Based on some discussions around Katniss’s hair Post war (check the end for more)
Her hair is driving her mad.
A couple months prior she’d had the urge to chop it all off, the hair coming in uneven in a way that made it frustrating to manage. So she’d recruited Peeta and watched in the mirror as he trimmed a straight line all the way round, at the length of the shortest piece, just below her earlobe. Flavius would have fainted, but it had done the trick at the time. Her head had felt lighter and as Peeta ran his fingers through the short strands to check his work, her heart had felt a little lighter too.
But now she’s beginning to regret the decision.
In the last several weeks, the hair has grown too long to stay tucked under her cap when she hunts, and yet still too short to stay tied back. The wisps that escape are endlessly tedious, falling over her eyes or sticking to her neck in the late summer heat.
She scowls into the mirror, contemplating scissors or even sheers at this point, when the image of small pigtails at the end of two blond braids pops into her head. She feels a pang at the memory of her mother teaching her to braid with her sister’s tiny tresses. She anticipates the wave of melancholy that usually crashes over her when thoughts of Prim catch her off guard. Instead, the pain is subdued by the memory of the pride she had felt at her first, though crooked, plaits and the shared joy of her parents and sister at her success.
The yellow rays of sunrise filter through the bathroom curtains as she parts her hair down the middle, making quick work of the wet locks. Satisfied with her work, she secures the ends and leaves for the woods.
~~~
Peeta is in the kitchen when she returns later that day with her bag full of chamomile, lavender, and ginger.
He greets her as normal, but as she organizes her haul, she can’t help noticing how his eyes flit towards her, even more than they usually do and the smile that grows with each glance.
“What?” She says, unable to stop herself from smiling along with him, despite not knowing his reasoning.
He shrugs, “you braided your hair.”
“Oh,” Her hand flies to the back of her head, suddenly self conscious of the two short tufts at the nape of her neck. She’d forgotten about them completely until now; she supposed that’s a good thing, “yeah.”
“I like it.”
“Me too,” she says, her smile widening.
Also check out:
Short hair Katniss sketches By @buggiebite
Katniss with short hair art and meta here and here by @charlunday
