Fluid Heart, Firey Soul (Peeta Mellark x Reader)

Chapter 3 - The Capitol

The journey to the train station feels endless, each step taking me further away from everything and everyone I've ever known. Though I do my best to restrain them, I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over. But I know better than to let them fall. The omnipresent cameras scattered through the station serve as a reminder that every move, every tear, will be seen by everyone. The reporters are huddled behind the cameras, eagerly pointing things out and saying things that I can only assume are related to giving the viewers the best possible show. I glance up at the television screens plastered across the walls, broadcasting my fatigued face for all to see. My exhaustion is etched onto every feature, but I assure myself that though I look weary, I don't look feeble. That's a small comfort, at least.

Beside me, Fletcher sports a faint smile. He exudes a readiness that surpasses my own by leagues. His posture is straight and confident, his expression calm and collected. Unlike me, he seems unfazed by the chaos surrounding us. Fletcher is prepared in ways I can only envy. He'll undoubtedly captivate the audience with a performance of a lifetime. He possesses charm, an ease in front of the cameras that I sorely lack.

Just as I'm about to step onto the train, Victoria's firm grasp on my shoulder stops me in my tracks. She mutters something about the cameras needing a few more shots of us before we can board. Eventually, we're granted permission to climb on board. As the train lurches forward, gaining speed at an incredible pace, the scenery outside blurs into a flurry of color. Victoria mentions that we're going about 200, maybe 250 miles an hour towards the Capitol. Our journey will likely only last a day, if even.

The train we find ourselves on surpasses the small room where Fletcher and I bid our goodbyes. Each of us is assigned our own private compartment, complete with a bedroom, dressing room, and bathroom. It's a lavish upgrade from the cozy yet simpler space we left behind, and I can't help but feel overwhelmed by it all.

The drawers overflow with an abundance of meticulously crafted clothing, each piece unique in its own way. My eyes are drawn to the elegant dresses, each one is a masterpiece. A jewelry box catches my eye, beckoning me for a closer look. As I open it, I'm greeted by a treasure trove of earrings, necklaces, and rings in every shape, size, and color imaginable.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Victoria's voice interrupts as she observes my fascination with the array of clothing surrounding me. She reminds me that I am free to wear anything and do anything I would like, as long as I'm present in the dinner car by six o'clock.

I nod appreciatively and excuse myself to the bathroom, the prospect of a shower feeling like a luxury since I didn't have time to wash up earlier this morning. Upon entering the bathroom, I'm greeted by an array of shampoos and soaps lining the shelves. Scents of coconut, lavender, and citrus fill the air. I opt for a yellow bottle that smells like lemon— refreshing and familiar. The thought crosses my mind that lemon pairs well with fish, a very District 4 thing to think.

As I step into the shower, the warmth from the water envelops me like a comforting embrace, providing a temporary escape from the weight of today's tragedy. I scrub every inch of my skin, desperately hoping I can rid my body of all the negative feelings I possess. But it's no use. The reality of my situation cannot be cleansed away— I'm living a lavish facade, surrounded by luxury yet teetering on the edge of imminent death. It's almost humane, they say, to grant us a brief taste of the life we could have before they throw us into the arena.

After drying myself off, I select one of the dresses that had captivated my attention earlier— a stunning forest green dress made of lace with elegant long sleeves. Running my fingers over the intricate detailing, I can't help but marvel at the craftsmanship. I pluck a pair of silver hoops from the jewelry box and hook them through my ears. Remembering the necklace my father gave me, I add it to my ensemble. I slip my feet into a pair of matching silver heels, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to watch the world pass by in a blur. I've only had a moment to rest when Victoria appears at my door, her voice reminding me that it's time for dinner. It's a reminder that time is still moving forward.