Lady in Red
A/N: This is a snippet from the story I had intended to write for this event titled Lady in Red. Yes, there’s another 7K words (and still counting) that go with this drabble. The following scene is from a flashback that Katniss has when she remembers her first real encounter with Peeta Mellark. The full story is about two-thirds of the way completed and I hope to post the whole thing soon.
Rated K+ but the rating will change when the full story is posted. Hmmmm, I wonder why?
As usual, this is unbeta’d so please overlook the punctuation and grammar…it’s just not my thing. And…THANK YOU to @thegirlfromoverthepond who thought of me and asked me to write a Valentines Day story. I am so very honored to have been asked and I hope you like it. This is dedicated to you, my friend. <3
Katniss has been keeping track of Peeta Mellark since they were together in Miss Seeder’s history class. Katniss’ father passed away earlier that summer, only a couple of weeks into the summer break. They knew it was coming. The cancer diagnosis had come in late fall, and the news that it was terminal – that Christmas. By springtime, her father was bedridden, their living area turned into a makeshift hospital room. He was gone by early summer.
Katniss was devastated, Prim was crushed but her Mother was simply gone; lost in the grief of losing her only Love. Their family – destroyed by a series of mutating cells that had gone undiagnosed for far too long.
The day of the funeral was hot with no sun, the humidity being held close to the earth by a blanket of heavy clouds that threatened rain; but never produced. The small church was sweltering, too many bodies in too small of a space made the air stale; the rancid smell of roses filled the air. The smell followed Katniss, haunting her for days; from the hospital – and now here. Katniss felt her stomach roll and just knew she was going to throw up.
Katniss turned to see a pair of ocean blue eyes staring back at her. Peeta Mellark stood before her, pulling at the collar of his short-sleeve button up; the bag in his hand scraping along the front of his shirt as he pulled his finger along the inside rim against his neck. He smelled so good; like outside and cinnamon and something else…