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

t w e n t y - e i g h t

The wide doors of my balcony are open, as well as the one to the hallway, and my room is filled with the warm, sweet air blowing in from the gardens. I had hoped the soft breezes would be a consolation for the fact that I have so much work to do. Instead they distract me, making me ache to be anywhere but stuck at my desk.

I sigh and recline in my seat, letting my head drape over the back of the chair. "Tig," I call.

"Yes, miss?" my head maid answers from the corner where she is sewing. Without looking, I know that Stacy and Annie, my other two maids, have perked up, waiting to see if they can serve me as well.

"I command you to figure out what this report means," I say, lazily pointing an arm at the detailed account on military statistics that sit in front of me.

It's a task that all the Elite would be tested on, but I can't bring myself to focus on it.

My three maids laugh, probably from both the ridiculousness of my demand and the fact that I'd issued one at all. I wouldn't call leadership one of my strong suits.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but I think that might be overstepping my boundaries," Tig answers. Even though my request was a joke and her answer is, too, I can hear the genuine apology in her voice.

"Fine," I moan, heaving myself into an upright position. "I'll simply have to do it myself. The whole lot of you are worthless. I'm getting new maids tomorrow. This time I mean it."

They all chuckle again, and I focus on the number one more time. I'm getting the impression that this is a bad report, but I can't be sure. I reread the paragraphs and charts, furrowing my eyebrow and biting the back of my pen as I try to concentrate.

I hear Annie laugh quietly and I look up to see what she's so amused by, following her eyes to the door. There, leaning against the frame, is Peeta.

"You gave me away!" he complains to Annie, who continues to snicker.

I push back my chair in a rush and run into his arms. "You read my mind!"

"Did I?"

"Please tell me we can go outside. Just for a little while?"

He smiles. "I have twenty minutes before I have to be back."

I pull him down the hall, the excited chatter of my maids fading behind us.

There's no denying the gardens have become our place. Almost every chance we get to be alone, we come out here. It's such stark contrast to how I used to spend my time with Gale: huddled at the rock in the woods, the only place we could be together safely.

Suddenly I wonder if Gale is around somewhere, indistinguishable from the numerous guards in the palace, watching as Peeta holds my hand.

"What are these?" Peeta asks, brushing across the tips of a few of my fingers as we walk.

"Calluses. They're from pulling a bow string so much back home."

"I've never noticed them before."

"Do they bother you?" I'm probably the only girl here who hunts, so I doubt any of them have hands like mine.

Peeta stops moving and lifts my fingers to his lips, kissing the tiny, worn tips. "On the contrary, I find them rather beautiful." I feel myself blush. "I've seen the world- admittedly mostly through bulletproof glass or from the tower of some ancient castle- but I've seen it. And I have access to the answers of a thousand questions at my disposal. But this small hand here?" He looks deeply into my eyes. "This hand can do things incomparable to anything I've ever seen or heard. Now, I've never seen you hunt, but I'm sure you're amazing at it. These calluses are just more proof that what you say and do are real."