backstage? We need you!”

“What do you mean you need me? Oh, Peeta, did you hurt yourself?”

She could hear him chuckle on the other end of the phone.

“No, nothing like that. But I, well, we have something to ask you. Can you come backstage? Gloss will let you through.”

“Okay - let me tell Rue and Thresh and I’ll be right there. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Sweetheart, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Don’t call me Sweetheart!” she answered, her usual comeback when he used the pet name she disliked, even though she knew it was futile. Peeta was almost as stubborn as she was. His laugh was the last thing she heard as he hung up the phone.

Katniss quickly moved back to where Rue and Thresh were sitting, telling them she was heading backstage for a few minutes, before actually going to the stage, nodding at Gloss, the muscle-man standing guard - who was actually a sweetheart - and slipping behind the curtain.

She searched for any sign of Peeta, making her way into the locker room, greeting some of the dancers she recognized.

“They are in the room in the back,” Johanna said, passing Katniss. She was clad only in a tiny red thong, a bottle of water in her hand. “This is going to be fun!”

Wondering what the hell she meant, Katniss entered the room Johanna indicated to discover Peeta bent over Delly, who was lying on one of the benches lining the walls, a pack of ice on her left knee.

“Oh my god, Delly, what happened?”

In a blink, Katniss crossed the room, taking in the puffy red eyes, the traces left by the tears Delly had shed.

“She sprained her knee, I think,” Peeta said, rising from Delly’s side and coming to Katniss immediately, folding her in a hug. “Thanks for coming, Kat.”

She returned the hug, happy to see nothing bad had happened. Of course, Delly’s knee would need to be tended to, but it was nothing a few good weeks of rest couldn’t heal. Katniss pulled away from Peeta’s arms, and said, “You want me to drive her to the hospital?”

“Not exactly…” she heard Delly answering her question. “Thom is coming to pick me up… but we need someone to dance with Peeta in the finale.”

“Oh, who will do it? Johanna?” Katniss asked as she watched Peeta rake his hand nervously through his hair, his cheeks turning redder by the minute.

“You’re really brainless, Brainless.” Johanna made her entry, now wearing a gorgeous black lace dress opened high on her thigh. “You dance with him.”

“I can’t dance in this! That’s a crazy idea!” Katniss answered. “And why don’t you dance with him?”

“Because all of the other dancers are on stage in the number just before the finale, and only Dells was available,” Peeta finally spoke. “I know you can do it, Kat - it doesn’t have to be perfect, and we can rehearse a bit before the end…”

“I’ve never danced like that and you know it, Peeta!” She could feel the familiar grip of fear spreading through her body, leaving a cold feeling in her veins. She knew she should go back to her seat in the audience, should go back to Rue and Thresh as soon as possible. But there was something in Peeta’s eyes as he looked at her, something she had never seen before, something she couldn’t decipher. He was raking his hand through his locks over and over again, when a high pitched ring startled him.

“We have to go back,” Johanna said, breaking the silence.

Peeta nodded at the brunette who hurriedly left the room. Then he came to Katniss, taking her hand in his and guiding her to a quiet corner at the other end of the room.

“I have to go back, I’m opening with Jo instead of Dells,” he said, looking at her sadly. “I’m sorry Kat, I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. We’ll stop the show one number before, it won’t be too bad, the girls can fill in for Delly and it’s just one number.”

Katniss felt relief in the pit of her stomach as she realized she wouldn’t have to go on stage, perform the last dance of a show, a dance she didn’t know and didn’t have time to learn.

“Don’t worry, I understand. Go, you’re needed on stage.” Katniss leaned in, pecking his lips, eager for more, so eager, but it was neither the place nor the time for that. “I’ll stay with Delly until Thom arrives, okay? Go, be great!”

She leaned in again, wanting to feel the warmth of him again, even if it was for a split second. She allowed her lips to trace his jaw - she liked his jaw - until she reached his ear, whispering, “I love to watch you dance,” before pulling away and walking to Delly, leaving Peeta speechless, with sparkles in his eyes.

Or maybe it wasn’t sparkles.

Maybe it was desire.

But his look did something to her too, elicited feelings from deep down and a warmth that she wasn’t sure she could staunch much longer.  She turned back to see the look in his eyes, then turned again and felt his gaze burning between her shoulder blades, as she walked towards Delly, until she heard the door closing.

“He’s a good guy,” Delly said as Katniss sat next to her head. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I know.” It wasn’t news to Katniss that her boyfriend was a nice man. Maybe the nicest she’d ever met.

“He’s been happier the past few weeks, I guess I understand why…” Delly added, with a small smile on her face. “I guess he’ll change his mind about the +1 at our wedding…”

“What do you mean?” Katniss was startled, not really understanding what the other woman was saying.

“He said I didn’t need to send him an invitation for a plus one for the wedding, but that was months ago. So I’m going to send him one, because I bet he will want you by his side.”

Delly’s wedding. Katniss hadn’t honestly paid a second of attention to the upcoming June nuptials, even though she knew Peeta would attend. Would he want her to come with him?

“You sure you don’t want to go on stage with him?” Delly asked again, breaking Katniss out of her reverie. “To dance the last dance?”

“Delly….” Katniss sighed. “I’m not a Latin dancer, you know that. I would only ruin the show. And even if I could dance these steps, I don’t know the choreography….”

Delly rose to a sitting position, keeping one hand on the ice pack covering her knee, scowling at Katniss.

“That’s bullshit, Katniss, and you know it.”

“Delly…”

“Don’t Delly me, girly. You’re a dancer in the most difficult area of dancing, hell, you’re a ballet dancer! I can’t even begin to understand how you do it, okay? So many hours of work, so many steps, it’s so bloody difficult! And you say you can’t do a bit of Latine dancing?  I say it’s bullshit. You’ve spent enough mornings rehearsing here with our two best dancers, moving your little ass to our music to get it. You can dance anything, Katniss. Anything. And as for the choreography, do you really think Peeta would let you down? Really?”

Katniss knew he wouldn’t. Just like he had guided her in the salsa club, or in the jazz one, just like he had always been there to help her.

And the only time he asked for her help, she had said no. Out of fear, out of shyness, but she never actually considered helping him, hadn’t even given a thought to it.

“Having an epiphany, have we?” Katniss turned to Delly, who was now smirking. “Well, you know what to do, then.”

“But, how? I mean--”

“I’m planning a wedding. This is nothing compared to that. Let me make a few calls.” Winking, Delly took her phone from her purse, starting the first of a long list of calls.

--

Katniss’s heart was beating a little too fast, a little too hard, as she watched the number unfold from her position near the curtains, hidden in the dark of the backstage. In the background,  women were spinning and bending to the music, the tempo getting quicker with every pass or move, finishing in a flurry of red and black dresses and shirts. The music died, and the audience applauded. Katniss knew that was the point when Peeta would remain alone on the stage, dancing on his own until Delly joined him for a passionate tango.

Only tonight, it wouldn’t be Delly.

She smoothed the dress she had borrowed - a simple orange halter dress - flexed her ankles in the shoes Delly lent her (they wore the same size) and took a deep breath.

She looked at him, waiting for the music to begin, alone on the stage, the light on him making his curls shine. He started moving along to the music, with only a spot bathing him in white light as he danced alone, mimicking holding a woman that wasn’t there.

Rotations in the tiny spotlight, eyes closed and a look of sadness and longing on his face, he danced only in the little part of the stage lit by the white spot, never stepping a foot outside the circle, yet never lingering too long in one place.

Katniss had no clue when she was supposed to go onto the stage, just memories of the first show she had seen when Delly had stepped into the light like an apparition, finding her place in Peeta’s arms naturally. She was questioning her ability to do it when she heard a slight deceleration in the music, like it was slowing down on purpose. She took a deep breath, and walked onto the stage on shaky heels, expecting two strong arms to catch and lead her into a routine she had only seen once.

She saw Peeta’s astonishment as she walked in the spotlight, into the arms that had opened to welcome her, heard his voice whisper in her ear as he pulled her closer to him, so close she wasn’t sure a hair would fit between them.

“Thank you, thank you….”

Katniss pulled her head away and looked into his eyes, watching them smile and sparkle, as he lead her in the dance.

Sure, it was nothing compared to the one she had seen him perform with Delly some months ago.

Sure, it was nothing like it could have been, had he danced with another seasoned pro.

But it was their dance, and it was perfect.

They turned and swirled to the lament of the music, his careful guidance hinting at the steps she was supposed to take, her body adapting to his rhythm and requests, their eyes never leaving one another’s. She could feel his hands burning on her skin, his fingers drawing patterns of their own, a sensual painting as they lingered a little lower with each move they made. She could feel the caress of the fabric of his trousers, between her legs as he bent her backwards, her hair brushing the hardwood. But as she   straightened, Katniss felt his hand tracing a line under her chin, from her sternum to her navel, leaving goosebumps on her skin.

She was sure the heat in his eyes when she was finally upright in front of him again could have burned her alive.

She could still feel the place his hand had travelled, burned through the thin cotton of her dress, and she realized she wanted more, much more than just a touch. Peeta made her spin, catching her as she arrived back in his arms, and lifting her above his head, then letting her slide down his chest. She was sure he was able to feel how erect her nipples were when they rasped along his thin white undershirt, if the gasp that escaped his lips was any indication.

If the way his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips was any indication, eliciting the same reaction in her.

She almost forgot there was an audience behind them, almost forgot they weren’t alone on the stage.

Peeta’s hands drew her even closer to him, so close they shared the same breath.

She felt his pelvis brushing against hers, and had to use all her restraint not to moan when she felt him so close to where she wanted him.

Katniss let her hand leave the comfort of his shoulder, sliding down his chest, until it reached his ribcage, started her own fantasy drawing on his white undershirt, making him lose his breath. He had his sweet revenge too, as he nuzzled her neck with his mouth, hiding in her loose hair, before whispering, “In eight, you go backstage… but I’m not done with you. Keep the dress.”

And sure enough on the eighth beat he spun her out of the light, until she reached the backstage.

Breathless.

She had danced the most difficult ballets, been on stage for more hours than she could count, but today’s performance - doing something that she couldn’t even call difficult - had left her breathless.

And she knew it had nothing to do with the dance itself and everything with the man who had made her spin, who was now finishing his routine alone, the same way he had started, until he too vanished into the dark, letting the music die with the light. Until the stage was quiet and dark.

Applause exploded from the audience after a few seconds, breaking the silence. As if it had taken the people watching some time to recover from the power of the final scene. The house lights illuminated the crowd of people applauding as the dancers came out one after the other onto the stage - even Delly - to accept their accolades. The clamor only grew louder when Peeta appeared at the end of the row, close to the curtain, and Katniss added her applause from the other side of the stage.

As usual, Peeta took the mic he was handed, thanking the spectators for coming, introducing the band, the dancers one after the other, until he handed it to Delly who always was the one to introduce him. She took the microphone, clearing her throat before turning to the audience.

“And finally, the last dance introduced someone new to the company, someone who has never danced on our stage before. Please welcome our guest star, Miss Katniss Everdeen, Principal Dancer at the Panem National Ballet!”

Katniss’s jaw almost fell onto the hardwood of the stage as she heard Delly’s words. Was she dreaming or did Delly just asked her to come on stage? She looked around and saw an arm outstretched for her, Kevin’s or Dylan’s, she could never remember who was who, beaconing her to come and join them. But she wouldn’t move, not when she could stay in the comfort of the shadows.

“Oh, come on, Katniss, please! Peeta, you should go and get her!”

Katniss could see the surprise on Peeta’s face at his friend’s words, then he looked at her, as if he was waiting for her approval to come and get her, even if the crowd and his fellow dancers were all applauding. She nodded a single time, and he made his way across the stage.

“You don’t have to come out, if you don’t want to,” he whispered as soon as he was next to her.

“I know.” She took a deep breath and reached for his hand, to give herself some courage, before stepping onto the stage, to the rhythm of the applause.