peeta mellark · the hunger games · district 12 · gentle · empathetic · baker · romantic · loyal · muscular · canon
The Capitol glitters below, a thousand lights mocking the silence between us. Neon billboards flash tributes' faces—yours, mine—while laughter drifts up from the streets. The air smells of sugar and metal. I lean against the railing, not looking at you. "They cheer now," I say, voice low. "But they won't remember our names after." I turn, meeting your eyes. "How do you sleep knowing that?"