Fire Burns Brighter in Darkness|| Peeta melark x reader

4

Words: 2.8k
A/n: this hurted, man :((.
Also,, I based the dream not-so-loosely on a dream I had about my ex a day or two before she broke up with me ;)) bc ya'll know I love using my own failure of a love life to further my fics😩✌.
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Peeta and I stare in shock as Haymitch tries to rise from the puddle of his own vomit. It's utterly vile and I'm shocked that Peeta isn't gagging. I can't believe that once we're in the arena, this man covered in the stink of his intestines will be the only resource we have.

"Help me" Peeta says as he grabs one of Haymitch's arms. I grab the other and we haul him up, the stench is enough this close up to nearly bring my dinner up.

"I tripped?" Haymitch asks, "smells bad," he wipes his hand on his nose, smearing his face with puke. If this man is all we have, we are utterly screwed.
"Let's get you back to your room," Peeta says "Clean you up a bit,"

As we half lead, half carry haymitch back to his room Peeta carries most of the weight. He holds Haymitch in a way where I barely have to touch him, he knows I'm not good with things like this. Haymitch doesn't even notice when we dump him into the bathtub and turn the water on him.

"Should I-' Peeta cuts me off before I can finish
"It's okay" he says, shooing me away halfheartedly "what kind of a man would I be if I let my best friend clean vomit off a naked old man". He manages to make even such an uncomfortable situation lighthearted, I love that about him.

Some deep part of me tries to convince me that Peeta's doing this to gain Haymitch's favour, become his favourite in the games. But there's no way Haymitch will even remember this he's so drunk. Peeta's always been kind, he puts others before himself and he understands that sticky, stinky bodily fluids have a stronger effect on me then they should. He's even willing to wash chunks of vomit out of Haymitch's chest hair so I don't have to.

Peeta Mellark is the sweetest man I've ever met. Looking at it now, I'm sure he'll have no problem winning over the hearts of the capitol. He'll have sponsors dropping in left and right, while I'll have none. I'm just average, mediocre- there isn't much interesting about me- though I'm sure Effie will make up something for the interviews.

I go back to my room and grab the little box of cookies Mr Mellark gave me, then go back and sit outside Haymitch's cabin, against the wall. I wait there for maybe half an hour, trapped with my own thoughts and worries. Between thinking how insignificant I actually am that none of my friends ever actually visited me before I was sent away and imagining all the possible ways Peeta could die. There's an inner turmoil bubbling within me, stronger than it has ever been before.

Peeta sees me as he exists the room. "You alright, meat cleaver?" He says as he sits down next to me, holding his legs to his chest, looking up at the ceiling.
"Does it look like I am, bread boy?"

We both burst into giggles at the nicknames. I cant help but let my imagination drift to a reality where we grow up and get married, merge our families' businesses. Would someone be calling our kids stale meat? Or hot crossed wings?

But that's a stupid idea. An idiotic thought. Especially in a situation like this where, most likely, we will both die. And even if we were never reaped, there was no future for us. We don't have a spark that could turn into fire, we don't have love that lights up the darkness.

We were never meant to work out.

I hold up the little box to his face. "Your dad gave it to me. But I know he intended them for you." Peeta doesn't respond so I slowly turn to see him. I can't put a name to his expression, shock? Pity? It seems like so many things morphed together.