[I’m starting to work on some Peeta&Katniss outfits, so here’s #1 from their first interview]
About this outfit:
The team works on me until late afternoon, turning my skin to glowing satin, stenciling patterns on my arms, painting flame designs on my twenty perfect nails. Then Venia goes to work on my hair, weaving strands of red into a pattern that begins at my left ear, wraps around my head, and then falls in one braid down my right shoulder. They erase my face with a layer of pale makeup and draw my features back out. Huge dark eyes, full red lips, lashes that throw off bits of light when I blink. Finally, they cover my entire body in a powder that makes me shimmer in gold dust.
<…>
I can feel the silken inside as they slip it down over my naked body, then the weight. It must be forty pounds. I clutch Octavia’s hand as I blindly step into my shoes, glad to find they are at least two inches lower than the pair Effie had me practice in.
<…>
My dress is entirely covered in reflective precious gems, red and yellow and white with bits of blue that accent the tips of the flame design. The slightest movement gives the impression I am engulfed in tongues of fire.
<…>
The dress hangs in such a way that I don’t have to lift the skirt when I walk, leaving me with one less thing to worry about.
<…>
Peeta looks striking in a black suit with flame accents. While we look well together, it’s a relief not to be dressed identically.
“You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.” Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.
You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces. What I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.”
What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.
