Peeta Mellark Roleplay blog

"If it's you or me, like last year, I can't lose you. Never make me lose you." Because Katniss was the only one who cared enough, if he lived or died, at least that was how Peeta thought things were.

"I never expected you to. But, Katniss... I can't lose you. That is just the way it is. You're a survivor, Katniss. You have been for years. Ever since you were little. Ever since I threw you that bread. I want you to survive. If anyone deserves it, it's you." He looked at her, taking in all details, the braid, the gray eyes, now like storm clouds. "Katniss.. you may be the only person in the world who I care about except my family.. so, if it comes to it, I want it to be you. If it's you or me."

Something in her broke when he said that—softly, like it wasn’t the cruelest thing he could offer. “No,” she whispered, voice low but edged with steel. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you dare make me survive at the cost of you.” Her breath came too fast, too shallow. She turned away, then back, unable to stay still, as if the words themselves had set her on fire. “That’s damning me to live in a world without you.”

She swallowed, and her voice cracked—not with weakness, but something deeper. “If it’s you or me… then we both fight. And we both live. Or we die trying. Together.” And if the game makers tried to pit them against one another again, then the whole of Panem would be in for another surprise. Katniss would never be able to hurt Peeta, and Snow knew that. "You're so frustrating, Peeta Mellark"

"They'll use that against us, Katniss. They'll not let both of us come home again. You know it, I know it." The Game makers weren't going to let them live in peace, it seemed, and that was just the way it was, Peeta supposed.

"Maybe we should have just swallowed the berries. It... If you ... don't make it home, I won't go home. I can't look your mother or Prim, in the eyes and know that the one they wanted home, won't come home."

He reached his hand out, not touching her, but just held his out.

"You are frustrating too, sometimes... but.. Katniss Everdeen... I think you're the only one who actually cares if I come home or not."

Peeta had made up his mind the moment the games had been announced. He'd make sure Katniss made it home even if he didn't.

"Katniss. It's my choice. I want you to come home if I can't. If not me, then it has to be you." Peeta said, looking right into the gray eyes he loved so much.

"I have decided. Because... I won't make it home. I won't have a chance, but you.. you can make it home. I want you to come home if I can't. It's.. I'd save you one last time, if I can."

Katniss stared at him, heart pounding, breath shallow. The words struck her like a blow—quiet, steady, final. She hated how calm he was when he said it. Hated the softness in his voice, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered, like she was already slipping away and he was just trying to hold on.

But she wasn’t some prize to be protected. Not again. Not like this.

Her fists clenched at her sides. “No,” she said, voice low but firm. “You don’t get to decide that for me.” A pause, her fingers flexing at her side. “You think I can just live with that?” she asked. “With the thought that you threw yourself away so I could survive again? I didn’t ask for that, Peeta. I never wanted that.”

"If it's you or me, like last year, I can't lose you. Never make me lose you." Because Katniss was the only one who cared enough, if he lived or died, at least that was how Peeta thought things were.

"I never expected you to. But, Katniss... I can't lose you. That is just the way it is. You're a survivor, Katniss. You have been for years. Ever since you were little. Ever since I threw you that bread. I want you to survive. If anyone deserves it, it's you." He looked at her, taking in all details, the braid, the gray eyes, now like storm clouds. "Katniss.. you may be the only person in the world who I care about except my family.. so, if it comes to it, I want it to be you. If it's you or me."

Peeta watched, and sat silent for a moment, just observing. "Just try. For... for your sister, your mother, and... everyone else." Not necessarily for his sake. He didn't expect to make it home, and even if he did, it would never be the same. Because there would be no Katniss Everdeen there.

And she was the survivor of the two of them. His own mother had said it, and Peeta knew it. Didn't doubt Katniss' survival skills for a second. But Peeta had won by chance, not skill. There was no skill involved, as far as he was concerned, just luck. "We both know that you have a better chance either way. You deserved to win, and you can do it again. Your family needs you."

Peeta's family on the other hand, would likely not care if he never came home.

But Katniss had a family who needed her, and she had to come home.

Katniss didn't look at him right away. Her fingers twitched against her thigh, nails digging into the fabric of her pants, the way they did when she was trying not to let something show on her face.

Of course he would say something like that. Of course he would still be thinking of everyone else.

She wanted to scream at him. Shake him. Ask why he was so willing to throw himself away. Why he kept acting like she was the only one worth saving. Like his life didn’t mean anything.

So she forced herself to meet his eyes.

"Don’t do that," she said, voice low and steady. "Don’t talk like you’ve already decided."

Peeta had made up his mind the moment the games had been announced. He'd make sure Katniss made it home even if he didn't.

"Katniss. It's my choice. I want you to come home if I can't. If not me, then it has to be you." Peeta said, looking right into the gray eyes he loved so much.

"I have decided. Because... I won't make it home. I won't have a chance, but you.. you can make it home. I want you to come home if I can't. It's.. I'd save you one last time, if I can."

"It felt real." Probably because he wanted to believe it. "Katniss. You don't have to be good at wording things. You really don't."

He knew that it was likely to never be ghe same, and maybe it had been foolish, or naive to allow himself to believe it was real. But it had, either way, felt genuine.

"I didn't exactly do much to make sure we both got home. That was all you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here right now, and we both know that. I can never thank you enough for that. Even if you don't, I'll ... always, have some kind of ... feelings for you." But only from a distance. It would have to be that way.

2birds1song

❝ well, i like to try. ❞ being good at words... she means. just for him. a confession she wouldn't declare out loud, however. ❝ don't talk like that. ❞ dark brows gently pinch, a gentle shake of her head but still stern in her belief she won't allow peeta to underestimate and undermine himself like that. why does he think so little of himself?

❝ yes you did. you saved me. we saved each other. ❞ she blurts, ❝ it wasn't the first time you saved me either. ❞ she should elaborate... tell him how he saved her when he threw her the bread when they were a lot younger. ❝ it's complicated. but i promise... it doesn't have anything to do with you. it's me and being afraid of things like that. ❞ voice growing more quiet by the end of her sentence.

relationships, commitment; when survival was on the line. being awkward with affection, in general. did she even have that magic power? katniss felt she wouldn't know how to love him properly even if she acted on any of those strong feelings that stayed locked inside her chest. that panged, reminded her they were definitely THERE each time her seam greys locked on his sweet hues. she wasn't good at deciphering anything about relationships... but she certainly was aware he deserved to be loved properly.

"If it wasn't for you I'd not have made it when I needed medicine. I could never have gotten that on my own, and you know that." Peeta said, watched the table, blue eyes cast down.

"I remember the first time." And he did, the smell of the burnt bread, the rain, and above all, how angry his mother had been that he burnt the bread. "I can wait. But I can't go on acting in public, and then... just pretend it never happened. I am willing to wait. And willing to try if you are." Peeta had loved her for twelve years, and if waiting was what she wanted, he was willing. Willing to wait, starved on some kind of affection. Know that he mattered to someone. He wanted to feel important.

"It's just that I didn't think that anyone cared for me, until the games. Actually cared."

#2birds1song

"I'll come over. Do you have one tonight?" Peeta asked, not sure if Katniss would ever agree to coming over for a dinner. Maybe he could convince her. "I would like to. Get to formally meet everyone." And get advice. Anything he could use to keep it going as smoothly as possible for his first ever mentor year.

"I'll see if Katniss wants to join in, if she doesn't, I'll go alone."

" you should encourage her to , " she grinned at the prospect of the guests . mags' big hope was to get the newbies in whenever possible , and annie was GENERALLY the best conduit for these chats . " they're not so ... formal , should be fun ! it's nice to have an ESCAPE , even if it's only for a few hours . "

she paused , sure that something was forgotten from the invitation . when it occurs to her , she perks up . " OH ! do you guys have any favorite foods ? we can order some . "

"I'll come by." Peeta promised, gave a kind smile, and he was going to try to get Katniss to join him as well.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled again. "A few hours can work wonders, I think." It was a chance to make connections, and it couldn't hurt.

"I know Katniss likes that lamb stew, with dried plums and rice." He liked that as well, even if it did remind him of the arena.

"That is her favorite, and I don't mind whatever you want to serve is alright with me."

Maybe this was all they would ever have. Little moments that meant more than Peeta could ever say. He kept those in his mind, holding onto them like little trinkets.

"I don't mind sharing, Katniss." Peeta managed a smile, that was a little tense, for just a second, but then was fully believable, fully reaching his eyes. "I liked it during the Games.. and I like it now. But we've barely seen each other lately..." And Peeta missed it. Missed what they had had. Missed being all the other had. "I want you to be the one to go home." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, it must have escaped the braid, or maybe just been missed while she braided it.

"Promise me that you'll try. Your sister needs you, your mother needs you... Gale needs you." At the last name, there was a hint of jealousy, but it was blink and miss it, and nothing that lingered.

Katniss flinched, almost imperceptibly, at the mention of Gale’s name. It wasn’t Peeta’s fault—he didn’t know that name was a knot tightening in her chest, not a comfort. Her gaze dropped, lashes casting shadows against her cheeks as her fingers clenched in the hem of her sleeve. Peeta always gave so freely—his steadiness, his care, even his grief. He gave without expecting anything back, and that made it worse. Because she knew she was breaking something tender just by staying silent.

She swallowed hard and lifted her eyes to him. His smile was kind, the kind of kind that made her feel even more like a fraud. Because he believed in her still, even now. “I don’t know if I can promise that,” she said, voice rough. “But I’ll try.” It was the only truth she could offer. She didn’t say she’d do it for Prim or her mother. She didn’t even say it was for herself. She’d try for Peeta—because he asked her with that quiet conviction, because he had never asked her for anything she couldn’t give before. And because, deep down, she didn’t want to imagine a world where she came home and he didn’t.

Peeta watched, and sat silent for a moment, just observing. "Just try. For... for your sister, your mother, and... everyone else." Not necessarily for his sake. He didn't expect to make it home, and even if he did, it would never be the same. Because there would be no Katniss Everdeen there.

And she was the survivor of the two of them. His own mother had said it, and Peeta knew it. Didn't doubt Katniss' survival skills for a second. But Peeta had won by chance, not skill. There was no skill involved, as far as he was concerned, just luck. "We both know that you have a better chance either way. You deserved to win, and you can do it again. Your family needs you."

Peeta's family on the other hand, would likely not care if he never came home.

But Katniss had a family who needed her, and she had to come home.

Peeta looked up, and let out a small sigh, looked at Katniss, still clutching the cup. He was deep in thought, but watched her, studied her, picked at a tiny paintstain on his left hand.

"I wasn't lying." He said, staring down at the cup and its contents again, but he wasn't sure he wanted it anymore. If he had even wanted it at all.

When she asked, Peeta handed it over, without hesitating, slid it across the table, slowly so that nothing spilled. "There's more, we don't have to share. Careful, it's hot."

Katniss accepted the cup slowly, her fingers brushing his for the briefest moment as she took it. His hands were warm, rough from work, and that touch sent a strange flicker through her chest—like something fragile had stirred. She looked down at the cup, then back at him, his earlier words echoing in her head.

“Just checking” she said, quietly, her voice steady but low. “You don't want to share with me?” There were parts of him she was still learning, pieces she didn’t understand yet—but she wanted to. That realization came with a heavy flutter in her chest, heavier than the cup she now held in both hands. “I don’t mind sharing,” she added after a moment, almost shyly. “I think… I like when we do.”

Maybe this was all they would ever have. Little moments that meant more than Peeta could ever say. He kept those in his mind, holding onto them like little trinkets.

"I don't mind sharing, Katniss." Peeta managed a smile, that was a little tense, for just a second, but then was fully believable, fully reaching his eyes. "I liked it during the Games.. and I like it now. But we've barely seen each other lately..." And Peeta missed it. Missed what they had had. Missed being all the other had. "I want you to be the one to go home." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, it must have escaped the braid, or maybe just been missed while she braided it.

"Promise me that you'll try. Your sister needs you, your mother needs you... Gale needs you." At the last name, there was a hint of jealousy, but it was blink and miss it, and nothing that lingered.

Peeta snapped out of it at Katniss' voice, and took a deep breath, staring at the mug of hot chocolate in his hands. It had been too hot to drink, and while waiting for it to cool, he had gotten distracted, staring off at the Capitol below.

It was so full of life it bordered on absurd, still so far from everything District 12 was. Loud. He turned his head to look over at Katniss, fingers still curled tightly around the mug, and the answer was obvious in his pose, and above all, in his eyes. "Yeah. I'm okay." It didn't sound convincing, even to his own ears, but, chances were high that someone overheard, and he didn't dare tell the truth.

He was homesick, wanting to return to District 12 above all, but not entirely sure he ever would.

Katniss didn’t press him—not right away. She watched him instead, her eyes narrowing just slightly as if she could read the truth in the way he clutched that mug, fingers white-knuckled. He looked like he was holding onto something much heavier than cocoa. Katniss took the seat across from him, watching the window as he'd been doing just moments prior.

"I thought you were a better liar than that"

It isn't accusatory, but something to poke at him to pull his attention. Just a few more days and they'd be back in the arena. Her stomach twists when she thinks about it. Katniss isn't sure what will happen, but she knows one thing...Peeta has to go home.

"Feel up to sharing that?" She asks, pointing to the cup. While with anyone else she might just reach across and grab it, Katniss waits for Peeta's permission. Rare, considering most of the time she'd rather ask forgiveness than permission.

Peeta looked up, and let out a small sigh, looked at Katniss, still clutching the cup. He was deep in thought, but watched her, studied her, picked at a tiny paintstain on his left hand.

"I wasn't lying." He said, staring down at the cup and its contents again, but he wasn't sure he wanted it anymore. If he had even wanted it at all.

When she asked, Peeta handed it over, without hesitating, slid it across the table, slowly so that nothing spilled. "There's more, we don't have to share. Careful, it's hot."

"I'm hoping to get there soon." Maybe Peeta never would. But it didn't mean he didn't have the hope to get back some sense of normality, and some sense of himself again. And a full night's sleep.

"I know." But at the same time, a part of Peeta felt ancient, like the games, and everything that followed, had made him an old man.

He wouldn't get attached to his tribute. Wouldn't. Couldn't. Keep it strictly professional, detach from it all. But also make the effort to keep him alive for as long as possible.

" you know , " an immediate offer . perhaps the reason she had come over at all . " we have a FAMILY dinner on our floor most nights , welcome to anyone who's free and wants to . " peeta probably wouldn't need help finding friends , but the same could not be said for his partner .

her body shifts on the sofa , settling in with her legs beneath her comfortably . " the only RULE is that any talk about the games has to stop at the door . probably would be an easier way for you two to connect with everyone . " a more underlying message , of course , came in the promise that the whole bunch could be more HUMAN than they made themselves out to be . why waste a chance at the best time to be with so many people who ACTUALLY understood ?

"I'll come over. Do you have one tonight?" Peeta asked, not sure if Katniss would ever agree to coming over for a dinner. Maybe he could convince her. "I would like to. Get to formally meet everyone." And get advice. Anything he could use to keep it going as smoothly as possible for his first ever mentor year.

"I'll see if Katniss wants to join in, if she doesn't, I'll go alone."

@bakersboywiththebread

Peeta had been quiet since they left the train. Not the kind of quiet that settles between two people who know each other well—comfortable, easy—but the kind that curls in on itself, heavy and laced with something Katniss couldn't name. She kept catching him looking out the window like he was trying to memorize the landscape, like he knew something she didn’t. It made her stomach twist. For all the speeches they were forced to give and the charade they had to keep up, she’d never learned how to ask him the questions that mattered. Not when it counted. But now, with the Capitol drawing closer and the noose tightening around their necks, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She found him in the lounge, hunched over a steaming mug he hadn’t touched. His fingers were curled tightly around the ceramic, knuckles pale. Katniss leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment before crossing the room. “Peeta?” Her voice came out softer than she meant it to. It wasn’t the performance voice or the one she used for speeches—it was just hers. Real. “Are you okay?” She didn’t expect a straight answer. None of them were okay. But she needed to hear it from him, needed to know if he was breaking, too—because if he was, she didn’t know how she’d hold them both together.

Peeta snapped out of it at Katniss' voice, and took a deep breath, staring at the mug of hot chocolate in his hands. It had been too hot to drink, and while waiting for it to cool, he had gotten distracted, staring off at the Capitol below.

It was so full of life it bordered on absurd, still so far from everything District 12 was. Loud. He turned his head to look over at Katniss, fingers still curled tightly around the mug, and the answer was obvious in his pose, and above all, in his eyes. "Yeah. I'm okay." It didn't sound convincing, even to his own ears, but, chances were high that someone overheard, and he didn't dare tell the truth.

He was homesick, wanting to return to District 12 above all, but not entirely sure he ever would.

"It'd be easier if.. if I could have some distance to it all." It haunted Peeta's nights, and it didn't make it any easier to think about that the tribute he would mentor might not make it back home. Likely wouldn't. "Maybe it gets easier over time.. once you get more used to it." But it was always going to be someone he knew. At least by name. "I'm going to try. But I... doubt he has much of a chance, either way."

Peeta sighed. At the end of the day, they were all young. At least at the start.

"The tributes are young too, Annie."

if she wanted to survive , she had to think a little less about the intricacies of how this event worked . " the distance comes with that time , " only HALF TRUE , her distance was still out of reach . maybe it would come some day . " it's not that it gets easier , i think , but maybe you just get more to live for . " the tributes , in her world , had to be left out of the equation to a certain extent . she would CRY for them , always did , but not now . " they're young . so are you . "

what she didn't say , was that sometimes , it would be more ETHICAL to have dead tributes than victors . he would figure that one out on his own . " look , all i'm saying is that i know it's hard . it probably always will be . but if you want to SURVIVE it , you have to fight how badly you'll want to just roll over and stop . it's how you stay you . "

"I'm hoping to get there soon." Maybe Peeta never would. But it didn't mean he didn't have the hope to get back some sense of normality, and some sense of himself again. And a full night's sleep.

"I know." But at the same time, a part of Peeta felt ancient, like the games, and everything that followed, had made him an old man.

He wouldn't get attached to his tribute. Wouldn't. Couldn't. Keep it strictly professional, detach from it all. But also make the effort to keep him alive for as long as possible.

norvstforthvwickvd-blog

Starter for @bakersboywiththebread

The air was cold that morning. Small misty puffs jutted out from Astrid's nose as she sat crouched behind the thick trunk of the oak tree. Her knife at the ready as she followed the long strides of a buck. Dark thick locks framed her face, keeping pale skin hidden in the early morning light. She figured she could get at least one hunt in before the Reaping.

Every year, she feared her life. If not her own, her parents. They had already lost her older brother three years ago, and it nearly destroyed them. If her name got pulled, she feared that would be the final straw for them.

She moved slowly and strategically closer, calculating her steps to not draw attention. The buck lowered its head, nibbling on the dew soaked leaves. Astrid took her aim, throwing the knife directly towards its head. The animal fell with a satisfying thud. "Bullseye." She mumbled to herself.

After securing the buck with twine and hauling it up over her shoulders, she headed back to District 12. Surely, this would be enough to get something to feed her family.

It was still quiet when she entered. Everyone dreading the upcoming event that would ultimately decide the fate of two children for the Capitol's entertainment.

The smell of fresh bread hit her nose as she passed the bakery. Her stomach growled, but she kept walking.

norvstforthvwickvd-blog

Astrid was surprised at Peeta's statement. She wasn't expecting him to go along with Haymitch's first idea that he had on the train to which her and Peeta had said no. Did they have another conversation that Astrid didn't know about? Her heart was racing as Peeta finished his interview, her back against the wall as she tried to breathe. Why was she freaking out right now?

When he came backstage, she looked at him, a little bewildered, her mouth opened and closed like a fish, not knowing what to say or if she should even say anything. So, all she did was nod at him and blinked. For some reason, 'just an act' didn't sit well with her.

-

Today was the day. Today was the beginning of the games. Cinna had dressed her in survival gear. A thick jacket, cargo pants, heavy combat boots to help her trudge through the arena. They still didn't know what the arena was going to look like. It could look like anything. Haymitch led both of them to the platforms, his face a mix of nervousness and anger. He hated doing this. They were just children. He remembered his games, and it only made him angrier for Peeta and Astrid. "You guys got this, okay?" Haymitch tells him, sounding like an encouraging dad.

#norvstforthvwickvd #Muse: Peeta Mellark

Far as Peeta was concerned, Astrid had a decent chance. There was only one victor, and Peeta hoped it'd be Astrid. Wanted it to be.

"Be careful, okay?" Peeta whispered, and walked up to his platform. The clothes were a good fit, if something he wasn't used to. Durable, sturdy, and Portia had explained that the jacket reflected body heat, which made Peeta suspect that it was likely to be cold at some point.

He looked at Astrid, took a deep breath. "You can win this."

"He is one of my neighbours. I have time." Peeta shrugged. He brought bread over to Haymitch when he got the chance. Some days, Haymitch actually ate it, other days he didn't.

"I have no doubt he is. Can't say I know too much about him, but to win at fourteen is something else." Peeta had won by chance, at least it felt that way. He hadn't contributed much to their victory.

"I barely know what I'm supposed to do."

sometimes , annie wished the victors might all live closer . it would be nice to interact outside of such STRESSFUL times , the victors village of district four was proof enough of the need for COMMUNITY . nine victors lined their neighborhood -- almost made it feel like it was all a real home . POOR HAYMITCH .

" oh , he is something else . " her words are said with a tad too much REVERENCE for her mentor . then again , who didn't fall a little bit in LOVE with him ? " none of us do . this year , just try to make it through , yeah ? they almost never let a district win twice in a row , so there's no use working yourself dry . " annie suggested , tone gentle with care . it was CALLOUSED advice , regurgitated by almost everyone who had ever been in her shoes . " finn told me that my first year was only to make friends , even if we can only talk over the phone . he was BARELY older than you when he mentored me . still too young. "

"It'd be easier if.. if I could have some distance to it all." It haunted Peeta's nights, and it didn't make it any easier to think about that the tribute he would mentor might not make it back home. Likely wouldn't. "Maybe it gets easier over time.. once you get more used to it." But it was always going to be someone he knew. At least by name. "I'm going to try. But I... doubt he has much of a chance, either way."

Peeta sighed. At the end of the day, they were all young. At least at the start.

"The tributes are young too, Annie."

The words were a relief, but the choice of words still stung a bit. Did. Of course, realistically, he knew it had all, likely, been an act, because it was what the Games were. But there was a difference between what was real, and what he wanted. Wanted so badly, that if asked, Peeta was willing to sacrifice everything he was, and had, if it meant keeping Katniss safe.

"Did?" He repeated, almost echoing her words. "I understand if you don't. Not anymore, and.. it's okay." The Games had changed everything for both of them, he knew that. Taken so much, but also changed them as people. And still, Peeta loved her. If that was all he would get, from a distance, he was okay with it.

"They won't just let us forget it, you know that, right?"

2birds1song

"no, peeta..." and there she went internally grimacing, scolding herself for being so bad with words. unlike him. and katniss was envious of it. "i'm not good at wording things," she tries to claim, even if it's partially true. she really didn't know how to word it... but most of all– she couldn't afford to say things like that, feel like that, it was too dangerous and another part of her was scared by it. to allow what she felt for peeta in and to completely consume her, it was like she felt it but was holding the dam back.

but it hurt to also act like she doesn't have love in her heart for him, too. her brain racked for ways to not lead him on but to also somehow say it without saying it. then she thought about the games and how they BOTH had made it out alive. "it was important to me that you came home with me, wasn't it?" katniss points out, wondering if it's a feeble attempt. then softly answers his next question, "i know."

"It felt real." Probably because he wanted to believe it. "Katniss. You don't have to be good at wording things. You really don't."

He knew that it was likely to never be ghe same, and maybe it had been foolish, or naive to allow himself to believe it was real. But it had, either way, felt genuine.

"I didn't exactly do much to make sure we both got home. That was all you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here right now, and we both know that. I can never thank you enough for that. Even if you don't, I'll ... always, have some kind of ... feelings for you." But only from a distance. It would have to be that way.

#2birds1song

mccklynaive-a

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ starter for // & @bakersboywiththebread ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ though it was the same every year , she still had a knot in her stomach any time she would wake up on reaping day . it did not matter the weather , it was like a grey cloud would always shroud the day in sorrow & despair , since two of her fellow peers would have to sacrifice themselves for the good of the district , to remind them of the consequences of that fateful period in history that they are still paying for in lives lost & blood shed . Valerie knows how at risk she is too , due to the amount of times she would put her name in , to gain extra resources for those that needed them ; she was not foolish enough to believe it was a good chance that she would be called next . however , due to her years of being kept secluded , kept away from the world & under the control of her family , was this really that bad ? her only opportunity to really be out within the district was this day , due to it being mandatory . it was not about keeping her safe from the horrors of it all , it was about control .

she arrives at the town square , going to get in line to sign in & show she is present . before she is able to disassociate from it all & shut down , she catches a glimpse of him ; peeta . she has seen him a few times , though she is not sure he knows of her , though that is fine ; she is not the best with interacting with people . she offers a soft smile , the best she can muster ; was it for her sake of his , she didn't know . ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡