Peeta ~ You'll make it

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I sort out all of my make up to display in front of the counter. My tribute should be here any minute.

A knock rings out on the door.

"Come in" I don't look up, I know whose at the door.

"Hey, you're "Y/n) right? My stylist?" The man asks.

"That would be me!" I turn away from the counter to face my tribute.

"Peeta right?" I ask, I reach my hand out for him to shake.

"Yeah, that's me" His face turns slightly red before his hand meets mine.

"You can just take a seat." I point to the table.

"So what even happens for me right now?" He asks.

"Well you need to shave, get a haircut, a few other things. Why?" I question.

"Just wondering" Peeta swings his legs back and forth.

"Sit still for just a second."

"Sorry! It's just boring sitting here"

"Ohh am I boring to you?" I ask with a laugh.

"No! Not in the slightest!" Peeta rushes our nervously.

"No it's fine. I'm sorry"

"Why are you sorry?" Peeta asks.

It's hard for me to not look him in the eyes being so close to me. I try to focus on not cutting him with the blade. I pull the blade away from him and look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry that you ended up here. Some people claim they're happy to be here, the even volunteer, but they don't really wanna be there. I'm sorry Peeta." I place a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," Peeta gulps, "But why are you sorry? Aren't you from the Capitol? Don't you just love The Games.

I begin to cut Peeta's hair, just a little trim. Something to make him a little more Capitol-like.

"No, just because I'm from the Capitol doesn't mean that I'm for the games. I was raised to love it, but it's never been something I believed in."

"Wow"

I grab Peeta's face, to make it center so I can check if the trim is even.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Peeta stutters, he must be nervous because I'm grabbing his face.

"Checking if it's even" I tug at the ends of his hair.

"Ohh" Peeta's face falls.

"Almost done I swear!" Peeta laughs.

"You said that earlier." Peeta grins.

"Okay well do you wanna look good for the parade?" I ask, I hem the bottom of his pants because they were a little too long.

"Do you think I'll do okay?" Peeta asks.

"With the parade? Yeah you'll be-"

"No, during the games. Do you think I'll be okay." Peeta looks at me, hoping for an honest answer.

I rest my hands on his shoulders.

"Honestly, it's what you make it. How you physically is just as important as mentally. You need to understand that this is a game. A life or death game. You'll need a strategy. You'll make it."

"Thank you (Y/n)"

"Anytime Peeta. I'm going to be here for you during this whole process."

"Really?"

"Yeah my rooms in the same penthouse." I smile, "Okay it's time."

"Okay, I'll see you later?" Peeta asks.

"Yes you will. Good luck!" I push Peeta towards the chariot.

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