Fluid Heart, Firey Soul (Peeta Mellark x Reader)

Chapter 14 - Let The Games Begin

For a lingering moment, the cameras focus on Peeta's downcast eyes and reddened face. When he turns his head to meet my gaze again, I'm already looking at him. He seems at a loss for words— I can't blame him. If our interviews were reversed, I would've struggled the way he is now.

"This is a real stroke of bad luck, isn't it?" Caesar remarks, a tinge of genuine sympathy in his voice. The crowd echoes his sentiment, expressing a mix of wails and murmurs of agreement. "Fire and water, two foes in the Games, a true tragedy."

"It's not ideal," Peeta nods in agreement.

"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that beautiful young lady." Caesar responds, attempting to ease the tension with a touch of light-heartedness.

I allow my eyes to flicker up to the screen, realizing it's focused on me now, and the blush on my cheeks is vivid and evident.

"Wouldn't you all just love to pull her back out here and get a response?" Caesar teases the audience. The crowd erupts into screams. Internally, I'm pleading not to be called back onto the stage. Not again.

"Sadly, rules are rules, and Miss (L/N)'s time has been spent. Best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go out to you." Caesar concludes.

The crowd roars and applauds as Peeta returns to his seat, the footage of our moments on the rooftop igniting a frenzy among the audience. We've unwittingly become the tragic lovers of the Games, a narrative crafted in a mere week, but one that has captured the hearts of the Capitol. Tragic lovers destined to be torn apart in an arena where only one emerges victorious. It's a narrative painted with pity for us, poor tragic us.

As the anthem plays, every screen in the room is dominated by a shot of Peeta and me, cementing our status as the star-crossed pair. After the anthem concludes, the tributes file back into the Training Center lobby, making their way to the elevators. I spot Peeta and Haymitch entering an elevator and my eyes scan the room for Finnick. Finding him, I swiftly grab his arm, pulling him with me into Peeta's elevator just before the doors close.

"Oh, hey—" Peeta starts, his voice quiet.

I remain silent, my eyes fixed on the ground. As soon as the elevator reaches the twelfth floor, I storm out before anyone has a chance to protest.

"What do we do now?" I ask, my tone slightly hysteric. "I mean, you saw what happened. How do we handle this?"

Finnick guides me to a nearby couch, my body shaking slightly. I don't understand what's come over me. Anger, embarrassment, fury— all these emotions are bubbling to the surface, and it feels like my body has no idea how to handle it.

"How could they do that?" I wail, allowing the onslaught of emotions to take over.

"We can work with this," Haymitch tells Finnick, who nods in agreement. I'm well aware they've met before, but I find myself pondering if they're friends. It seems odd, but not entirely out of the question.

"I look weaker than I already am," I protest, both mentors shaking their heads in dismissal.

"You look desirable, which can't hurt you, sweetheart," Haymitch says.

"He's right," Finnick agrees, "the Capitol already adores you, and now they all want you. You're all they're talking about. The boy on fire and the girl of the sea, star-crossed lovers never meant to be."

"But we're not—" Peeta begins before Haymitch grabs him firmly by the shoulders. "Who cares? It's a big show, it's all how you're perceived."

"He's right, Peeta," Finnick adds.