It's easy to overlook
Peeta through the eyes of Greasy Sae behind her stall at The Hob. Set between The Hunger Games and Catching Fire. Maybe a little explanation as to why she comes to the house at the end of Mockingjay.
So many people overlook him. Isn't that always the way? To be nice is to be taken for granted. Kindness is criminally undervalued. Yet everyone likes him. She does, especially, anyway.
She comes in here with Gale every Sunday, although God knows she doesn't need the money anymore, laden down with rabbit and squirrels, a deer if I'm lucky. They flirt, and Darius teases her about paying with a kiss, she and Gale sell their wares and head off to the mayor's house; just like always. Everything's just like always. Everything but her.
There's something in the way she smiles, like she's not quite as there anymore, like something is missing. And I saw them in the cave on TV. Sae knows what's missing. It just looked too real to ignore, all snuggled up like that.
I see him too, in the market lugging flour bags about for his dad, in the bakery working moving trays in and out of the oven. He doesn't have to, God knows he doesn't need the money and his paintings are becoming the talk of the town. All of her, they say, with smiles and shrugs. But he does it anyway, to save his parents needing to hire someone else, to see his little brothers and to keep himself busy, I think. Kind; I think that too.
What it must be like, to be a member of that little club. Haymitch; drunk far more often than not, and her; busy with her family or with Gale, or learning her "talent", or off with the birds, singing like her da'. Must be lonely is all. No one to understand what the Games is like but those two and neither of them any help to talk to, I 'spect.
He opened the door for me last week, saw me coming to open up my stall and one little bowl just ran away from me. Clear ran across the courtyard to pick it up, insisted on taking some of my load and helped me all the way to the stall. Stood there like a lemon afters, didn't know how to help next. Sweet boy.
"I can…uh…," he trailed off, holding a pan and a hob ring like the two were meant to go together.
"You can run along now. You've helped me plenty and your da'll be wondering where you've got to."
"Are you sure? I have some time before we open up." He looks so concerned, I'm tempted to take him up on it.
"Go on, I'll be fine." Oh, I couldn't resist it. With a twinkle and a smile, "And I'll, uh, be sure to tell her you stopped by later on."
He looks at me startled for a second and then half smiles, look down at his shoes. Hidin' a blush, I suspect. "I…say hi from me…okay?"
"Can do. Now go on, get along." He nods and smiles and heads towards the door. Kind boy. Still likes her, I see. I hope it works out for them. They deserve something happy.