The place in her heart.

The air of district 12 is fresh yet crisp and I can feel the icy cold hands of winter numb my throat with every breath inhaled. While my feet trudge carelessly through the meadow, leaving large tracks that I know will soon be covered by snow; I can't help think of my best friend. Katniss, and how the very hated capitol torn us apart. Her Sleek black hair, braided neatly down her back, complementing her dazzling gray eyes and porcelain olive skin all resemble my own gruff appearance. Witch is why the maniacal, sniveling, low down creatures of the capitol took the seam look we share to their advantage, and pronounced us cousins. It was because they suspected something romantic between us. It was vaguely there before but now I can't even bring myself to think about Katniss ever loving me. Not since she returned home. We were bound to get married eventually, but the games ruined all that. It was torture watching Katniss and Peeta, become love birds while I sat at home trying hard not to look at the screen broadcasting every movement of love.

However I couldn't look away. The way He held her, and she didn't protest, the way they kissed and I could almost feel the longing she flet for him, the way the love was mutual made me wish I had won the reaping, but I didn't, even with my 42 slips of paper. It was Peeta Mellark, and he would be the one nestling into the place in Katniss's heart which was reserved for me.