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Jun. 9th, 2012 08:59 pmHe had failed.
Even if he couldn't control who stayed or went, Peeta couldn't help but feel as if he had failed. He had told Prim that she was safe, that he wouldn't let anything happen to her and now she was gone. How could be anything but a failure?
This type of loss, the disappearing in the middle of the night variety, wasn't new for him. He had lost plenty of people during his time here. But this was worse. He knew what was in store for Prim. He knew where she would go and what was waiting for her. There should have been something for him to do. Some way to make her stay.
Keeping moving helped. He had been avoiding spending any time longer than necessary in the boarding house, filling his days to the brim. That was what had brought him down the path towards Lucy's hut, having asked for directions to where she lived (or gleaned it from just being on the island for long enough -- he wasn't certain which was more true).
Tapping on the door, he waited for her to answer. He wasn't certain what he was going to do when she did (if she did) but he had a handful of ideas running through his head. Even if they failed he had a feeling that at the very least she would get where he was coming from.
He had failed, but he hadn't stopped moving yet. "Lucy?" he asked, clearing his throat. "It's me, Peeta. Have you got a minute?"
Even if he couldn't control who stayed or went, Peeta couldn't help but feel as if he had failed. He had told Prim that she was safe, that he wouldn't let anything happen to her and now she was gone. How could be anything but a failure?
This type of loss, the disappearing in the middle of the night variety, wasn't new for him. He had lost plenty of people during his time here. But this was worse. He knew what was in store for Prim. He knew where she would go and what was waiting for her. There should have been something for him to do. Some way to make her stay.
Keeping moving helped. He had been avoiding spending any time longer than necessary in the boarding house, filling his days to the brim. That was what had brought him down the path towards Lucy's hut, having asked for directions to where she lived (or gleaned it from just being on the island for long enough -- he wasn't certain which was more true).
Tapping on the door, he waited for her to answer. He wasn't certain what he was going to do when she did (if she did) but he had a handful of ideas running through his head. Even if they failed he had a feeling that at the very least she would get where he was coming from.
He had failed, but he hadn't stopped moving yet. "Lucy?" he asked, clearing his throat. "It's me, Peeta. Have you got a minute?"
