Muse [Closed RP w/ seagreenanemone & double-knotted-shoelace]
One year. One long, brutal, lonely year. It was hard to believe, hard to accept even, but the date etched into the stone just confirmed what Peeta knew to be true. It had been a year since Katniss’ death. At least once a week that whole year, Peeta had been coming to the graveyard to this very spot, the small plot stuck in a crowded, poorer area off in the corner. It had been all he could afford, after selling their small house for a tiny, one room apartment, most of their things, and getting a small loan from his brothers. This was all he really had left now. A plot and rock with his wife’s name on it.
The grey sky reflected Peeta’s mood almost perfectly. A few wildflowers were all he was able to get, placing them down on the stone right beside Katniss’ name. From there, his fingers traced the lettering for probably the millionth time, trying to pretend somehow that he was touching her and not just a dead slab of marble. It was no use though. He felt just as cold inside as the stone.
Sighing heavily, Peeta ran a hand over his face next, trying to keep himself together. It was getting harder and harder every day. Sometimes, he couldn’t even do it, stayed locked away in his tiny room trying to numb the pain any way he could think of. Sometimes, all he could do was let the pain take him. All the rest of his small time was dedicated to work, to keep himself going though it seemed pointless at times. Odd jobs, construction, painting homes and signs. Anything to keep him going and put a few dollars in his pocket.
But somehow, Peeta always ended up here, standing beside Katniss and wishing somehow, he could bring her back or even just hear her voice once more. Instead, he ended up feeling even more alone, longing for something he’d never have. But there was always...
Sighing and pushing the ragged, unkempt hair away from his face, his eyes turned to find her, that same woman, wearing all dark grey, standing just down the row from him. She always was the same way, head bowed, standing in silent mourning, and disappearing when Peeta looked away. He had noticed her about two months prior, and since then, he always saw the strange silent woman whenever he visited Katniss.
Wiping his face, finally Peeta was at a breaking point. This woman was haunting him, clearly, and all he wanted was just to mourn in peace. As much as this woman had ended up being a filter for his muse, the symbol for his loneliness and mourning and loss, he had to talk to her, get some answers. He had to face her. The strange, mad woman who stood in morning confronted by the strange, mad man who was drowning in his loneliness.
Walking towards her, Peeta approached cautiously, but with determination. “Excuse me... miss? Can I, uh... Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, trying to be courteous at the very least. Though his voice came out as a slight croak from lack of use, he at least had done something, approached her and spoke.
