hijackedbread: (tense at best)
It was cold and quiet, brisk in the autumn morning bordering on winter. The leaves crunched beneath Peeta's boots as he made his way over to the other house. District 12 was destroyed. Only two houses in the Victor's Village remained - Haymitch's and Katniss's. That's why he was rooming with Haymitch for the time being, while reconstruction was going on in the rest of the District.

The tribute tugged his jacket more tightly around himself before sliding his right hand into his pocket. His fingers found the length of rope there, running over each bump and curve as a way to ground himself. Katniss and I were Victors in the Hunger Games. Curve. The Victors were trying to save us. Twist. There was a rebellion. Knot.

He reached the frayed end just as he arrived at Katniss' door, withdrawing his right hand to knock lightly. It was early enough that most people - Haymitch included - were asleep, but he had a feeling Katniss would be leaving to go hunting soon. His left hand toted a small sack of baked goods, cheeses, and a few other things to keep her. They were never starved, but the bread was fresh and Effie had sent the cheese - along with a number of inedible Capitol delicacies - to the three of them.

"Katniss?" He felt anxious. The way he always did around her. His mind was still running through tools he had learned to re-familiarize himself with her face before he saw her, a way to reduce the risk of forgetting what's real.
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Katniss Everdeen

December 2014

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