Hey guys! I was just listening to Paramore's 'The Only Exception' (in love with that song) and I was like – this is so about Katniss and Peeta! (Props for mixing brilliant thoughtful emotional song with fictional characters) and I felt the need to write this.
Tucked in my safe house, my warm, strong shelter from the burning bombs which threaten to destroy me each day.
It helps that my shelter is also pretty handsome and a generally amazing person.
Peeta Mellark never fails to astonish me.
So why can't I tell him this?
He looks so much different asleep. Awake his eyes carry the tale of a man who has seen the deepest, darkest and most morbid horrors, asleep he still looks like the nervous, lovesick sixteen year old boy he was when we were reaped and this started. His permanently (much to Effie's annoyance) messy, honey blonde waves fall down to his strong jaw. His abnormally long eyelashes golden in the morning light. My face pressed against his muscular chest; warm, strong arms wrapped around my waist; my slim olive legs and his larger pale ones tangled in the one knot I never want to unravel. He's so flawless and I will never deserve him.
His bright azure eyes blink sleepily and look half dazed – until he winks upon catching me staring at him. Ass. His soft lips press against mine for a too short second before he asks against my lips "Breakfast?"
I never thought I'd have this. I was never the girl who dreamed of meeting a handsome man and running off, living happily ever after. I may have had a maternal instinct towards Prim- when it comes to babies I'd just rather not; I never fantasied about my dream wedding – I had nightmares about it.
It's weird to think that, that obstinate girl is now married to a man whom without I would be truly insane. My worst nightmare and my greatest blessing.
When Dad died and Mum went into a deep depression I firmly refused to fall in love. Love was unnecessary, pointless and everyone leaves you eventually so why bother? Love is a bad thing, love destroys.
When you think about it all conflicts boil down to a person's love for a person, object or principle e.g. The Vietnam War with the USSR's love of communism and the USA's love of capitalism. So if love causes all these problems why bother?
Then Mr Mellark waltzed on in here. He's hopelessly optimistic and can always make me laugh – but he's no pansy as he is still very strong – even stronger than when we were kids Otherwise when you consider the fact the he's survived two hunger games, star squad and torture… yep not a pansy.
He's the only one for me. The only exception.
Hey sorry that I haven't been writing have been struck by a terrible case of writers block. Also have just finished seven GCSE'S and am still working on four bits of coursework (I.T., Art and Two sciences).