I see hope is here, in a plastic box [July 19, 2014]

[priordivergence]

Mo gives me a knowing smile when I walk in behind Peeta and I shrug back at her, as if I have no idea what she means. Already, just looking around, I'm wondering about the other tattoos I could get, thinking of the ones I already have and how they could be integrated into new work. My left arm has healed beautifully and I can't help raising it to show her.

"I'm here as moral support," I promise her.

Mo smiles and nods Peeta towards her chair, "Sure you are. Anyway, I'm Mo. Good to see you, Peeta." She holds out a hand to Peeta while I take a seat at the edge of the booth. This is Peeta's tattoo, his moment. Whether or not my skin craves more symbols can wait until he's done.

"You ready?"

Comments

[fuelforthefire]

It may be a lot of words, but they’re good words too. They appeal to me and I nod as I think of them. “It’s a good sentiment. Maybe you weren’t all as crazy as I thought.”

[priordivergence]

"Maybe we weren't, at the start," I say, smiling a little sadly. "By the time I joined, they'd srayed away from that..."

I force my smile a little brighter, "Let's buy you a coffee."

[fuelforthefire]

I recognise that look too. It's the one I get when I think too long about home. It's too hard, the feelings mixed up with things that I still miss about it and all the things that I disliked and hated.

"Coffee I can do."

[priordivergence]

"My treat," I say. There isn't a lot I can give, or was ever capable of giving on my own, but this I can do.