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"Not Real."

A Peeta x Katniss sad angsty totally not canon oneshot

I broke my own heart while writing this

Him and Katniss had just laid down on the bed, ready for sleep. He couldn't see katniss's face as she snuggled beside him, but he could hear her breathe. He stupidly tried to match his breathing with her's, just like he had that night in the first arena. He inhaled when she inhaled, exhaled when she exhaled. But it was too fast for him.

It was this fast, uneven breathing, that told him she wasn't asleep yet. A question, the one that had been lingering in the back of his mind for months now, came to the forefront. He wondered if he should ask her, if he should risk his heart getting broken. Then he wondered what was worse, knowing, or not knowing; and decided on the latter.

"You love me. Real, or not real?"

He held his breath, anticipating the answer. The sound of katniss's breath also stopped, maybe she was taken by surprise. Their breathing finally matched.

It was a long wait. The room was filled by the sound of rustling leaves by the window, buttercup's purring at the end of the bed, and then katniss's sigh. He knew the answer was coming.

"Not real."

The words hit him like the waves of the second arena. He would have fell to his knees if he wasn't laying down. He had expected this, tried to play out in his head how he'd react, what he'd feel. But it was nothing like what he had thought.

It felt as if he was 16 again. In the line of boys in the town centre, hoping the chit wouldn't have his name, wondering what it'd feel like if it did have his name, what he'd do if it did have his name. And again, it was nothing like he'd thought.

It was the same feeling of confusion. The same feeling of sorrow. The same feeling of emptiness. The same feeling of your will to live being snatched away. He had been lost then. He was lost now.

Nothing more was said by either of them. Nothing more was left to be said. They'd continue their lives like usual. Katniss would keep hunting for him, he would keep baking for her. They'd keep being each other's company. He promised to himself, just like he had that first day of the games, that he'd protect her, even if it cost him his life. Even if it cost him his heart. He'd protect her.

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Flowers For You

A sweet work in progress, based on that one flower shop au post.

George sat in the shop, tending to the flowers in a nearby pot. The day was bright and beautiful, sunny but not too warm. It was a perfect day for a Sunday picnic, but unfortunately it was not Sunday, and George was forced to work. It's not like he hated his job, infact he loved it. It's just that sometimes it was boring to sit in a shop looking at flowers all day. Sometimes a customer or two would come in, but leave soon. He had even started to consider leaving the flower shop and looking for work somewhere else.

But there were also the busy days, which he liked very much. The busy days were when there was a large order for flowers, for some event like a wedding. Or a funeral. Today was supposed to be one of those days, as there was a large order for decoration flowers for a wedding. Not any random wedding, it was George's best friend's wedding, and everything had to be perfect for it.

He was so excited about it, and perhaps a little nervous too, that the adrenaline rushing in him made him do every task he had first thing in the morning. He was done by 10 o'clock, and all that was left to do was to wait.

He was still thinking about his friend's wedding, how excited he was, how excited she must be, when the bell above the door rung, notifying that someone had come in. There were violent scuffling of shoes, and George rushed to the counter to attend to this very impatient customer. The customer was a tall man, wearing a green hoodie. As soon as George stepped behind the counter, the man slammed his hand on the table, and said

"Ok, how do you say fuck you in flowers?"

"sorry, what?" george asked, taken aback by this weird request

"how do you say fuck you in flowers?" the man said, slower this time.

George almost scoffed at him, made a nasty remark about how he had heard his request the first time and was just shocked at the demand. But he didn't, instead he said, "uhm, you'd need some geraniums, foxglove, some-"

"yeah, please just put all that in a bouquet. And quick, its urgent." The man cut him short, and George thought about how well his afternoon was going before the customer came in.

George went to the back of the shop, preparing the bouquet. The man kept tapping his fingernails on the counter, irritating George a lot. Finally he spoke up, "can you not?"

The man raised a brow in question.

"can you not make that tapping noise,"

"oh" he looked a bit taken aback, maybe he was just realising that he was making such noise at all "sorry."

There was a pause, everything went quiet for a while, the only sound coming was of George's shoes squeaking against the floor, and the of the paper in his hand. George thought to himself how he liked it that way, quiet, and how stupid it was to even think about leaving this job.

The man spoke up again "can you please be quick? I'm in a hurry." George rolled his eyes, trying to hide his frustration from the man. He turned around to present the bouquet to him.

"ok, so this one germanium," George said, pointing to the flowers in the bouquet one by one, "it's for stupidity, this one is foxglove, for insincerity, this is meadowsweet, for uselessness-"

"uh yeah, sorry but i don't have time for this" the man said, trying to take the bouquet from his hands, but George stepped back with it.

"if you want this, you have to listen first," he said. This guy had just came in and ruined George's mood, and now he has to pay for it.

The man looked at George wide eyed. But when he didn't move, the man nodded in defeat.

"now these are yellow carnations, to show disappointment, and finally we have orange lilies, for hatred." George said, with pride.

"Can I have them now?" The man said, and George handed the bouquet over to him. As soon as he got the bouquet, the man quickly walked out the door, sat in his car and drive away.

It hit George a few minutes later, when he was recording the sale, that the man never paid. A beautiful and exciting day, ruined by one single man.

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