imperfect fit ; an everlark au based off of 'the selection' series

t w e l v e

The cameras do a lap around the room then leave to let us enjoy our breakfast in peace, getting one last shot of the prince before they depart.

I'm a little thrown off by the sudden elimination, but Peeta doesn't seem too distressed. He eats his food without a care, and as I watch, I realize I should eat my own breakfast before it gets cold. Again, it's almost too delicious. The orange juice is so pure that I have to take smaller sips just to absorb it. The eggs and bacon are heaven, and the pancakes are perfectly done, not too thin.

I hear lots of little sighs around me, which indicates that everyone is enjoying their food. Remembering to use the tongs, I pick up a strawberry tart from a basket at the center of the table. I wonder if I had been another stranger to Peeta when I walked into that room, would I have been kicked out too? I mull this over as I bite into the strawberry tart. It was so sweet and the dough was so flakey, every millimeter of my mouth is engaged, taking over the rest of my senses entirely. I don't mean to make the little moan, but it was by far the best thing I had ever tasted. I take another bite before I even swallow the first.

"Lady Katniss?" a voice calls.

The other heads in the room turn to the voice, which belongs to Prince Peeta. I'm shocked he would address me so casually in front of everyone. What's worse than being called out unexpectedly, is being called out unexpectedly with your mouth full. I cover my mouth with my hand as I try to chew as quickly as possible. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but with so many eyes on me it feels like an eternity. I note Glimmer's smug face as she watches me. I must look like an easy kill in her eyes.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" I reply as soon as I had most of it swallowed.

"How are you enjoying your food?" Peeta seems to be on the verge of laughter, either from my bewildered expression, or because he'd brought up a detail from our very first, highly unauthorized, conversation.

I try to stay calm. "It's excellent, Your Majesty. The strawberry tart . . . well, I have a sister who loves sweets more than I do. I think she'd cry if she tasted this. It's perfect."

Peeta swallows a bite of his own breakfast and leans back in his chair. "Do you really think she would cry?" He seems exceedingly amused at the idea. He does have strange feelings towards women and crying.

I think about it. "Yes, actually, I do. She doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to her emotions."

"Would you wager money on it?" he asks quickly. I notice the heads of every other girl bouncing back and forth between us as if they are watching a tennis game.

"If I had any to bet, I certainly would." I smile at the idea of betting over someone else's tears of joy.

"What would you be willing to barter instead? You seem to be very good at striking deals." He's enjoying this little game. Fine. I'll play.

"Well, what do you want?" I pose. Then I wonder what in the world I could offer someone who already has everything.

"What do you want?" he counters.

Now that's a fascinating question. Almost as interesting as thinking of what I could offer Peeta is what he can offer me. He has the world at his disposal. So what do I want?

I'm not from the Capitol, but I'm living like I am. I have more food than I can finish and the most comfortable bed I can imagine. People are waiting on me hand and foot, whether I liked it or not. And if I need anything, all I have to do is ask.

The only thing I really want is something that will make this place feel like less of a palace. I can't ask for my family to visit, it's only been a day.