A/N: If you want sneak peaks, check out my livejournal (linked in my profile), but I warn you, a lot of these chapters are way in the future, so if you don't want spoilers, I'd steer clear. But if you want to check out my journal anyway, you're welcome to. All spoilers are hidden behind LJ cuts. And on with the story!
Review Response:
Cortana Bennet: I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that this is all Peeta's POV, so we don't get to see inside Katniss' thought processes for the 'softer side' of her. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm pushing her to Peeta too quickly. XP But yes, part of it is simply that she has been trying to keep the people from 12 from dying, but she can't seem to save them and either way she has to sacrifice someone. And of course, her own Games have messed with her.
mia66: well, welcome to the story then! :) Thank you very much for reviewing. Katniss should get kinda interesting once the Games begin and don'tcha just love Peeta? Lol, hope you stick with the story!
Nemue: (I always want to put an n in your name between the u and e xP) And I happen to entirely agree with your reviews comment—bring 'em on! Lol. And hahaha, that would be awesome. That's for the review!
Peacockgirl: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story (and don't mind it being in Peeta's POV). Thanks for reviewing!
ishyfish: Haha, addicted already? Glad to hear it! Thanks for reviewing. :)
AriadneO: It's good you're not asking—I wouldn't tell you anyway ;) —and I'm perfectly happy with you being addicted to the plot. x) I personally thought that was just too Peeta, you know? He seems so focused on how amazing Katniss is, he misses that he's pretty amazing, too. And I'll do my best to keep it good (and you hooked)!
Serafina Sky: Thanks so much! :)
Lgwater27: It is pretty sad to know that Madge is just screwed, isn't it? But that's the way it's gotta be. Thank you very much, and welcome to the story! :)
KatnissMellark: Hahah, of course. I'll just write non-stop. Forget school and life, this story is the only thing that matters! x) I totally wish I could do that actually... Lol, anyway, thank you so much!
iam97: It is pretty awful for Madge. I'm so mean to her... And yay! Sad was what I was aiming for, so I'm glad I hit my mark. x)
CHAPTER 8: SWEETER THAN HONEY
The day had been quieter than most at the capitol. Whether it was because the announcing of the scores had shocked them all into silence, or Peeta and Madge's witnessing of the argument the night before had separated the two of them, or it was just that Haymitch was still too hung over to get out of bed, Peeta couldn't be sure.
But he was sure that, were they all back in Twelve, he would be able to hear the chirping of birds in the silence. He hadn't really heard any birds in the Capitol.
Maybe that was what had him climbing the steps, uncertain whether or not he was 'allowed' to do so, towards the door that was ajar at the top of them. He pushed it open and found himself swept up in a rush of warm fresh air. The door had opened up onto the rooftop.
Although it was the top of a building made of concrete and stone, surrounded by the extensive, pristine Capitol city, there was just a hint of beauty in it. There was a small... garden. A garden of flowers with a bench and a walkway. There didn't seem to be any real reason for it—Peeta decided there was probably very little reason behind many things in the Capitol—other than to create something picturesque and perfect to sit and stare at.
He kind of liked that there was something created solely for the purpose of beauty.
A breeze ruffled his hair, and he moved into it, reaching the balcony. The sight was breathtaking. From his vantage, he could see the entire city. It looked so small, like a miniature of the real thing that he could just pick up and put away in an old trunk with the rest of his toys.
Peeta reached his hand out into the wind and—
"I would be more careful."
Peeta jerked his hand back immediately and spun around. Cinna stood before him calmly, smiling and stepping forward to stand beside him. He leaned against the balustrade, staring at the scene Peeta was admiring moments before.
"There's an invisible field around the entire roof," Cinna explained. "Just to make sure no one has an... accident."
Peeta glanced back to where his hand had been, then to Cinna. "Right. Wouldn't want any accidents before the Games."
Cinna smiled. "That would be tragic."
They stood a little longer together in silence, just staring at the city below them, both lost in their own thoughts. But reprieves never last long, and with a sigh, Cinna stepped back.
"We'd better go lest your lovely mentor worry too much."
Cinna always spoke of Katniss affectionately. It made Peeta uncomfortable.
…
Usually, Peeta was left to speak briefly with Portia when Katniss was busy with other things or centered in a heated argument with Haymitch or Effie. But once they had made it down to the common room for breakfast—which was already laid out on the table, although neither sat to eat—Katniss was still not present, and Madge and Haymitch had probably already begun their practice for the interview. Assuming Haymitch had managed to drag his ass out of bed.
Cinna didn't say anything since they had left the roof, although he wasn't doing it out of rudeness. He was merely a calm, unobtrusive person by nature. Odd, considering his Capitol heritage.
Still, the silence was awkward for Peeta.
"Thank you," he said finally.
At Cinna's raised eyebrows, Peeta clarified. "I mean, for the outfit. The opening ceremonies. We were spectacular out there because of you and Portia."
Cinna studied Peeta silently for a moment before answering, "When Katniss had the names of the tributes, she called me."
Peeta forgot sometimes that there was communication possible between districts and the Capitol. It had never occurred to him that Victors might have that luxury.
"She told me: make them brilliant, Cinna. Give them a chance." Again Cinna watched Peeta closely, gauging his reaction. "I didn't ask why, and now, I think I don't need to."
Peeta didn't get the chance to ask what he meant, because Katniss came into the room and instantly, Cinna's attention went to her. He gave her a smile, and walked over to put his hands on either of her straight shoulders.
"The crowd's going to love him," Cinna promised. "He's a natural."
Katniss nodded, something like doubt and relief in her eyes. "Yeah, well, I hope so. Haymitch isn't looking so good today."
Frowning, Cinna whispered something too quiet for Peeta's ears and after a moment Katniss let out a small sigh. She reached up and put her hand on top of his, squeezing. After that, he gave one last glance to Peeta—filled with comfort and a silent pep talk— and then he left the room, disappearing to places that only Capitol citizens could go.
Peeta couldn't help but wonder how Katniss could seem to trust him so much... Although Portia seemed nice enough and time spent with her as she worked so very hard to make him spectacular was easy enough, he still couldn't stunt the flow of anger that went to all Capitol citizens.
They took away everything, after all.
But again, Peeta didn't ask questions about whatever friendship had built between Katniss and her stylist and again, Katniss didn't offer an explanation.
Today, Katniss looked incredibly stressed. It was interview day, Peeta remembered with dread, and her own interview had been... something of a first. He remembered the tight, red sparkling dress that dazzled the audience as she spun for them. Her shiny, curly dark hair pulled up off her neck save a few strategically placed ringlets. The questions that made her look adorable, even naïve, and no threat to the other tributes in any way except the form of Capitol affection and attention.
Until her last response. The one that belied the fire burning inside her heart. The one that wouldn't let her go down without a fight.
It wasn't in her nature.
Peeta had no idea how he was going to play this interview, and Haymitch was drunk as a skunk.
Katniss glanced over at the large, ornate clock nervously. Maybe she had been anticipating Haymitch, must have been, because Effie was never late and she wasn't here.
"I don't think he's coming," Peeta muttered to her.
"He'll be here."
"But if he's not..." Peeta trailed off.
Katniss sighed, "Peeta. I really... I'm not good with this stuff. I was never any good with words."
Peeta raised his eyebrows, realizing that Katniss hadn't been prepared for that interview at all. He should have known it, honestly, because Katniss could never be a trained show dog. There was too much honesty flooding her face, unable to be hidden by something like lies and pretending. That interview had been all her, despite any attempts by Haymitch or Cinna, the stylist.
Everything from the giggling girl to the intense tribute was all Katniss.
He stared at her with a new sense of awe. To have the bravery to be so exposed to the entire world and not crawl into a rock, to still fight with all of what made her her... Peeta couldn't do that. He hid behind falsehoods and lies and walls built to protect him and others.
Exposure wasn't an option.
"Don't worry, Peeta," she told him, struggling to figure out what to tell him. "They're going to like you."
He didn't believe her.
"You're good with words. And it helps that you're attractive."
He stared at her. Attractive. Katniss Everdeen thought he was attractive. She didn't say it as though this was some declaration of love—or that it would even necessarily lead eventually to a declaration or something close enough to it—but she still said it. And that rosy, sweet blush on her cheeks suggested that maybe she hadn't meant to blurt it out.
Several long moments passed between them as she searched for a way to work around what she just said, while he enjoyed a moment where she was looking at him as a girl looks at a boy.
"The Capitol's going to like your, um, Merchant, um, looks." She really wasn't any good with words.
He released her of any responsibility and embarrassment—no point in pushing her now.
"What do I say?" he whispered to her.
Katniss looked at him, frowning, uncertain. "You say... whatever you want the rest of Panem to keep with them, if you..."
"If I die."
She nodded her head. "This is the last thing you can give them that the rest of the Capitol can't shape. Can't manipulate. This is your last shot. Make the most of it, not because it gives you a better chance for sponsors, but because it makes people remember that you are a person."
And with that, Haymitch stumbled in. He let out a loud belch, "Load a bullshid."
…
Ultimately, everyone was right. The interview was easy enough for Peeta. Words were one of his few true strengths. Something that ultimately wouldn't do him any good in the arena. But it could do him some good now. The scores had been announced—Peeta's had been unusually high—but it wasn't a guarantee. If the other tributes made a stronger show in presence, sponsors would go to their personal favorites. For everyone, not just Peeta, the interview was the last chance to make an impression. It could help or hinder them in the long run, but with his natural gift with the word, Peeta could make himself and instant favorite with the crowd.
It helps that you're attractive.
She had said it offhand, as though she was only stating a fact, inconsequential beyond its relation to the Games and what it could do for him. But her cheeks still turned a rosy shade of pink and she wouldn't look at him.
That was what he was taking on stage with him. The image of rosy cheeks and the thought that Katniss Everdeen had noticed he was cute.
"You two are adorable enough to be twins!" Flickerman said, meaning it as a compliment, and the crowd giggled and awed in agreement.
Peeta thankfully kept the smile on his face. "That's a big compliment coming from you," Peeta said smoothly, managing to be both flattering with words and bashful in expression. "Especially since Madge is so pretty, I can't believe you compared me to her."
The crowd loved it. They ate it up and were hungry for more.
Flickerman was grinning now. "She certainly is," he agreed. "Do you have a girl like her back home?"
Peeta looked down towards his hands, shaking his head and blushing just a little. "No, sir. I'm not that lucky."
An audible "aw" left the crowd once more. He didn't mention Katniss, couldn't. They wouldn't understand, not again. Not like this. It didn't matter if it was true. It just never mattered.
"Chin up, Peeta!" Flickerman said enthusiastically. "If you win these Games, you can have any girl you want!"
Peeta gave a sad smile, and nodded, knowing that the girl he wanted was trying desperately to keep him alive, but in the end, could care less if it was him going home.
If there was anything he wanted to say, a last confession, it was of love. It was a wish that he would make it home, that he would have a chance—just one chance—to win the girl of his dreams. But it was a confession he could never make.
Because four years ago another confession had been made and another boy had died. In the end, Peeta knew that it was only ever Katniss that would survive.
A/N: If you guys find mistakes in this one, please point them out. It was a little discombobulated when I first started writing it.