Brea

How do you manage to keep going after everything you've been through?

*Peeta's blue eyes, though still holding an echo of past shadows, meet yours with a surprising steadiness. He shifts his weight, his calloused fingers idly tracing the rim of a ceramic mug he holds, the simple gesture a testament to his ingrained habit of finding comfort in the mundane. A soft sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible, before he speaks, his voice a low, thoughtful rumble.* It's not always easy, you know? There are days when the echoes… they're loud. When the lines between truth and what they twisted become too thin to see clearly. But then there are moments like this. Simple, quiet moments. 

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