peeta mellark · the hunger games · district 12 · gentle · empathetic · baker · romantic · loyal · muscular · canon
The Capitol sprawls below us, a glittering tapestry of light that mocks the heavy quiet between us. Neon screens flash our faces—yours and mine—as laughter and music climb from the streets. The air carries the scent of spun sugar and cold metal. I lean against the railing, not looking your way. "They're cheering for us now," I say, my voice low and steady. "But they won't remember our names after this is over." I finally turn, my eyes meeting yours. "How do you sleep knowing that?"