A/N: This one is a lot like the book, with some obvious quotes pulled right from the opening ceremonies scene. I didn't write them, Suzanne Collins did. :)
"What do you think?" Katniss whispered. "About the fire?"
Truth be told, Peeta thought Portia was insane, just as insane as any other Capitol maniac he'd encountered, when the stylist told him about the fire. Synthetic or not, the prospect of being lit on fire right before entering a street crowded with thousands of people made his stomach queasy. The funny part was, he probably would've been more okay with the fire if not for the crowd.
"I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine," he said through gritted teeth.
"Deal," Katniss said. "I know we promised Haymitch we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle."
Peeta couldn't help wondering why Haymitch had given them the order to not interfere with the stylists' inspiration. What was wrong with a little tribute-opinion? Portia had said that she and Cinna, Katniss' stylist, wanted to make them recognizable but radiant.
"Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?" said Peeta.
"With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame," Katniss murmured.
Peeta laughed, really laughed for the first time since his name was drawn in District 12's square. He was laughing at Katniss' comment, yes, but he was really laughing at everything. Everything he had done since the chat with his father had been to convince Katniss of not giving up. When the tribute train reached the Capitol, he had waved and smiled at the citizens as they gawked at their appearance. All he was trying to do was give off the impression that all hope was not lost. He wanted to get the idea in Katniss' head that she had to fight, had to try and stay alive.
Suddenly the doors slid open. Peeta's stomach plunged downward and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn't even believe his own stage-fright when he remembered his father's words: Then steel yourself.So Peeta clenched his fists and took a deep breath. From now on, he wouldn't be this nervous.
Before he knew it, Cinna was stepping up to them, a lit torch in his hands. But Peeta fought back the wave of anxiety. Nervousness would make him seem weak, and Katniss couldn't see him that way.
"Here we go then," Cinna said, putting the torch to Katniss' and then Peeta's cape. He bit his lip fiercely, waiting for a wave of heat. When it didn't come, he relaxed slightly. Maybe Portia wasn't so crazy.
After Cinna illumined their headdresses with the synthetic fire, he let out a sigh of relief. "It works." Then he gently tucked a hand under Katniss' chin. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!"
Peeta smiled at Katniss' expression. Cinna was cheering her on, and she seemed to appreciate it. At least I'm not alone, he thought.
When Cinna left the chariot, he spun on his heel and called something up to the tributes. Peeta only barely made out what he said: "Hold hands!"
"What's he saying?" Katniss asked. Peeta looked at her and almost gasped, taking in the flickering fire above her head. But mostly, taking in how the firelight played across her features, making her seem more beautiful than ever. If that was possible.
Recognizable but radiant,he thought.
And incredibly radiant she was.
"I think he said for us to hold hands," said Peeta. He grabbed her right hand in his left, and they looked to Cinna for confirmation. He nodded and gave a thumbs-up, and that was the last thing Peeta saw before they entered the city.
Suddenly Peeta's decision to shove away all thoughts of anxiety vanished. He braced himself in front of the roaring crowd, gripping Katniss' hand with such intensity he was sure she was thinking about how weak he was being.
Until he heard what the crowd was roaring about.
"District Twelve! District Twelve!" Wait a minute. That was his district, wasn't it? He looked to his left, to his right, everywhere; everyone was shouting chants of District 12, Katniss, Peeta. They were on fire, in more than one sense of the phrase. And Peeta loved it. He let a smile warm up his face, gazing out at the crowd with a little more confidence. He lifted a hand to wave a couple times, the praise and cheering buoying him.
And Katniss was basking in the glory, too. Peeta spared a glance at her to see her blowing a kiss to the crowd, still shining beneath her fiery headdress. Peeta almost thought he wouldn't be able to tear his eyes away from her until he caught sight of a large television screen above their heads, displaying their brilliant entrance. But even then his eyes immediately went to the girl on fire beside her; he no longer cared about the crowd or himself. Katniss was beaming, glowing. She was soaking it all up, seemingly trying her best to win herself some sponsors.
Then it occurred to him. Sponsors. There was literally no way he could possibly gain sponsors for Katniss. That was something she had to do on her own. He supposed he would just have to continue giving her that winning spirit. That was all he could really do until the Games.
When the City Circle came into view, Katniss began to loosen her grip on Peeta's hand. Almost too quickly, Peeta said, "No, don't let go of me. Please. I might fall out of this thing."
"Okay," Katniss replied, holding on tight.
Peeta wasn't sure why he had said that. After his newfound confidence, he was sure he could hold his own in the chariot. But something about the way Katniss held his hand made him want to cherish the moment… No, that made him feel silly. Here he was, ready to do anything to keep Katniss alive, including letting himself die. He couldn't go loving her at this point in the game.
This made Peeta stop and think. Do I lover her? he thought. The initial feelings were always there, but was it even more than that? He let the question slip by unanswered, afraid he wouldn't like the response. Even so, all throughout President Snow's speech and the national anthem, Peeta can't help his eyes flitting over to Katniss every now and then. At least there was an upside to all of this. Loving the girl meant that he would stop at nothing to keep her alive.
Suddenly the chariot made one final loop around the City Circle and headed for the tower that was the Training Center. Once they were safe behind the doors if the building, Portia came by to extinguish their flames. Peeta didn't even notice the dirty looks from the other tributes. He was too concentrated on Katniss' fingers still intertwined with his. He thought too soon, because Katniss released her iron grip and massaged her hand gently. Peeta did the same, trying not to feel as crestfallen as he did.
"Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky there," he said.
"It didn't show," Katniss replied. "I'm sure no one noticed."
"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often," he said. "They suit you." They did suit her. Too bad synthetic fire was only something you could find in the Capitol.
Then Katniss did the unexpected. She leaned toward Peeta and gave him a small kiss on the cheek, right on top of the bruise Haymitch had given him on the train. She walked away swiftly, braid whipping around as she spun on her heel.
And just like that, Peeta knew he was a goner.
