Peeta Mellark (
ourshinycity) wrote2011-11-10 01:22 am
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katniss | and there were dirigibles (we were happier then)
No matter how strange and somewhat awkward things got between himself and Katniss, Peeta still couldn't help but worry about her. She had been through a rough time and even though they've been here for over a year, their lives hadn't been made up of the sorts of things that could be so easily recovered from. Just because he had told her that he didn't want to hear about the terrible things that had happened to him, to the mess that he apparently become didn't mean that he didn't care about her. It was uncomfortable, but that wasn't likely to change.
With a sketch book under his arm and a couple of pencils tucked behind each of his ears, he took off in search of Katniss' hut. He wasn't certain where he would find her, but he hoped that she would stay in one place long enough for him to find her. He was glad that she didn't live all the way out in the middle of nowhere like she could, but it still took some time to get there.
Standing outside her hut, he took a deep breath wondering why he felt a twinge of nervousness. It was probably just a side-effect of the mess of their lives. Knocking on her door, he stepped back.
"Katniss? Are you home?"
With a sketch book under his arm and a couple of pencils tucked behind each of his ears, he took off in search of Katniss' hut. He wasn't certain where he would find her, but he hoped that she would stay in one place long enough for him to find her. He was glad that she didn't live all the way out in the middle of nowhere like she could, but it still took some time to get there.
Standing outside her hut, he took a deep breath wondering why he felt a twinge of nervousness. It was probably just a side-effect of the mess of their lives. Knocking on her door, he stepped back.
"Katniss? Are you home?"
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The cat smells him before she can see him, and goes bounding off. Katniss doesn't follow, assuming that it's just Buttercup being...Buttercup, but as she pushes back the last bits of brush she sees Peeta standing there. With the cat nuzzling his legs. Probably because he looks like Prim, she thinks to herself, moving closer.
"He likes you better than me," Katniss remarks as she opens the door to her hut, biting down on her bottom lip as she holds it ajar - a silent invitation for Peeta to come in. The sketchbook and pencils had told her all that she needed to know, but it still couldn't stop the guilt and the rapid beating of her heart that begun every time she saw him. Despite her best attempts to shut herself off from all emotion, anything that reminded her of home provided a maelstrom of them, and Peeta more than anything.
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Crouching down he scratched behind the ears of the cat, dividing his gaze between both the animal and her. "I guess I just have that way with animals," he said with a slight shrug trying to not read much into what that would mean. Perhaps that cat was just curious or confused. It didn't matter.
"Did I catch you at a bad time?"
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"Not at all," she says quickly in response to his question. "Come in," the hut - more like a treehouse than anything else, is small, but it's all she needs for the few hours that she is able to sleep. Katniss sets her things down on the floor inside at turns to face him, hands slipping into the pockets of her baggy pants.
"...Hi."
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But he didn't like to talk about that stuff all that much. It was still too closely tied to the Games and to the Capitol. There was too much baggage hanging around with that skill. Animals were just easier to think about it. Following her inside, he glanced quickly around the room before his gaze settled on her.
"Hi." Lifting his sketchpad he shrugged. "I just thought maybe we could brainstorm for the book. I had some free time and it seemed like a good thing to get started on."
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Fine. Whatever. Trying to change it now would only look worse. Though she does draw the blinds open because it's so dark that she can't see his face. "It's a good idea," Katniss nods, and sits cross legged on her bed for lack of any other furniture in her room at all. "How...do you want to do this?"
It'd be easier if Peeta knew about Finnick, and District 13, and Boggs. What she tells him has to be carefully censored, because he's already told her that he didn't want to know. There was no chance of letting something slip like last time.
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He looked around for a place to sit, but when none immediately sprang to mind he settled himself against a wall where the light was better than it was in the middle of the room.
"You can describe things, what you want to remember. People, things, and I'll sketch it. See what I can do with what I know. How does that sound?"