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

t w e n t y

The queen's family stayed a few days, and the visitors from Swendway and entire week. They did a segment on the Report discussing international relations and movements toward more peace for both nations.

It's now a month into my stay at the palace, and I'm completely at home. My body is comfortable in the new climate. The warmth of the palace is heavenly, like a holiday. September is almost over, and it gets very cool in the evenings, but it's much warmer than home. The sights of this giant space are no longer a mystery. The sounds of heeled shoes on marble, crystal glasses clinking, guards marching- they are starting to become as normal as the refrigerator humming or my bow shooting.

Meals with the royal family and times in the Women's Room are staples in my routine, but the middle moments of my days are always new. I spend a lot of time practicing piano, which I'm starting to get a hang of.

In general, the animosity has settled well. We're getting used to one another. We finally found out the magazine's top picks for our photographs. I was shocked to see I was one of the front-runners. Clove was in the top-spot, with Finch, Tilly, and Cashmere close behind. Glimmer didn't talk to Cashmere for days upon hearing this, but eventually everyone let it pass.

What seems to bring the most tension are the bits of information tossed around. Whoever has been with Peeta recently can't help but gush about their little interlude. The way everyone speaks, it sounds like Peeta will be picking six or seven wives. But not everyone is shining in this experience.

For instance, Clove has had more than a few dates with Peeta, which puts everyone on edge. Still, she never came across as excited as she had after the very first one.

"Katniss, if I tell you this, you have to swear not to tell a soul," she says as we walk into the garden. I know it's something serious. She's waited until we got away from the listening ears in the Women's Room and far beyond the eyes of the guards.

"Of course, Clove. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just . . . I need your opinion on something." Her face is heavy with worry.

"What's wrong?"

She bites her lip. "It's Peeta. I'm not sure it's going to work out." She looks down.

"What makes you think that?" I ask, concerned.

"Well, for starters, I don't . . . I don't feel anything, you know? No spark, no connection."

"Peeta can be a little shy is all. You have to give him time." This is true. I'm surprised she doesn't know this about him.

"No, I mean, I don't think I like him."

"Oh." That's something very different. "Have you tried?" What a stupid question.

"Yes! So hard! I keep waiting for a moment to come when he'll say or do something to make me feel like we have something in common, but it never happens. I think he's handsome, but that's not enough to build a whole relationship on. I don't even know if he's attracted to me. Do you have any idea what kind of things he, you know, likes?"

I think about it. "No, actually. We've never talked about what he's looking for in the physical department."

"That's another thing! We never talk. He talks on and on to you, but we never seem to have anything to say, we spend a lot of our time quietly watching something or playing cards." She looks more worried by the minute.

"Sometimes we're quiet together, too. Sometimes we just sit and say nothing. Besides, feelings like that don't always happen overnight. Maybe you're both just taking it slow." I try to sound reassuring- Clove looks like she's on the verge of tears.