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

s i x t y - s e v e n

I'm right. Gale has every corner of the palace memorized, and he knows exactly how to get us out of it.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Peeta asks as we get dressed in my room the following evening.

"We need to know what's going on. I have no doubt we'll be safe," I assure him.

We speak through the cracked-open bathroom door as he drops the pieces of his suit to the floor and climbs into the gray cotton outfit people from Twelve wear when they go into the mines. Gale's clothes are going to be a bit big on Peeta, but they will do. Thankfully, Gale had found a smaller guard to borrow clothes from for me, but even then I have to roll up the hem of the pants several times to find my feet.

"You seem to trust this guard a lot," Peeta comments, and I can't figure out the tone he's using. Maybe he's just anxious.

"My maids say he's the best you have. And he got me to the safe room that time the Southerners came, when everyone was running late. He always looks ready to go, even when things are quiet. I have a good feeling about him. Trust me."

I hear the rustling of clothes as he continues. "How did you know he could just get us out of the palace?"

I walk over to my mirror and pull my hair into a quick, messy side braid. "I didn't. I just asked."

"And he simply told you?" Peeta replies, astonished.

"Well, I told him it was for you, of course."

He makes a sound, something like a sigh. "I still don't think you should come."

"I'm going, Peeta. Are you done yet?"

"Yes. I need to get my shoes on." I open the door, and after a quick once-over, Peeta starts laughing. "I'm sorry. I'm used to seeing you in gowns."

"You look a bit different when your not in a suit yourself." And he does, not in any way that's close to comical. Even though Gale's clothes are too big, Peeta looks good in plain old clothes. Even with the long sleeves of the cotton shirt, I can still see the muscles of his strong arms underneath the fabric.

"These pants are far too heavy. Why are you so partial to pants like these?" he asks, remembering my request from my very first day in the palace.

I shrug. "I just like them."

He smiles at me, shaking his head a bit. He walks over my closet, not asking if it's all right to open it. "We need something to hold your pants up or it's going to be a very scandalous evening. Well, more so than it already is." Peeta pulls out a dark-red sash and returns to me with it, lacing it through my belt loops. I can't say why, but this feels meaningful. My heart pounds, and for a minute I wonder if he can hear it shouting how much I love him. If so, he ignores it in favor of the business at hand. "Listen," he says, making a little knot in the sash, "what we're doing is very dangerous. If something happens, I want you to run. Don't even try to get back to the palace. Find a family who will hide you through the night."

Peeta steps back and looks into my worried eyes. I tilt my head. "Right now, asking a family to hide me is almost as dangerous as facing the rebels. People might be upset that we girls aren't leaving the competition."

"If the article Glimmer showed you is right, then people might be proud of you."

I want to tell Peeta I disagree, but a knock at the door interrupts us. He goes over to answer it, and quickly Gale and a second guard walk into my dimly lit room.

"Your Majesty," Gale says with a small bow. "Lady Katniss has informed me that you need to get outside the palace walls."

Peeta sighs deeply. "Yes. And I hear you're the man to help me. Officer . . ." He looks for Gale's badge. "Hawthorne."