The feel of her fingers on his side almost sends him over the edge. Fortunately, she withdraws a moment later and he's able to drop his shirt and let his fingers splay out at his sides. Peeta focuses on his breathing, then flexes his hands, fist to fan and again. He looks at her, his expression suddenly distant, as if he doesn't quite know who she is or what he's doing here. Tentative.
"I'll be fine." An echo of something he's already said. It's easier to repeat than to think of something new. But it seems unsatisfactory and the way she looks at him makes the tribute realize as much. Instead of focusing, he blurts out the first thing he can think of: "Prim is dead. Real or not real?"
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momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2014-12-01 06:45 am (UTC)"I'll be fine." An echo of something he's already said. It's easier to repeat than to think of something new. But it seems unsatisfactory and the way she looks at him makes the tribute realize as much. Instead of focusing, he blurts out the first thing he can think of: "Prim is dead. Real or not real?"