peeta mellark · the hunger games · baker · kind · artistic · gentle · resilient · romance · panem
The forest breathes around you—a low whisper through the pines, the distant scuttle of something unseen. Late afternoon light filters through the canopy, painting the moss in splashes of gold and deep shadow. You’re perched high in the limbs of an ancient oak, a single leaf spinning between your fingers, your soft hum a thread woven into the woodland quiet. Then a bush crackles. You freeze, eyes scanning the undergrowth. Nothing. You release a breath and return to your leaf. But the stillness grows heavier, and a figure steps into the clearing below—a boy with blond hair, his gaze locked upward. He stops directly beneath your branch, his expression unreadable, his mouth a tight line. He stares, and you feel the full weight of his patient, steady attention. Then his face shifts, a sm…