Living Lies ✜ Hunger Games x Reader

One Last Knife

"So, tell me, what originally drew you to falling in love with my friend?"

Peeta lets out a little chuckle, apparently amused by your sudden eagerness about his relationship with Katniss. You lean back against a nearby oak tree, savoring your newfound relief in the awkward situation, and starting to enjoy stepping into your new role as Katniss' "wing-woman". Even being in the Hunger Games, you're finally starting to feel normal again—behaving like you would if Katniss was actually going on a date with Peeta back in District 12.

You push yourself away from the tree and playfully nudge him in the ribs. "Come on, tell me," you urge as he shakes his head and laughs quietly. "And be honest."

"It was her voice," Peeta admits, popping a berry in his mouth. It wasn't a berry he'd got from you (you doubted he'd accept any food from you anytime soon) but rather one of the leftover berries from the sponsor gift the two of you had got from Haymitch last night—right after your long confession and discussion. You suppose that your mentor is quite happy that the whole possible relationship issue is now resolved—thanks to you. You're just glad any hint of anything more than friendship between you and Peeta probably got edited out.

"What about it?" you ask curiously.

"It's hard to describe," Peeta hesitantly explains, "it's just like everybody—even the birds—stopped to listen. It was just, captivating. I knew as soon as I heard it I was gone."

You smile ever so slightly, wondering if he ever noticed you hanging around with Katniss—or if her (h/c) friend faded into the woodwork. Maybe he noticed Gale, though, and the way every girl in District 12 looked at him twice. Except Katniss, for some reason, which probably made Peeta deeply relieved.

"Katniss has a way of doing that," you agree, "she may not want to admit it, but she's always been more noticeable than me."

"She's not the girl on fire," Peeta points out.

You scoff, studying the knife in your hand. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't."

There's a brief silence, only broken by Peeta's slightly sympathetic voice. "When we get out of this," he says, "you won't be alone. You're an amazing person, (Y/n), someone will find you."

You glance up at your District partner, expecting to see pity or some fake smile plastered on his face, meant to reassure you that you'll be alright. But you only find sincerity. He really believes that you'll be found.

Not that you will find somebody. But that somebody will find you. Somebody who doesn't love someone else.

"Thanks, Peeta, that means, a lot," you respond, pausing to glance around the forest nearby. You clap your hands together once, catching his attention. "Well, we came out here to get some food. Let's split up and start searching. Whistle if something's wrong, and I'll come running."

Peeta nods briskly, watching as you disappear off deeper into the forest to hunt. You listen for any and every creak and rustle. Walking cautiously through the forest, knife drawn, allowing your mind to wander slightly.

20 down, 2 to go.

This morning, after your bandage was removed (and Peeta had deemed you sane, suffering no mental instabilities) Peeta had confessed that, along with Clove, Thresh was announced to be dead as well.

You were, in a way, both shocked and not shocked at the same time. You were surprised because Thresh was a boy—or rather, maybe a man—who could crush a girl's skull in one try with just a rock. You couldn't possibly see how it could have been easy for somebody to kill him, but then again, if Cato was the one who killed him, he was probably feeding off of his outrage for strength alone.