(no subject)
Both feet are planted in the sand.
He has cargo pants on despite the heat, not ready to show his leg off to the whole island. Its presence would lead to questions he wasn't quite ready for. These people, this place was so different from everything he has ever known. The quiet could be deafening, the lack of tension and hurt, the absence of fear.
This was the sort of place people back home would dream about. The sort of fairy tale that District 13 was supposed to be.
The past two years has taught Peeta that fairy tales are just that. They are stories made up to calm and soothe, too distract from all the bad things and keep people subdued. He knew that he had spilled more than his fair share, built up a story that never stood a chance of being real in the name of a game. Staying alive was easier here, but that didn't make him trust it.
He wanted to, though. It had been a long time since he had wanted something in just this way.
Feet planted in the sand, he wiggled the toes on his foot imagining what it would feel like under both. The replacement foot was good, but it wasn't fully his. He would never have that feeling again.
Hands in his pockets he stared calmly out at the water. It was beautiful. It really was. He would have liked to see more of the ocean at District 4 but there hadn't been the time. Now all he had was time. Time and more questions than he could ever get answers.
For now there was just the water and too much going on in his head. Right now he would have made an excellent sitting duck.
He has cargo pants on despite the heat, not ready to show his leg off to the whole island. Its presence would lead to questions he wasn't quite ready for. These people, this place was so different from everything he has ever known. The quiet could be deafening, the lack of tension and hurt, the absence of fear.
This was the sort of place people back home would dream about. The sort of fairy tale that District 13 was supposed to be.
The past two years has taught Peeta that fairy tales are just that. They are stories made up to calm and soothe, too distract from all the bad things and keep people subdued. He knew that he had spilled more than his fair share, built up a story that never stood a chance of being real in the name of a game. Staying alive was easier here, but that didn't make him trust it.
He wanted to, though. It had been a long time since he had wanted something in just this way.
Feet planted in the sand, he wiggled the toes on his foot imagining what it would feel like under both. The replacement foot was good, but it wasn't fully his. He would never have that feeling again.
Hands in his pockets he stared calmly out at the water. It was beautiful. It really was. He would have liked to see more of the ocean at District 4 but there hadn't been the time. Now all he had was time. Time and more questions than he could ever get answers.
For now there was just the water and too much going on in his head. Right now he would have made an excellent sitting duck.