Fluid Heart, Firey Soul (Peeta Mellark x Reader)

Chapter 24 - Mutts

As I sit next to Peeta, my mind can't help but wonder aloud, "I wonder how they'll do it." He looks at me, pensive and silent, lost in his own thoughts of what he thinks might happen.

"Well, until they bring us together, there's no sense in wasting a fishing day," I continue. "But we should probably eat as much as we can. Just in case we run into trouble." With that, Peeta begins packing up our gear while I lay out a large meal for the two of us to share. The remnants of our last fishing trip are spread out, alongside the roasted roots, greens, and the last two rolls slathered with the rest of the cheese. The only thing I leave in the bag is the apple.

By the time we finish eating, all that's left are small piles of fish bones scattered around us. My hands are greasy and sticky, which only adds to my increasing feeling of grime and discomfort. Living in the arena has been a challenge; I long for a hot shower like the ones I used to take every day back home. In here, I've been without one for about two weeks, unless you count my bath in the stream.

As we prepare to leave the cave, an odd feeling washes over me. This could very well be the last time we're here. Whether we survive or not, this place holds memories I won't forget. I pat my hand against the rocky wall of our shelter as if saying goodbye to an old friend. I suggest heading to the stream to fill up on water before continuing on, but when we arrive, all that remains is a bone-dry bed of rocks and sand.

"The lake," Peeta mutters, "they want us to go to the lake." I know he's right, we have to go. But the thought makes me uneasy. The lake offered no cover, no protection. It was an area designed for a bloody, televised finale. I could feel doubt creeping into my mind, wondering if Peeta and I were really a match for Cato. I had no strategy, no plan for how to approach this final showdown. Do we charge in headfirst? Or do we wait until we run out of water before going?

Peeta seems to sense my thoughts and speaks them aloud. "We should go now, while we have the energy and supplies. Let's just end this thing."

I nod in agreement, but inside I feel like I'm starting from square one again. Cato still looms as the biggest threat in these Games, except now he is not my ally— he is my enemy. All the other tributes were just distractions, mere obstacles leading up to the final battle. Cato. I know this fight will be unlike any other we've faced so far.

"Two against one. Should be a piece of cake," I tell Peeta, though my stomach churns with conflicting emotions. Two against one. It should be an easy win for us, but this is the Hunger Games— nothing is ever truly easy. Peeta's eyes meet mine.

"Next time we eat, it'll be in the Capitol," he says confidently.

"You bet," I respond, trying to match his confidence, though my voice wavers slightly.

Peeta's arms wrap around me, pulling me close. We stand there for a moment, embracing each other tightly as the bright sun beats down on us and a gentle breeze tousles our hair. It's a brief moment of peace— the calm before the storm.

Without a word, we break apart and make our way towards the lake, our destination for this life-or-death battle. Our steps quicken with each second and my heart starts racing the closer we get. While I have a chance at surviving since two tributes can one, one boy and one girl, Peeta does not have that same opportunity. It's either him or Cato left standing. But knowing Cato, he'd much rather be the sole victor than share the glory with anyone else.

Peeta's fingers lace between mine, surprisingly calming me down a bit. As we continue walking, I can't help but wish for a quick and easy end to all of this. To just face off against Cato now and return home, but I know the Gamemakers won't let that happen. They thrive on drama, on prolonging the inevitable. It's their grand finale, why would they make it easy?