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During her stint in 13, Katniss had become amazingly adept at finding little hiding places where nobody would come across her. The boiler room, a storage closet, an abandoned classroom. Oftentimes these were barely big enough for her to fit, but she didn't mind curling up in order to do so. It was in these places that she would purposefully disregard her schedule and spend her days sleeping and wandering, partially because of the concussion Johanna Mason gave her, but mostly because Peeta Mellark was gone. They had taken him to the Capitol, used him to break her and it had worked spectacularly. She was a useless Mockingjay with clipped wings without him, and everyone in the War Room had known it.
Peeta was gone now, too, but this time it was different. This time Katniss at least knew that he was safe and on his way to some form of happiness and normalcy, and as twisted and bruised as her heart is now she's not going to deny him that. It's almost strange not to have him around, and it's definitely something she had taken for granted in the past. That Peeta would be there, always. That his hands would always be steady and he would smile slightly when he saw her, and that...
Well, what was the point in thinking about it? She wasn't going to call him back if he had moved on, because that was selfish and she had already been selfish enough in not telling him about 12. If he didn't love her anymore, hated her, even, who was she to deny him the chance to love someone more functional than she? Maybe this Peeta, whole an unbroken as he was, deserved more than the burned-out husk of the Girl on Fire. This Peeta didn't need her.
Katniss is curled up in a hollow tree, head resting against the wood and breathing in the faint scent of mildew, though she hardly minds it. It's almost a comforting scent, natural although slightly sickly sweet. But this tree is hidden from view in most angles, and the quiet of the forest is just what she needs to calm the myriad of thoughts in her head.
Peeta was gone now, too, but this time it was different. This time Katniss at least knew that he was safe and on his way to some form of happiness and normalcy, and as twisted and bruised as her heart is now she's not going to deny him that. It's almost strange not to have him around, and it's definitely something she had taken for granted in the past. That Peeta would be there, always. That his hands would always be steady and he would smile slightly when he saw her, and that...
Well, what was the point in thinking about it? She wasn't going to call him back if he had moved on, because that was selfish and she had already been selfish enough in not telling him about 12. If he didn't love her anymore, hated her, even, who was she to deny him the chance to love someone more functional than she? Maybe this Peeta, whole an unbroken as he was, deserved more than the burned-out husk of the Girl on Fire. This Peeta didn't need her.
Katniss is curled up in a hollow tree, head resting against the wood and breathing in the faint scent of mildew, though she hardly minds it. It's almost a comforting scent, natural although slightly sickly sweet. But this tree is hidden from view in most angles, and the quiet of the forest is just what she needs to calm the myriad of thoughts in her head.
