When the door opens, Peeta -- blonde hair going every which way, expression haggard, and only half dressed, with sheet-creased skin -- is already three or four steps inside before he realizes where he is
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There's a look over toward the woman addressing him, as he's reaching for the shirt a little more hastily even. "Aside from not expecting Milliways to take over my bathroom, yes."
"Ah. At least my door doesn't move around on me, true enough."
Instead of walking a little closer to the boy, Sallie steps behind the bar and starts to get her things together for manning this particular station for a bit.
Longer than an hour or two's sleep, where all the rest accrued wasn't eradicated by horrific, panic inducing dreams, that were still more memory than nightmare?
Peeta's brow furrowed, arms and head finally free again, so that he could see her moving stuff around on the other side of the Bar. "What are you doing?"
Sure, he'd seen Rachel behind it that one time, but every other time the thing was always devoid of people. Doing it's strange, magical appearing, disappearing act.
"The tone is a little unappreciated, son. Just 'cause Bar can handle things on her own don't mean that it isn't helpful for her to have folk like me watching out for her - giving her a break."
Even if apology was going to be thinner than it might be at any other time. He hadn't asked to come to the bar, tonight, right on the heels of his own hell, or on any night or day ever, nor to continue having things change when he didn't know what they were supposed to be like to begin with here.
"I've only seen one other person working in this place since it appeared."
"Harder to forget that at the beginning, when everything keeps throwing it in your face," Peeta offered, with a congenially warm, if honest, smile. He reached up and tried to flatten his bed-mussed hair.
(It wouldn't work at all. But it was something.)
"I'm Peeta. New by a few weeks. If that wasn't painfully obvious now."
He doesn't stiffen (he's been on too many camera's for too long since discovering Katniss's lie, and he's been waiting for Milliways to reveal its connections to the Capitol) but his blue eyes narrowed, just enough.
"I know you're covering her room. I met her day before yesterday, and..." Sallie coughs to clear her throat. "I just. I'm Barman - so I try to look after folk. And since you're the only one she mentioned bein' here from Panem...
"You needed to know. And I needed to lay eyes on you."
"She can have anything she wants." Which is not what she needs, and his expression even admits to that. More than perhaps a sixteen year old's should in any way. But there is only so much Peeta can physically grant her.
And he owes her many things, including his life, and to himself, hers.
At least making it go on as understanding. "Barman is your name? Or title?" The Bar was named Bar, after all. So it was safer to check these things.
"Title. Name's Sallie Reynolds. And -- Are you a relation of hers? I've offered to...
"Well. I almost don't know what happened. I was plannin' out my Christmas holiday in my head, and then I met her, here by herself. I just...didn't seem right. So I wanted to know if -- if you were a relation."
Peeta's pretty sure if you just looked at them, you could answer that question. Their coloring, their vocations. But then....Gale was Katniss's cousin now. Which was the worst though to come up then. At least they looked alike, even they were the further thing from related.
His words had paused, changed, uncomfortably. "But she might as well be. If she's here," After what happened. After what they'd all been through. "I can't pretend she isn't and not do whatever I can to help her here, while I'm here, or in any fashion I can when I'm not here."
He barely knew her. And yet they had more in common than he had with any of the people he'd once called his friends. Everyone save Katniss. Everything was complicated now.
Sallie steps out of the staff wing, and it's rather hard to miss the shirtless boy pulling on some shoes.
"Hello. You alright?"
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At least his upper body was all still his.
There's a look over toward the woman addressing him, as he's reaching for the shirt a little more hastily even. "Aside from not expecting Milliways to take over my bathroom, yes."
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Instead of walking a little closer to the boy, Sallie steps behind the bar and starts to get her things together for manning this particular station for a bit.
"Needin' anything 'sides clothes?"
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Peeta's brow furrowed, arms and head finally free again, so that he could see her moving stuff around on the other side of the Bar. "What are you doing?"
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"Gettin' ready for work, son. What's it look like?"
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The her is still a little hesitant about the Bar.
Sure, he'd seen Rachel behind it that one time, but every other time the thing was always devoid of people. Doing it's strange, magical appearing, disappearing act.
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Even if apology was going to be thinner than it might be at any other time. He hadn't asked to come to the bar, tonight, right on the heels of his own hell, or on any night or day ever, nor to continue having things change when he didn't know what they were supposed to be like to begin with here.
"I've only seen one other person working in this place since it appeared."
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(It wouldn't work at all. But it was something.)
"I'm Peeta. New by a few weeks. If that wasn't painfully obvious now."
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"Peeta Mellark. Panem."
To confirm.
But it would make sense.
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"Yes."
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Sallie figures that's all she needs to say.
"I know you're covering her room. I met her day before yesterday, and..." Sallie coughs to clear her throat. "I just. I'm Barman - so I try to look after folk. And since you're the only one she mentioned bein' here from Panem...
"You needed to know. And I needed to lay eyes on you."
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And he owes her many things, including his life, and to himself, hers.
At least making it go on as understanding. "Barman is your name? Or title?"
The Bar was named Bar, after all. So it was safer to check these things.
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"Well. I almost don't know what happened. I was plannin' out my Christmas holiday in my head, and then I met her, here by herself. I just...didn't seem right. So I wanted to know if -- if you were a relation."
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Peeta's pretty sure if you just looked at them, you could answer that question. Their coloring, their vocations. But then....Gale was Katniss's cousin now. Which was the worst though to come up then. At least they looked alike, even they were the further thing from related.
His words had paused, changed, uncomfortably. "But she might as well be. If she's here," After what happened. After what they'd all been through. "I can't pretend she isn't and not do whatever I can to help her here, while I'm here, or in any fashion I can when I'm not here."
He barely knew her. And yet they had more in common than he had with any of the people he'd once called his friends. Everyone save Katniss. Everything was complicated now.
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