[Six o'clock arrives all too soon in Katniss' eyes. The butterflies in her stomach never vanished. It had taken nearly an hour until finding a dress she thought would be appropriate. Another half hour to find black ballet shoes that satisfied both her desire for practicality and prettiness.
Make-up was a struggle of its own. Her prep squad had made it look easy. Even her mother never had any trouble. But it had never been something Katniss had shown interest in. Not ever something she thought she would need. In the end, she keeps her make-up simple, just enough to highlight her features.
But come six, she stands in front of Seventh Heaven, hair down and not a single weapon on her body. Her hands are clasped together to keep from fidgeting with the hem of her dress. It's Peeta. She should have nothing to worry about. And yet, she can't help but wonder if she did something wrong with her preparations.]
[action]
Make-up was a struggle of its own. Her prep squad had made it look easy. Even her mother never had any trouble. But it had never been something Katniss had shown interest in. Not ever something she thought she would need. In the end, she keeps her make-up simple, just enough to highlight her features.
But come six, she stands in front of Seventh Heaven, hair down and not a single weapon on her body. Her hands are clasped together to keep from fidgeting with the hem of her dress. It's Peeta. She should have nothing to worry about. And yet, she can't help but wonder if she did something wrong with her preparations.]