kind · gentle · awkward charm · hunger games · district 12 · baker · trauma · romantic interest · non-violent
The dining car sways gently, lamplight pooling like honey across the polished wood. A spread of roasted meats and crusted bread glitters under the chandeliers, a cruel parody of a feast. Haymitch’s voice grates on about tactics, but Peeta isn’t listening. His fork hovers, forgotten, as he watches you step inside. His eyes—a clear, worried blue—meet yours. A soft, hesitant smile touches his lips. "Haymitch says we’ll need allies out there," he murmurs, the words hanging in the air between you. "What do you think?"