This was my submission for the THG Spring Fic Exchange in March 2013. The prompt was "Katniss is heavily involved in a fandom and attends a convention. She can already be with Peeta, or end up meeting him for the first time there. Whether Peeta is involved in a fandom or not is up to you. What fandoms that participate in is also your choice."
I do not own The Hunger Games, they belong to Suzanne Collins.
Generations ago, a severe drought plagued the nation of Panem – well, most of Panem. As if the gods were playing a cruel joke, the Capitol, the wealthiest area of Panem, was spared. They even discovered abundant aquifers on the outskirts of the city. As a result, the Capitol collected and stored water and held it hostage from the rest of the country. President Snow, who until then seemed a benevolent ruler, seized the opportunity to gain even more power and created The Drought Wars, pitting the districts against each other for the chance at winning a year's supply of water, essentially resuscitating the victorious district and saving its citizens.
The premise was simple – the districts would nominate two of their strongest citizens, a male and female, and they would be sent to the Capitol to fight to the death in an immense stadium called the Dome, built specifically for the Wars. The last surviving warrior would be declared Champion, and his or her district would receive the water.
At first, the districts tried to unite and revolt against Snow and the Capitol – but as the weeks came and went with no water, the hopelessness crept in they found themselves increasingly desperate. Eventually, each district held contests and elections that would decide who to send to the Capitol. Snow finally had his Wars.
There were fifteen years of Drought Wars. Each year, the winning district made promises of sharing with other districts, and each year the nation prayed for rain. And yet, there was no sharing. The rain never came.
In the final Wars, the warriors from District 12 refused to kill each other. The female warrior was named Acacia – she was a huntress and was known for her quick instincts and deadly aim. The male warrior was named Peat – named after a kind of coal, since District 12 is the coal mining district. Peat came from a long line of coal miners, and before entering the mines himself, he had a reputation of having enormous strength, being both the star wrestler and boxing champ of the district.
According to the history books, Peat and Acacia formed an alliance, already being acquaintances from the district. Then something happened that had never happened before in the history of the Wars.
They fell in love.
Peat professed his secret love for Acacia during their first night in the Dome. She resisted at first, insisting that no good could come from this revelation since one or both of them could be dead by morning. But after days…and nights surviving together, she found she could no longer resist his kind soul and caring heart.
So, at the final battle, when they stood as the only remaining warriors, she laid down her bow and he dropped his sword. They stood, hand in hand, waiting for Snow's anger to take shape as poisonous rain or blood thirsty wolves. Instead, they heard the Anthem of Panem, and the announcement that both Peat and Acacia were declared Champions. District 12 celebrated, and Peat and Acacia returned to start a new life together.
Little did they know that they had already started a rebellion.
"Katniss? Have you seen my dagger?"
"Um, I think I saw it on your dresser. Mind giving me a hand with this vest?" I ask my sister. We're going to The Drought Wars convention today, celebrating twenty-five years since the first book was written, one hundred years after last Wars took place. We've been looking forward to it for weeks now.
"Ohmygoodness you look amazing! Sooo Acacia!"
I chuckle at Prim, but I have to admit, I look pretty damn good. I'm wearing the red leather vest Acacia is known for, along with a tight black long sleeve shirt and even tighter tan pants, tucked into tall black combat boots. My hair is pulled up in her classic high ponytail, with little wisps hanging down on either side of my face.
Prim's gushing over my outfit, which I spent a fortune on, but it was worth it. Growing up, Acacia was my idol, my role model. If my hair wasn't in a braid, it was in a high ponytail. My wardrobe pretty much consisted of only red, black and tan clothing. I even took up archery because of her.
It's the love part I could never get behind.
Not that I would have wanted to kill Peat, mind you, but if he was the only thing standing in the way of me going home to my family, then my arrow would have shot straight through his heart before he could even think about picking up his sword.
Love. I just don't get it.
"Okay, I'm ready. How do I look, Kat?"
Prim decided to go as Eve, Champion of the 7th Drought Wars and mentor to Acacia and Peat. She was known for her strength, but also for her smarts – she was a genius at setting traps and creating diversions. In the books and movies, she's always characterized as being somewhat unhinged, and, well, mad, but Prim always had a soft spot in her heart for the crazy Champion.
"You look great, Little Duck. Ready to go?"
"Yes yes yes!" she exclaims. I pick up my bow and take another quick look in the mirror before heading out the door, rolling my eyes at my sister's high pitched voice.
"It's going to be a big big big day!"
We arrive at the convention center early, but there's already an enormous line waiting for us when we pull into the parking lot. I groan, but Prim's grin never wavers. I practically have to stop her from skipping to the end of the line.
As we wait, I take in all of the different costumes around me. There are dozens of Acacias and Peats, a smattering of Eves and other Champions, and surprisingly a good number of President Snows. I laugh when I spot a toddler dressed as Acacia, complete with a bow and a tiny quiver of arrows. She's freaking adorable.
We finally arrive at the doors when we hear a familiar voice. "What's up, Everdeens!" Johanna yells, dragging along a very miserable looking Gale Hawthorne, my oldest friend.
"Hey guys!" Prim yells, jumping up and down, "You look great, Jo! And Gale…um…hi!"
My sister's enthusiasm is contagious and actually gets a smile out of Gale, though he still looks like he'd rather be a million miles away from here. "Hey ladies," he greets us before turning back to Johanna. "So, babe, now that you found Prim and Catnip, do you think you could maybe let your husband go for the day?"
She glares at him.
"Uh, okay, nevermind then," he says, lowering his head and frowning.
I laugh. "Come on Gale, humor your wife and hang out with wannabe Champions for a day. It won't kill you."
"Fine," he huffs, "But there better be alcohol around here somewhere, or I'll have to use Jo's axe to chop off my own head."
"Babe, you won't have to do that," Johanna says. "If you're really that miserable, I'll go ahead chop off your head for you."
Prim and I stifle our laughter as Jo kisses a very irritated Gale on the cheek. These two are crazy, but they're perfect for each other.
"So, Jo, you look awesome. Is that an actual replica of Olivia's axe?" I ask. Olivia was the only Champion from District 7, where Johanna is originally from.
"Yep, it took a lot of convincing, but Gale said it could be my birthday slash Christmas slash Valentine's Day present…for the next three years," she says, giving Gale a pointed look.
"Yeah, you better not lose that thing," he says.
"Relax Hawthorne, if anyone tries to take it, I'll just use it to chop off their hand," she says, walking ahead of us.
"Katniss," Prim whispers, "I don't think she was kidding."
Jo surprises us by turning around, a huge grin on her face.
"I wasn't."
An hour later, I find myself alone and walking around the artist's section, where people can showcase their artwork on anything and everything related to The Drought Wars. I stop at a painting of Acacia, the real Acacia, not the actress from the movies. I stare at it, and it sends shivers down my spine.
It's perfect.
The artist has captured every detail, from the wisps of hair around her face, to the etchings she had on her bow. The setting has her in the woods at sunset, bathed in breathtaking hues of greens and oranges, and the sunlight caresses her face perfectly, making her look luminous.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?"
I whip around to see a man staring at me. He has the bluest eyes I've ever seen.
"Yes, she is…" I begin, but his stare is making me uncomfortable, so I turn to walk away.
"Wait," the man calls out, "Can I…Can I sketch you?"
Can he what?
"I'm sorry," he continues quickly as he darts out in front of me. "You just – you look so much like her. I'd kick myself later if I didn't at least ask…"
I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. "You…you think I look like Acacia?" I mumble.
He smiles. "A spitting image, actually."
Run, Katniss. This guy is obviously crazy.
"Thanks, but I'm thinking that this is just some lame pick-up line, so I'll be going now," I say, stepping sideways to walk past him.
"Wait!" he calls after me, but I keep walking, determined to get away from this creep. I hear someone running behind me, and I'm about to break into a run myself until he jumps ahead of me.
"Here, I want you to have this," he says, handing me a large paper bag. I hesitate at first, but curiosity gets the better of me and I take the bag, peeking inside. It's the painting of Acacia.
"Oh, no, I couldn't," I say, pushing it back into his hands. "It's beautiful – perfect even, but I couldn't…"
"Please," he says, "I can always paint another one."
"But…why?" I ask, looking up at him.
He looks into my eyes and I feel as though my heart has leapt into my throat. "I just think that…since you don't believe me, you could take it home with you and look at it from time to time. Then one day you might see what I see."
I furrow my brow at him, completely confused. We're speaking the same language, yet I feel like I haven't understood a word he's said.
"Please?" he says, smiling.
I blush again. It really is a gorgeous painting. And if he's offering…
"Sure. Yes. Thank you…" I say, reaching toward him to grab the bag, but instead he takes my hand into his.
"I'm Peeta."
I look at him cautiously, but I keep holding onto his hand. Its strength and warmth sends tingles up my arm, and all at once I'm filled with a strange desire not to let go.
"Katniss."
"Nice to meet you, Katniss," he says, finally letting go of my hand. "Enjoy the painting."
I open my mouth, but he's gone in an instant. I turn around to watch him walk away, admiring his blonde hair and broad shoulders. He turns his head and shoots me a small smile, and I flush again, looking away. Once he disappears into the crowd, I take the painting out of the bag to admire it.
He's wrong. Or blind. Either way, there's no way I look like Acacia. She's beautiful. I'm…well, I'm Katniss.
I sigh and tuck the painting back into the bag, when I notice that the crowd has parted in a way that allows a direct line of sight from me to Peeta, who's returned to his table.
I meet his eyes, and he smiles.
I smile back.
"For the love of God, can we PLEASE just get the hell out of here already?!"
It's the first thing I hear when I make my way back to Gale, Jo, and Prim, and it makes me laugh so loudly that they turn around instantly.
"Ooh, what'd you get, Katniss?" Prim squeals at the sight of the bag in my hand.
"Oh, it's nothing…" I begin, but before I know it, Jo has the painting out. She, Prim, and even Gale let out an audible gasp at the sight of it.
They all stare at it for a moment, then they look up at me.
"What?" I say defensively.
"Where did you get this?" Prim asks softly, running her fingers over the paint.
"Um, one of the artists…he gave it to me…" I say, blushing.
"He gave it to you, huh?" Jo says, smirking.
"Yes, he gave it to me. He said…he said…"
"Spit it out, Katniss," Jo commands.
"He said I look like Acacia." I say quickly.
"Well…you sort of do," Gale says, and we all turn around, surprised. "What? You do. Especially when you look at this."
"He's right, Kat. This is gorgeous," Prim says, handing it to Johanna. "So…was he cute? Let's go see him!"
"Absolutely not!" I exclaim, glaring at her.
"Okay, okay, let's not torture the poor girl," Gale interjects, laying a hand on Prim's shoulder to calm her. She looks disappointed, but nods at me in understanding.
"Yeah, okay, you're right. Did you at least get his name?" she asks.
"Peeta. He didn't give me his last name."
"Uh, it's right here, brainless," Jo says, pointing to the bottom corner of the painting. "P. Mellark – wait, do you think that could be the same Mellark as the Mellark Bakery on Haymitch Avenue? If so, totally hit on him, they make the best cupcakes!"
I wince at her words, taking the painting and placing it back in the bag. "Look, he said I look like Acacia, he gave me the painting, and I took it. End of story. Now, what are we doing for lunch?"
We finish up our quick hot dog lunch and I find myself alone, again, since Prim and Jo wanted to line up for some ridiculous Q&A with the 'second assistant to the assistant director' of the third Drought Wars movie. Jo finally allowed Gale to leave for the day, which means we'll have to drive her home later.
Spitting image. Peeta's words haunt me. I grew up idolizing Acacia, but I never once thought that I looked like her. Sure, maybe a slightresemblance, but spitting image?
Why is this bothering me so much? Is it what was said, or the person that said it? Not only are Peeta's words haunting me, but his eyes…oh, his eyes. They've been burned into my brain.
I'm staring at a poster of the actress who played Acacia in the movies when I'm tapped on the shoulder.
I turn around. It's those blue eyes again.
"Are you going to tell me that she looks more like Acacia than you do?"
"Stop."
"Really? You've never thought-"
"No, Peeta. I've never thought. I mean, Acacia was beautiful…"
"Katniss, you're-"
"Okay, Peeta, seriously, you don't even know me," I interrupt. I'm not angry, exactly, just very, very confused. "Let's just talk about something else, okay?"
His face falls, but he nods and points in the direction of the toy aisle. "Okay. Want to go see some Drought Wars Legos?"
I give him a small smile. "Sure."
Peeta and I walk around together for the afternoon, checking out the amazing Drought Wars Lego creations, looking at costumes from the films, and watching a few very awkward and hilarious movie reenactments by some die-hard fans.
While in the comic book aisle, I notice that Peeta flips through a few issues with interest, but never makes a move to buy them. When he walks ahead of me, I take note of the ones he was looking at. Hmm. Fifteen dollars for a comic book? No wonder he didn't buy them. Still…I memorize the titles so I can get them for him later as a thank-you for the painting.
We now find ourselves back in front of his table. He nods to his friend, who leaves, telling Peeta he's managed to sell a few pieces in his absence.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have kept you from your table." I feel bad that he wasn't able to promote his own work, especially since all of it is amazing.
"Don't apologize," he says with a smile. "I didn't really intend to sell too much today – I just came for the camaraderie of it all. I mean, I know most people are here for The Drought Wars books and movies, but they forget that they were based on real people. That this is a huge part of our history. It's basically the only reason we're free right now."
I'm stunned into silence. That's exactly how I feel.
"Plus, who can resist a good love story?" he adds.
And now, he's lost me.
"Well, you had me at the history part…" I say, tracing my finger over one of his sketches. "I agree with everything you said. We wouldn't be here today if they hadn't unknowingly started that rebellion."
"But…" he says, eyeing me curiously, "I get the feeling you're not quite sure about the love story part of it all."
"Well," I begin carefully, "It's not that I'm unsure about it, I just don't believe that it was their 'love' that saved them."
I look up at Peeta and he's smirking at me. "What?"
"Did you seriously just air-quote 'love'?"
"So?"
"So, you don't believe they were really in love?" he asks.
"No…yes…I mean, I don't know. I just find it hard to believe that you can feel that strongly about someone after just a few days. Enough to risk your life for them."
His smirk is replaced with a look of concern. "You're over-thinking the word 'love'. Let's start with 'trust'. Do you think Acacia trusted Peat?"
"Yes. But trust isn't the same as love."
"No, it's not, but it certainly builds the foundation for love. It's just like the painting I gave you," he says, pointing to the bag in my hand.
"What about it?" I ask.
"You don't believe me when I say you look like her. That you're beautiful. You don't trust me."
"I just met you!"
"I know, I know, but I bet that if someone you actually love told you the same thing, you wouldn't believe them either."
Seriously? Is this guy a wizard or something? Some sort of handsome, well built, all-knowing wizard?
"What are you getting at, exactly?" I challenge him.
"You know, I'm not really sure," he says, laughing. "All I know is that I believe what we were taught. I believe that they fell in love, and it was their love that saved them. I believe in the romance of it all."
Romance. There's another thing I wouldn't know if it hit me in the face.
"Katniss! There you are!"
Crap.
Prim and Jo come running at me and stop short when they see Peeta. "Ahhh, so this is our painter?" Jo asks, looking him up and down. "Not bad, brainless."
I'm going to kill her.
"Uhh, Jo, Prim, this is Peeta. Peeta, this is my friend Johanna and my sister Prim."
They shake hands and I want to run and hide. Prim is absolutely swooning, batting her eyelashes at Peeta, while Jo keeps trying to get a look at his ass.
"So, are you ladies enjoying the convention?" he asks, trying to extract his hand from Prim's grip.
"Definitely!" Prim squeals, "We just met someone who was on the set for all three movies. He had some pretty interesting gossip about one of the actresses…"
I roll my eyes and glance at Peeta. He shoots me a small smile but continues to listen to Prim, nodding and getting a word in here and there. When I've heard enough, I pull on Prim's hand and narrow my eyes at her, which shuts her up immediately.
"So, uh, we better get going. I think Gale is expecting you home soon, right Jo?" I ask, looking at Jo and nodding.
"Actually," she says, grinning wickedly, "Prim and I were just going to look at the movie costumes, weren't we, Primmy?"
Prim's eyes light up in understanding and she nods. "Yes, yes we were. Katniss, you don't mind, do you? We'll be back in a few minutes!"
"What about -" I begin, but it's too late and the girls are already scampering away, leaving me once again with Peeta.
He smiles brightly at me, and I flinch as he extends his hand toward my head.
"You have a feather in your hair," he says, removing it and handing it to me. "Must be from one of your arrows."
I smile, blushing as I take the feather from him. Our fingers touch and I feel that same spark from earlier, when we shook hands and I didn't want to let go. But the moment passes when he's called away by someone looking at his sketches. "Be right back, Katniss."
"Sure. I'm actually gonna go get something, but I'll be back," I say, and his face falls.
I see the uncertainty in his eyes. I don't blame him, we did just met a few hours ago – what's to stop me from leaving and never coming back? So, to reassure him, I hand him my bow. "Here, keep this safe for me."
That's all he needs, and his smile returns. I grin and wave, running off in the direction of the comic book aisle.
When I get to the table with the issues Peeta was considering, I gasp when I notice that they're gone. I turn around and see a young girl at the payment table, so I run over to see if she picked them up. Sure enough, she's holding the issues Peeta was looking at, and she's already paid for them. Panicked, I start wringing my hands together and try to think.
"Um, excuse me…" I begin, tapping her on the shoulder. She's dressed as Eve, and the daggers she's shooting at me from her eyes match the one strapped to her belt.
"What?" she snips. At this, I clench my hands into fists. I cannot stand bratty children.
"I was wondering if I could buy those two issues off of you. I can pay you a little more for each, so you'll actually make some money off of them."
"Hmm…" she thinks, looking at them and pursing her lips together. "Thirty each."
"Thirty?!" I exclaim, "No way. Eighteen."
"Twenty-five."
I raise my eyebrow and lower my head so I'm closer to her ear. "Twenty each, and I won't tell the guy that you snuck one into your bag."
Her eyes grow wide, and she nods, handing me the issues. I hand her the money and stare her down until she turns and runs away.
I look at the issues and smile triumphantly, making my way back to Peeta's table. I make it about ten paces before I stop in my tracks and realize what I've done.
I met this man just hours ago, and now my usually frugal self has just spent forty dollars on him.
His touch makes me tingle.
His eyes are burned into my brain.
His smile makes my heart beat faster.
This isn't me. I've been fine without a man for twenty-four years, and I certainly don't need one now.
I sigh and find a bench to sit down and gather my thoughts. I flip through one of the comics in my hands, and discover it's the one where Peat confesses his love to Acacia.
"Peat, we barely know each other."
"You're wrong. We went to the same school, we live in the same town…"
"But - "
"No, wait, just give me a chance. Acacia, at our first school assembly, you danced. Do you remember?"
"…Yes."
"You were so pretty, so graceful. Even at five, I knew I was a goner."
"Peat -"
"Then, that same day, you accidently hit me with your ponytail."
"You're lying!"
"No, I'm serious, I was standing behind you…I actually wanted to tell you how well you danced, but someone called your name, and you whipped around so fast that you hit me with your damn hair!"
"Oh no! Did I at least say sorry?"
"No. I don't think you even realized you did it. But you smiled at me. That was enough."
Their moment gets interrupted when the thunder starts and the Dome unleashes a two-day storm. I stare at the pages, so artfully drawn, and concentrate on Acacia's face. In this scene, she's smiling. Glowing, even. Most photos in the history books show Acacia as the Warrior, the Champion, the woman who helped start a rebellion. She always looks fierce, strong, and capable. I wrack my brain, but no images of a happyAcacia come to mind. For the first time in my life, this bothers me.
I stand up with a mission. I know Peeta's probably waiting anxiously for me, but there's something I have to do first.
I sprint over to the other side of the convention center, to the small corner they reserved for historical artifacts. Not too many people seem to be visiting this area – they're all too obsessed with the books and movies.
"Excuse me," I say to the old woman behind the table, "Do you have any pictures of Acacia with Peat? After the Rebellion?"
She smiles and nods, handing me a big book.
"Chapter 74."
"Thank you," I say, taking the book. I lay it on the table and flip to Chapter 74: Peat & Acacia: Life After the Wars.
I look at the pictures, and my whole world stops. How have I never seen these before?
There are a few of their wedding day. We learned from the history books that they eventually got married and had children, but the books and movies never took it past The Great Rebellion. Actually seeing the pictures in front of me melts my heart. They look so happy. Blissful.
The chapter covers their married life, the rebuilding of their home, and the birth of their son and daughter. There aren't many pictures, but in each and every one, Acacia wears a smile proudly, especially when she's looking at Peat or her children. She looks different from the Acacia I grew up idolizing. Instead of looking stern and determined, she looks content. It sounds ridiculous, but in this moment, I feel happy for her.
"Here you go, dearie. Found this in one of the older books just this morning," the woman says, handing me a folded up piece of paper. When I open it, I see it's a page torn out of an old book, with a photo of Peat and Acacia holding hands in front of a tree. The caption reads: Peat & Acacia at the Hanging Tree. Acacia's in rare form, wearing a red sundress, with her hair down and flowing in the wind. They're both barefoot and smiling at each other. It's lovely.
"Go ahead and keep it," she says, winking at me.
I don't have the energy to fake refusal this time, so I nod politely and smile at her. "Thank you. I love it."
She nods and walks away. I look at the wedding picture of Peat and Acacia one last time before I close the book and head back to Peeta's table, feeling like a whole new Katniss.
His face lights up when he sees me walking towards him. I see Prim and Jo have returned as well, and Jo raises her eyebrow at me since it's obvious I'm hiding something behind my back.
I look at her and shake my head slightly. She seems to understand so she nods and smirks.
"Kat, Gale called. Do you mind if we get going now?"
I look at Peeta and see the disappointment on his face, but he recovers quickly and smiles at us.
"Well, it was really nice to meet you all. Come by the bakery sometime, I'll treat you to some cupcakes."
"I like the sound of that!" Jo exclaims, shaking his hand.
"It was nice to meet you, Peeta," Prim says, "Kat, we can meet you back at the car…take your time." She smiles at me and winks. I'm grateful, so I ignore the wink and smile back.
Once they leave, Peeta hands me my bow. I take it from him and place the comic books in his hand.
I wish I could capture the look on his face.
His eyes grow wide and his jaw drops, and for the first time since we met this morning, he's speechless.
"I wanted to thank you. For the painting," I say nervously.
"Katniss, you didn't have to, really, the painting was a gift," he says, furrowing his brow.
"I know, but still…I wanted to get these for you. Please just accept them."
"Okay…but I still feel like this is too much. How about I sketch you something? Like, Acacia in the Dome, or in the Rebellion?"
An idea springs into my head. I reach into my back pocket and hand him the page with Peat and Acacia by the tree.
"Can you sketch this?" I ask quietly.
He stares at it, then at me. "Sure, absolutely…where did you get this?"
"The historical section. The woman gave it to me after I asked to see pictures of Acacia with Peat, after the Rebellion…"
At this, he beams. "And what made you want to see those?"
I blush. "Oh, I don't know. A certain someone reminded me that there's a love story behind all of this," I say, gesturing around us, "I chose to ignore that part all these years, but now, I think, maybe…it's not such a bad thing."
I cringe inwardly at my inarticulate words, but they're the only way I can describe how I'm feeling. Peeta seems to understand. He simply nods and tucks the piece of paper in his back pocket.
"So…if I'm going to sketch this for you, I'll need your number. You know, to let you know when it's ready. " he says.
"Okay."
"Then you'll allow it?"
"I'll allow it."
I'm staring at it again when the baby kicks. I groan and try to adjust my position on the couch, but it's no use. I'm so freaking uncomfortable.
"Katniss?"
Peeta comes in bearing two bowls of ice cream. Mmm. Ice cream.
I settle my bowl on my protruding belly and start to dig in, occasionally looking up at the painting that's been hanging in our home for three years now.
"You're looking at it like you've never seen it before," Peeta says, laughing.
"I know it's crazy, but for some reason I can't stop looking at it today. It's really lovely, Peeta."
He laughs again. "So you've told me many, many times, but thank you," he says, kissing my temple, "I'll never get tired of hearing it."
"So, what are your name offerings for tonight, my dear husband?"
He sits up, excited. "Okay, how about…Wheaton for a boy?"
"No bread names, Peeta!"
"Fine," he says, pouting. "Willow for a girl?"
I smile at him, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Willow…"
"Willow Mellark. Sounds nice, right?"
I let the name sink in, and look up at the painting I've been staring at all day. It resembles the picture of Peat and Acacia in front of the tree, but it's actually us – me and Peeta. It's my face and grey eyes, wearing a green dress instead of Acacia's red one. Peeta, who already had a strong resemblance to Peat, is wearing orange instead of black, with blue eyes instead of brown. I love looking at it.
It took weeks, even months into our relationship before I truly believed what Peeta told me the day we met – that I was beautiful. The painting of Acacia hung in my room for a while, but eventually I took it down. I stopped idolizing her for who she was during the Wars, and grew to admire the woman she became later: the woman who accepted love instead of denying it; the woman who risked everything to stay with the man she adored; the woman who married that man and had two beautiful children with him.
Being with Peeta and spending time with him – it made me want to become that version of Acacia. The one who could fall in love but at the same time remain true to herself. So that's what I did. I fell in love.
And I've never looked back.
"What are you thinking about over there?" Peeta asks, pulling me closer.
I turn to look up at him, smiling. "Willow. I love it."
He smiles and leans down to kiss me.
"I love you, Katniss."
"I love you, Peeta."
"Always."
This fic led me to so-amazing-here, and I'm so lucky to have her as my beta and friend! Go check out her stories!
Hope you enjoyed this, come play with me on tumblr if you're on there - 30smmof2