in which girl and boy are forced into their almost certain death. in order to live, they know one of them must die.
this is their story.
peeta mellark x julia arlock (oc)
(planning to update every 5-7 days!)
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the girl on fire.
the air starts to feel suffocating as i step out of the still woods and back toward the rugged fence cutting off the forest from the rest of district 12. at my belt are the results of my trip; three plump squirrels. i smile, thinking about the look of pleasure the baker is sure to wear as i approach his shop. on an average day, i wouldn't return to town until much later. katniss, gale, harlow, and i would spend hours out among the trees, searching for food and enjoying each other's company.
but this is no average day.
in town, everyone moves through the soot-covered square carefully, as if one misstep will lead to a split in the pavement. the faces around me show a mix of emotions; fear, anger, and sadness. almost all of the faces show exhaustion. nearly everyone who passes shoots me a sympathetic gaze. they always do on reaping day. ever since lily. a mother from the seam smiles grimly at me as she passes and i return it with a small grin and a nod, remembering with a pang that her daughter turned 12 last week.
when i reach the bakery, i take a deep breath in, letting the smell of freshly baked bread and desserts wash over me. before i step through the doorway, however, i look to see who is inside. once i see it's just the baker, i let out a small sigh of relief and walk in.
the baker himself is a very kind man. on days when i don't do as well in the woods, he still tries his best to give katniss and me a good deal. his wife, on the other hand, is an absolute witch. there's no way i would ever try to make a trade with her in the vicinity.
he smiles at me as i walk in, soft blue eyes crinkling as he sees the squirrels at my belt. "good day, huh?"
i nod, handing over the game for him to examine. "finally," i sigh. "i guess i had a little bit of luck today." he handles them gently, turning them over before placing them on the counter.
"I'll take two off your hands for you. how does two loaves sound?" i shake my head, eyes wide. sure, the baker is generous in trades and the squirrels are good quality but they're still only worth one loaf for the two of them.
"oh, no, sir, i couldn't..." but he just waves me off before walking through the doorway to the kitchen. while i wait, i take a look around the small shop. tiered cakes covered in vibrantly colored frosting sit in the windows. danishes garnished with thick blobs of gem-shaded jellies sit next to golden-brown, flaky pastries. but one particular display catches my eye.
sitting on a cake stand is a stack of iced sugar cookies. they have been painted to look like a flower; lilies. i smile. "beautiful," i whisper.
"my son does the cookies." i jump, whirling around to see the baker back in the room, clutching the two loaves. "peeta. i believe he's in your grade at school."
