A/N So this is my first Everlark story and I'm a little nervous! I don't own the Hunger Games.
She was going to be late. That much Katniss knew. Her fear was confirmed as she scrambled into class and everyone was there. Except for their professor, a drunkard named Haymitch. In his place was a pale lady with a . . . eccentric sense of fashion. She was wearing a sky blue wig, platform heels, and a feathery purple dress that reached mid-thigh. A far cry from Katniss' short leather boots, jeans, and red sweater.
"Oh hello! I'm the sub, Miss Trinket. You must be Katniss. The only spot left is next to Mister Mellark. Go on." Miss Trinket shooed Katniss to the seat. She quickly sat down next to the blonde haired boy she always observed during class. Years ago when her family was in poverty, she remembered him as the boy who gave them an incredible discount on all items in his family's bakery. Luckily after her mom overcame depression, Katniss' family quickly bounced back and now owned a successful clinic.
"Today everyone shall write a poem about their seat partner. There must be references to both their personality and appearance. Use any style you like but please put some flair in it!" Miss Trinket exclaimed before sitting down behind the desk in front of the room. Katniss got out her notebook and looked hard at Peeta. It took seconds before the typical rush of words flowed into her mind and onto the paper. Normally Katniss writes about scenery, people were much too personal. They couldn't be categorized by labels like dark, cozy, or comforting. Humans were constantly changing and never stayed true to themselves. They were unreliable and unstable. Forgetting her usual writing style, Katniss finished up her poem.
"Once you have finished please switch poems with your partner." Miss Trinket called out happily form where she was filing her nail.
"I finished. Are you ready to switch?" Peeta asked, his eyes wide and doe-like. 'No I'm never ready for you to read this or anything I write' Katniss internally screamed but instead wordlessly passed her poem over. Peeta did the same and the next few minutes were spent reading.
"Do you really think that about me?" Peeta exhaled slowly.
"Do you think that about me?" Katniss shot back with a faint blush dusting her cheeks.
"Yeah." Peeta finally admitted.
"I'm not one for cutesy couple things. I won't hold your hand when I'm scared." Katniss told him.
"I know."
"Forget about me cooking. The last time I did laundry I nearly flooded my apartment with suds."
"Let me be your maid and cook."
"I have a lot of baggage."
"I can carry it. I'm a strong boy."
The two shared a small smile and laced hands together.
"Class dismissed." Miss Trinket shot up from her desk and wobbled to the door. Long after all the other students left and Katniss and Peeta made plans to meet up at the local park, two identical sheets of paper were side by side on two desks. One was in tight print, the other in a sprawling cursive.
Two poems of love.