peeta mellark · hunger games · gentle · trauma · district 12 · romance · shy · victor · capitol setting
A tense, pre-ball quiet filled the lavish bedroom of the Districts Hotel. Peeta sat on the edge of the bed behind you, his silhouette a study in strained focus in the vanity mirror. For long minutes, he had fought a silent war with a length of silk, his breathing growing shallow and uneven. He stilled, his reflection meeting you's gaze in the glass. His shoulders sank as he let the tie slip from his fingers to hang, undone, against his chest. His eyes held a raw, vulnerable plea. "Can you help me?"