Catching Fire - Peeta's POV

Chapter Four - Colours

"Chins up! Smiles on! They are going to love you all over again!" I wonder if Portia knows this is what Cinna told us at the Parade. It doesn't seem to cross her mind. She has fitted me with a navy suit, which apparently is all the rave now in the Capitol. Hanging a gold watch from my pocket, she adjusts a white rose on my other. It sickens me, the smell. So over-used in the Capitol, and roses seem to hold memories. As Portia bids me good luck at the door, I dramatically throw the rose on the floor, and squash it with my shoe for good measure. Portia scowls at this, but it brings me a genuine smile.

The snow falls thicker than I've seen. It plummets to the ground, but almost immediately melts. It is remarkably cold outside, but apparently not cold enough for the snow to settle.

Katniss is wearing a striking red dress, so emphasized by the white snow. As I step down the steps of my house, I can see more clearly that she is wearing a huge smile. A lot of people would say she is just really happy, but only a few can know that it is too artificial. She must be nervous, I think. I don't feel nervous in the slightest, and I can't even tell myself why. I'm sure Delly would know. But when Katniss comes running, I can tell something is up. Oh well, I will have to wait until after the shooting to ask. But for now, I try to keep her steady.

She slips on the snow, and I catch her in my arms. However, still not entirely in control with my artificial leg, I slip too, and we share a snowy kiss. She stands up, helps me up too, and waves the camera goodbye.

"That was nice." I say, unsure of what I will tell her next. Like most things, its stupid, uncalled for, and unplanned. "Some would think that kiss is real." My words are lined with hate and sadness, but I know that isn't fair. Even though I am annoyed at the fake romance between us, I could never hold her accountable for what she did in the Games to survive.

The train is exactly as I remembered it. Pristine, packed with delicacies, and more expensive than it has to be. But, proven by the last time I boarded this vehicle, is lined with memories. There is definitely no chance of me returning to my room, so I stay in the food cart, treating myself to fancy tarts and hot chocolate.

"Peeta! Wasn't Katniss' dress simply wonderful?" Effie says, high-pitched.

"It was, wasn't it." I say, replicating her strong accent. She gives me a stern look at that. "Ok, sorry, not funny."

I'm unsure of why Effie is even necessary. The only things she does that have any relevance to the Games, is call the names at the reaping, and make sure we are on time. We could leave all of that to the Capitol guards and Peacekeepers.

"I have made you speeches for the tour. You will eulogise the fallen tributes, attend the fabulous dinner, and then board the train to the next district!" She pulls out a stack of cards, before splitting them in half and handing them to Katniss and I. "Here are your speeches! Now go out there and have fun! You deserve it."

"What did you say?" Katniss growls.

"You deserve it, Katniss. Enjoy yourself." Effie says rather graciously. She doesn't know where this conversation is going, but I do.

"By killing people. We got here by killing people." Striding away into a mystery cart, she throws the cards on the floor, causing them to scatter. "Why do I even bother." I hear Effie mutter. But she knows, though, that how we got here goes completely against everything we value. I begin to think that Capitol people don't have values.

Cautiously, I place the cards on a wooden table, and follow Katniss into another part of the train. It takes a tediously long time, as I check in every room along the way. It turns out useless, though, as she is sitting at the final cart, watching the tracks recede behind her. Seemingly, she hears me, but doesn't turn around.

"I'm not in the mood. I'll apologise to Effie later." When no response is heard, she turns her head and spots me. "Thought you were Haymitch." She adds.

"Well, I'm not, and you don't have to apologise to Effie. What you said was true. And I'm sorry if I've been... treating you badly. I can't hold you accountable for what you did in the Games." I stare into her grey Seam eyes, before finishing. "Do you think we could just be friends for now?" She considers this for a second, but I think her answer was already set.

"I'm no good at making friends."

"Well, friends usually tell each other, you know, the deep stuff."

"The deep stuff, like what?" She says plainly. I wouldn't ask her the 'deep stuff' just yet, so I just think of anything.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Uh oh, you've stepped over the line." I chuckle, but I also demand an answer.

"Seriously though, what is your favourite colour?"

"Green," of course, she's spent half her life in the Meadow. "What about you?"

"Orange" I reply, thinking about Maryar's flames.

"Like Effie's hair?" Thinking back to one of the many wigs Effie has worn, the orange one was nauseatingly bright.

"No, more soft, and mute. Like the sunset." I think she is trying to conjure a picture of a sunset, but her increasingly flustered look in her eyes tells me that she can't. Instead, I show her the lone painting I have been working on since the beginning of the train ride. Half a sun, lowering against the horizon. Katniss seems mesmerized by the colours.