The Angel of Death || Peeta Mellark x Reader

Sparks Fly

I was back on the streets of District 12, I was singing for an audience of one person, a little girl who didn't look like she was from here. I was singing something that I had done millions of times, an older folk song my mom sang to me when I was little. Neither of us knew the actual name of it, so we just called it 'Safe and Sound'. When I got to the chorus, I realized who I was singing for. It was the tribute from District 11. Her young face was etched into my mind ever since I saw it on the television when I was watching the other reapings with Peeta.

"But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down 

You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound"

I opened my eyes after singing the higher part of the refrain, and I gasped in horror. The little girl, Rue, had dark red blood dripping from a large gash in her head. I screamed, but nobody was around to hear me. 

After a less than peaceful first night of sleep in the complex built for the Tributes, I was woken up by Peeta. 

"You were screaming in your sleep, are you alright?", he asked, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just not too excited for what we have planned for today", I replied. He nodded his head in agreement, then left my room to allow me to change.

I got dressed into a simple outfit, I paired short black shorts with the emerald green tee shirt I had brought from home. It was the only thing I had that still belonged to me. 

I exited my room, and Effie showed me to a strange, dimly lit station with a cold metal table directly under the lone light illuminating the room. She told me to strip my clothes and change into the thin, papery gown, and prepare myself. I wondered what she meant by that last part, but I was quick to learn.

——————

My styling team, Flavius, Octavia, and Venia, applied wax to nearly every inch of my body, and ripped the strips away with no mercy. I gritted my teeth and fought back tears. If I couldn't even survive a little bit of cleaning, how in the world would I survive the Hunger Games.

I felt their eyes rake over my naked body, their glances shifting from my protruding ribs, a product of hunger, and bruises I earned from never sleeping in a real bed. Once they deemed me finished, they instructed me to a man named "Cinna's" private room. 

As I walked to my destination, I felt my legs crying out in pain. Once I finally made it to the room, I collapsed onto the table, and ran my fingers through my hair and all over my face. The prep team had threaded every stray hair on my face, from my eyebrows to my cheeks, they were bare. And for the first time in my entire life, my hair was silky and smooth, I was thrilled by the feeling of my fingers running through the luxurious curls.

While I was preoccupied with getting to know my new, clean self, the man I presumed to be Cinna walked in. His appearance came as a shock to me, since my entire prep squad was covered head to toe in ridiculous makeup, unnatural hair colors and styles, and overkill outfits that probably costed more than I could even imagine.

Cinna sported a maroon colored blazer and everyday black slacks, and his face was only made up with simple, gold eyeliner.

"I'm sorry that this happened to you. I have no idea what you could be possibly going through right now, but my only goal is to try and help you any way that I can", were the first words he said to me.