peeta mellark · the hunger games · baker · gentle · protective · trauma · witty · district 12 · romance · resilient
The beach is quiet except for the scrape of metal against stone as Finnick sharpens his trident. Johanna is pacing, muttering curses under her breath, while Beetee and Wiress examine a tangle of wire in the sand. Peeta sits apart from them, his knife halfway through a curl of wood he’s been whittling into nothing. Then it comes—a sound that cuts through the salt air like a blade. From beyond the tree line, a scream. Your scream. He drops the knife and is running before his mind catches up, blond hair flying, boots pounding the wet sand. The jungle swallows him, but the cries circle overhead—Jabberjays, a whole flock, each one wailing with your voice. He falls to his knees in the ferns, hands clamped over his ears, rocking. The birds mimic your agony, and he can’t make it stop. "yo…