Fluid Heart, Firey Soul (Peeta Mellark x Reader)

Chapter 26 - District 12

My body is rigid and tense as I sit on the cold, wooden floorboards. The flask in my hands, once filled with warm tea, has long since gone cold. It's been about six months since they banished me to District 12, and my body still struggles to adapt to the harsh climate; every muscle is clenched tight against the biting cold. Back in District 4, it was always warm, but here I am, shivering in layers upon layers of clothing that offer little protection.

I should get up and move around, try to warm myself up, but I can't seem to find the energy or motivation to do so. Instead, I sit motionless, staring blankly at the window as faint streaks of pink begin to appear in the dark sky. The rising sun should bring a sense of relief; it means I've survived another day. But today is different. Today marks the dreaded day that I've been counting down for months.

By noon, everyone will gather at my new house in Victor's Village. The reporters, the camera crews, and Effie Trinket, Peeta's old escort and now mine, will all have traveled from the Capitol to District 12 for our Victory Tour. There will be others waiting for me, too. A staff to cater to my every need on the long train ride ahead. A prep team tasked with making sure I'm always presentable for the public eye. My new stylist, Cinna, who designed the outfits that made District 12 stand out in the last Games.

If only I could erase the Hunger Games from my memory entirely. Pretend they never existed. Never speak of them again. But the Victory Tour is a reminder that even though I'm out of the arena, I cannot escape the Games. It falls halfway between each annual Games, a deliberate ploy by the Capitol to keep the fear and horror fresh in our minds so we never forget their power over us. And not only are we forced to remember, we're expected to celebrate it. This year, as victors of the Games, Peeta and I will be the stars of the show. We'll travel from district to district, standing before cheering crowds who secretly resent us for surviving while their own perished. Standing before the families whose children I had been forced to kill.

When I first arrived at 12, I made it a point to explore the woods, though it's definitely not permitted. I needed a place to escape from the constant presence of people. After a few hours of wandering, I stumbled upon a small cabin near a lake that became my sanctuary it was a place where I could let go of all my worries and just be alone. And that's where I find myself today. As the sun continues to rise and cast a golden glow over everything. I force myself to stand up and stretch my stiff limbs. My left leg is practically numb from sitting still for so long, and it takes several minutes of pacing back and forth for the feeling to return. Despite having been here for the last three hours, I have accomplished nothing productive. No fishing, no gathering, nothing. Not that it matters much anymore— after winning the Games, I have more money than I know what to do with.

I start my two-hour journey back to Victor's Village, taking in the sights and sounds of the forest along the way. By the time I make it back to the fence that surrounds District 12, the sun is well up. Despite its warning signs of electricity, I've discovered that the fence is rarely ever on. In fact, I don't think there's ever been a time when it has been on. But still, I crouch down and press my ear to listen for the telltale hum of an electrical current through the metal before slipping underneath. I've been sneaking in and out almost daily, never bothering to ask if anyone knew the fence wasn't on. Emerging on the other side, I find myself in a peaceful meadow yards away from the outskirts of town. Despite having lived here for months now, I still can't shake off the feeling of being an outsider. But as long as my secret lakehouse remains undiscovered, I have a small piece of home in this unfamiliar place.

I slip through a narrow alleyway, the familiar path between two rundown houses that lead me back home. Or rather, my new home— one of luxury and fame, but also of guilt and loss. As I enter, I quickly shed my layers of clothing and swap them for something more befitting of a televised appearance. Time feels fleeting, but I allow myself a few moments to sit at my kitchen table. Here, I mourn the loss of my old life. It still stings like an open wound and though some days are easier than others, I long for the simplicity and security of District 4.