Continued from here because tumblr sucks ahem @diamondpressed
Cashmere feigns disappointment over not being able to see Katniss, but Peeta just keeps his congenial smile. Or maybe it's not pretend for Cashmere, he's not sure. He just knows it's incredibly dramatic. Then again, he's met a lot of victors tonight (and a handful of choice ones at his wedding) and they're all a bit dramatic in their own ways. Playing the Games still, he guesses. It's what Haymitch had warned them about - they would have to be forever this version of themselves each year at the Capitol.
Peeta hums in almost monotone compliance at her statements. Romantic. Not exactly the word he would've chosen for his and Katniss' love story, considering it began with deception and blood and death, but he can't exactly say that here. He shrugs instead and skirts around agreeing with her outright. "Well," he says, keeping his voice light. "We did know one another before getting reaped, so I wouldn't say it was our first meeting. Definitely the most memorable one, however."
He watches her carefully as she takes a drink of whatever is in the glass, eyes moving subtly around her body to check for anything that might happen because of it. Surely, she wouldn't just throw up right here in the middle of Ceasar Flickerman's den if it was one of those kind of drinks. Nothing seems to happen, though, and he guesses he's probably safe to drink it too. Unless she's drugging him.
Having watched her Games and being a witness to her betrayal of her own district partner, he wouldn't put it past her.
"That's what they always say," he muses easily, another non-agreement to her words about fun. The air shifts when she talks about being young, however. Is this her way of being gentle with him? He's not exactly fond of what he knows about her, but that could just be his general distaste for a lot of the Careers. He'd spent days with own Career-pack, after all - and while he can logically understand they were made to be like that because of the Capitol's control, it doesn't necessarily mean he likes them. Cashmere is no different.
He finally takes a sip of the drink because she seems coherent enough still and hopes it'll suffice in making her not underestimate him. Then again, most people do, so that wouldn't be anything he's not used to navigating.
It's not until she brings up art that Peeta's interest peaks and he focuses in on her more closely. "You're an artist?" he asks. "What do you do?" He doesn't have many people he can talk art with. Twelve has very few pretty things to offer and, here in the Capitol, people just want his stuff because of who he is, not what he's done.
"Still getting used to it," he replies, this question easier because he's being honest. "It's different, having fame like this. But Katniss and I manage it well. As long as we have each other, it'll be okay." Alright, so he has to add the ending for the show. Though, really, that part has a bit of honesty in itself too.
