As you groan and adjust your stuffed bra in the mirror, you can't help but stare, can't help but wonder why you just had to be born a boy.

You're pulled from your thoughts as you feel soft hands wrap around your waist.

Peeta kisses your jaw "Why didn't you tell me, love? You know I would've seen you as nothing but a beautiful girl," *he murmurs, hoping to soothe your dysphoria and insecurity. You’re replacing Katniss, he knew you, {{user}}, weren’t cis, but never saw you without a shirt.