April Showers Prompt 2: Your Tell is in Your Eyes (The Hunger Games)
Title: Your Tell is in Your Eyes
Author: lunar47
Prompt: April Showers Prompt 2
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Peeta/Katniss
Genre: Gen mostly
Rating & Warnings: PG (assumes you've read all 3 books)
Word Count: 760
Summary: Peeta and Katniss spend a free afternoon in the meadow. Occurs before the epilogue of Mockingjay.
With the hunting done and the bread sold for the day, Katniss and Peeta take advantage of a lull in the afternoon. They walk side by side, their arms brushing lightly with each step. Hand holding is too intimate an act at this stage. But it will come, in time.
Their destination is the meadow just past the Seam and her old house. Once a mass grave for the lost citizens of District 12, it’s now a tribute to how life goes on. They sit on the lush grass and attempt to enjoy their brief respite.
Peeta lies on his side, his head propped up by his arm. He’s sketching her profile with colored chalk. She notices that he only draws in color these days. Perhaps the dark charcoal holds too many associations with their past, the drab lifelessness that dominated the Seam and the dark void of the arena.
She fidgets slightly under his gaze and reaches to pull a wildflower from the ground. It’s small and yellow with delicate petals. It reminds her of little Rue, so nimble and slight but strong of heart. She pulls another and daisy chains them together. She’s mostly doing it to keep her hands busy but her mind wanders. She reluctantly acknowledges that this would be something that Prim might enjoy, had they the luxury of spending the day lazing about in a field.
But Prim will never get to experience this freedom. The thought brings tears to her eyes and she clenches her jaw to keep them from falling. Her eyes flicker briefly to Peeta and she knows that he’s seen her vulnerability. Embarrassment at her weakness sets in and she turns her face away from his. He startles her though when he puts aside his drawing and moves to sit beside her. Hesitantly, he reaches for the hand in her lap. He runs his thumb along the smooth olive backside, noting their difference in color. Her palms are callused from hard work but he doesn’t mind. She doesn’t seem to either.
He pulls away and the rush of cool air between them makes her turn her head. Peeta picks up her forgotten flower chain and makes the last knot to close it into a wreath. He pulls out her hair tie and fans her long dark tresses around her shoulders. He places the wreath gently on her head and she feels her tears finally fall. With infinite softness he brushes them away.
It’s too much too soon. He’s too close. Her body trembles and he seems to recognize her discomfort.
“Just like that,” he moves back to a safe distance and picks up his sketch. “Tilt your head up just a bit and don’t move. That’s important.”
She does as he says, relieved by their return to the status quo. The sun beats down from high in the sky, making her sleepy.
“Doesn’t it bother you that we’re essentially sitting on all our dead family and friends?”
“Not really. They’re gone but we will always remember them. Their bodies just serve to fertilize the soil. Life begins anew from them.”
“You’re always so damn optimistic. It’s annoying sometimes.”
“Maybe you should try it,” he replies absentmindedly, his focus on the paper before him. “I saw a little of that in you a moment ago.”
“What do you mean?” her brow furrows and she turns to face him not really caring about his prior instructions to remain still.
His hands pause and he looks up, “That hardened exterior of yours is breaking. You needed it for the Games but here, now, you can let it go. If only slightly.” The last bit he says with a smile.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She represses a smirk and removes the flower wreath from her head. Retrieving the tie she pulls her hair back from her face.
“Are you done with that drawing yet or are we going to be out here all day?”
Peeta nods his head and closes his sketch book. He stands and holds his hand to pull her up but she declines. They walk back to the Victor’s Village in silence.
Before parting ways to go to their respective houses he gently tears the sketch from his book and hands it to her. “You’re changing Katniss. You don’t have to be afraid of that.”
She won’t admit that she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And that she can see it in his picture, clear as day. She folds it up and places it in her drawer.
Author: lunar47
Prompt: April Showers Prompt 2
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Peeta/Katniss
Genre: Gen mostly
Rating & Warnings: PG (assumes you've read all 3 books)
Word Count: 760
Summary: Peeta and Katniss spend a free afternoon in the meadow. Occurs before the epilogue of Mockingjay.
With the hunting done and the bread sold for the day, Katniss and Peeta take advantage of a lull in the afternoon. They walk side by side, their arms brushing lightly with each step. Hand holding is too intimate an act at this stage. But it will come, in time.
Their destination is the meadow just past the Seam and her old house. Once a mass grave for the lost citizens of District 12, it’s now a tribute to how life goes on. They sit on the lush grass and attempt to enjoy their brief respite.
Peeta lies on his side, his head propped up by his arm. He’s sketching her profile with colored chalk. She notices that he only draws in color these days. Perhaps the dark charcoal holds too many associations with their past, the drab lifelessness that dominated the Seam and the dark void of the arena.
She fidgets slightly under his gaze and reaches to pull a wildflower from the ground. It’s small and yellow with delicate petals. It reminds her of little Rue, so nimble and slight but strong of heart. She pulls another and daisy chains them together. She’s mostly doing it to keep her hands busy but her mind wanders. She reluctantly acknowledges that this would be something that Prim might enjoy, had they the luxury of spending the day lazing about in a field.
But Prim will never get to experience this freedom. The thought brings tears to her eyes and she clenches her jaw to keep them from falling. Her eyes flicker briefly to Peeta and she knows that he’s seen her vulnerability. Embarrassment at her weakness sets in and she turns her face away from his. He startles her though when he puts aside his drawing and moves to sit beside her. Hesitantly, he reaches for the hand in her lap. He runs his thumb along the smooth olive backside, noting their difference in color. Her palms are callused from hard work but he doesn’t mind. She doesn’t seem to either.
He pulls away and the rush of cool air between them makes her turn her head. Peeta picks up her forgotten flower chain and makes the last knot to close it into a wreath. He pulls out her hair tie and fans her long dark tresses around her shoulders. He places the wreath gently on her head and she feels her tears finally fall. With infinite softness he brushes them away.
It’s too much too soon. He’s too close. Her body trembles and he seems to recognize her discomfort.
“Just like that,” he moves back to a safe distance and picks up his sketch. “Tilt your head up just a bit and don’t move. That’s important.”
She does as he says, relieved by their return to the status quo. The sun beats down from high in the sky, making her sleepy.
“Doesn’t it bother you that we’re essentially sitting on all our dead family and friends?”
“Not really. They’re gone but we will always remember them. Their bodies just serve to fertilize the soil. Life begins anew from them.”
“You’re always so damn optimistic. It’s annoying sometimes.”
“Maybe you should try it,” he replies absentmindedly, his focus on the paper before him. “I saw a little of that in you a moment ago.”
“What do you mean?” her brow furrows and she turns to face him not really caring about his prior instructions to remain still.
His hands pause and he looks up, “That hardened exterior of yours is breaking. You needed it for the Games but here, now, you can let it go. If only slightly.” The last bit he says with a smile.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She represses a smirk and removes the flower wreath from her head. Retrieving the tie she pulls her hair back from her face.
“Are you done with that drawing yet or are we going to be out here all day?”
Peeta nods his head and closes his sketch book. He stands and holds his hand to pull her up but she declines. They walk back to the Victor’s Village in silence.
Before parting ways to go to their respective houses he gently tears the sketch from his book and hands it to her. “You’re changing Katniss. You don’t have to be afraid of that.”
She won’t admit that she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And that she can see it in his picture, clear as day. She folds it up and places it in her drawer.