A/N
Hey guys, this is my first Hunger Games fanfiction. I always wanted to write one for this amazainggg Trilogy but I never had an idea and then I DID :o Yay ! Lol. Anywho , I reallly really actually wish and hope you enjoy this verrry much !
Also , Sadllly , I don't own the Hunger Games and I'm not Suzanne Collins eeddderr )': *Goes and cries* But i dooo own OC and the plot . [:
Oh, and one more thing and then you can reaad. The first few chapters will be sort of Mr Mellark and Mrs Everdeen~ish . But don't worry, it'll change.
Enjoii ~

A tranquil exhale heavy in relief sways out from my mouth as I lay eyes on a towering and shady oak in the quiet, lazy park of the town. I sink down into the long soft grass beneath the tree's collection of green leafy arms, resting my head on the moist trunk.

It's near the end of January in midafternoon. Even though it's still winter, a thin blanket of warmth wraps me in a serene stupor, a cool breeze lacing like waves in the air. I embrace the occasional sound of birds chirping up at the blazing sun hanging frozen in the clear blue sky.

Mom and Dad had granted Zion and me a day off from our apothecary shop, the family business my great-great grandfather established, in return of concocting a homemade remedy on our own. Zion had completed a chalky powder that turned into a light green goop when you poured hot water onto it last night so he could spend this whole day out with his friends. He says it cools down bug bite rashes. We have enough of those kinds of brews.

I shrug off the brown leather bag Mom had purchased for me for my fourteenth birthday just a few weeks ago. It's very smooth and has an authentic gold piece inlaid on the surface with "Ethelyn Chadwick" in graceful swoops stenciled in. I always beg Mom to tell me where she had gotten it, but she refuses to spill her confidential secret. But wherever she had bought it from, I love it and I take it with me everywhere.

I pull out the pieces of blank paper woven into a small and thin book out of my bag along with a pink pencil that had costed me a lot at the supply shop near my family's healing place. I try to think about what sort of salve I could come up with but all that approaches my mind is the repentance of wasting most of my free day at the Donner's sweet shop.

Pulling my sandaled feet underneath my bum, I rap my pencil against my fresh sheet of paper.
Maybe a balm to rid cold sores? Or a grainy scrub to fade the pink bumps I see on so many faces at school? That would smell lovely with apricots and jasmines…

"Etheyln?"

I feel a burning rosy color cloud my cheeks as I slowly lift my eyes from my paper, making an effort to relax the wrinkles forming in between my brows.

Smiling down at me, Troy Mellark extends a hand in my direction.

I take his hand and almost gape at the amazement of the softness and warmth of his palm, bringing myself up to my feet. I shyly greet, "Hi Troy." The familiar sizzling and fluttery sensation boiling at the pit of my stomach conjures inside of me like every other time I see Troy. I internally scream in excitement from the touch of his skin.

He glances at the messy scribbles sprawled across the page in my free hand then brings his sparkling blue eyes back to me. "Of course you'd be at the park on a gorgeous day like this."

Sheepishly nodding, I bend down to stuff all of my things back into my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. "Well what brings you here?"

Troy laughs lightly and answers, "I was looking for you."

A small gasp leaks from my mouth as I register of what he just remarked. The slight shock must be displayed on my face because Troy quickly utters, "Don't worry; I don't stalk you or anything."

"No, it's not that—" He was looking for me? What for? I feel so crass and embarrassed for blurting out, "What do you want?"

I suddenly realize that our fingers are still intertwined and I'm the first to let go when Troy affirms with a grin, "Just follow me."

He grabs my hand again and gently tugs me to his side, taking my bag and shrugging it onto his own broad shoulder that isn't brushing against mine. "You don't mind, do you?" His breath smells like berries and the spots that his skin is grazing on my arm tingles with his heat.

I lower my eyes to the grass we're strolling on transform into asphalt. "Of course," I stammer. "Thank you."

"It's all to the good," Troy breathes, drawing me closer to him as we approach the lanes of shops of the town.

A balmy blush washes onto my face when we pass Zion and his cluster of friends whiz by us. An even darker red burns my cheeks as we walk by the Donner's sweet shop and I catch Maysilee and Iliana pause at the big window of their shop to gawk at us with giggles. I shoot them a giddy expression.

"Where are you taking me?" I question in a declarative tone after seeing a bunch of girls from school stop walking to glare at us.

"We're almost there," Troy reassures me, the corners of his remarkably full lips rising.

We march past Suzette Prescott, an obtuse snob in my English and Gym class, who raises her eyebrows in shock and flares her nose in enragement at our unnecessary more than usually close appearance.

"Well hello there Troy!" She practically snarls in a bark from behind us.

"Heyyyyy," Troy pauses our walk briefly to spin us around and take a few steps toward Suzette. "You know Ethelyn, right?" He turns his head toward me and gives me a tummy flustering flop of a grin.

Taking advantage of Troy not looking at her, Suzette slits her round azure eyes at me than quickly replaces her glowering scowl with a charming beam when Troy brings his attention back to her. "Of course I do, my clothing store is right across from her—" She stops talking to squeeze a nauseating bogus titter into her squeal of a sentence. "—I forgot what it's called!" She meekly shrugs as she bats her lashes.

It's a true waste really; that such a foul personality was released onto such a pretty girl. Suzette is a very appealing person, I'll give her that, but as soon as you start conversing with her you wish you hadn't; terribly vulgar and hostile and abundant in unintelligible insults to spit at Seam kids or girls who messed with her main squeeze, who was Troy Mellark at the moment. Let's just say that Suzette and I aren't the bestest of friends.

"Apothecary," Completes Troy. "Try to remember it." He places his hand onto the small of my back and I faintly flinch at the touch as he turns us around to carry on our amble.

I swivel my head around to give Suzette a smug smirk right on time because when I turn my head back around, we're in the Mellark's bakery.

The sweltering heat of the place feels delicious dancing on my skin and the mouthwatering aroma snaking into my nose makes me swallow, harshly reminding me that all I ate today was a few saltwater taffies at the Donner's.

Troy steers me past the counter to the door in the room full of scorching ovens that leads up to his house.

Mr. Mellark appears from outside of the backdoor and a smile etches onto his lips. "Well hello there Ethelyn, have you parents sent you here for those raspberry turnovers I'm baking right now?"

Even though I know he's joking, I return a genuine grin, peering at the hearths cooking delightful goodness. "Actually, my mom wanted some of those poppy seed muffins you made for us the other day."

"Of course, of course," Mr. Mellark claps his hands together. "I'll go get started on them." He disappears into the huge pantry.

Snickering, Troy wrenches open the door and leads me up the stairs, talking about how I'm going to love what he dragged me here for.

I have never really been to the Mellark's house before—unless my mother decided to bring me with her when Mrs. Mellark invited her for tea, or for rare dinners. Other than that, the thought was never really even to come to mind.

"Go sit down in the living room, I'll be right back," He exits to where I think the kitchen is.

I step into the living room and sit down onto the blue couch, sighing as the cushions eat me up. I gaze at the small TV set up on a table beside the fireplace. On the mantle, there are a whole slew of pictures. I stand up to observe the display and coo at a photo of Troy and his younger sister Danika.

She comes out from nowhere.

"Is that you Ethelyn?"

My eyes land on the tall and kind Mrs. Mellark, who's fastening on an apron and rubbing at her drowsy looking face.

"Hello Mrs. Mellark," I say, taking my hands from the photograph. "How are you?"

She beams at me and says," I'm just fine! Has Troy brought you here?" She chuckles at my nod. "Well, you'll love it!" She makes her way over to the door that Troy and I had just come from. Hand still on the knob, she adds, "Oh, and by the way, if you have a chance, could you tell your mother that I need some cream to rid of these horrid circles underneath my eyes."

"First thing I'll do when I get home."

"Thank you sweetie," She leaves, shutting the door tightly behind her.

I park back onto the plush sofa and hum as I wait for Troy to come in. What's taking him so long?

I'm about to go into the kitchen to see if he has secretly ditched me but stop when I hear a rustle and a, "Cover your eyes Ethelyn!"

Scurrying back to where I should be lounging, I plop down and mask my face with my hands, my middle and forefinger parting as I spy on Troy poking his head in from the kitchen doorway.

"Hey!" He shouts. "Cover your eyes!"

"But I am!" I insist in a muffled murmur as I reluctantly close up the space my fingers had created. I strain to listen to Troy's footfalls, wondering what it is he wants to show me.

"Okay, just a second, I—" His footsteps come closer to me and finally stop with a grunt of approval. I think he just positioned something on the coffee table in front of me. "Alright, just give me another minute." His loud footsteps fade and I'm just itching to peek what's right before of me when Troy comes back and proclaims, "Open them!"

I gasp in disbelief and pure jubilance. It's petite, but it's perfect! Creamy pink icing, pearl white lace dusted in what looks like silver sparkles, pale blue sugary roses, and pastel green strokes resembling that lax pasture grass I love coating the bottom. Troy has prepared and frosted me a cake!

"It's chocolate," He informs with a shy smile before I could ask.

"It's, it's, it's—Thank you Troy!" What I do is so unexpected that even I'm stunned of the abrupt movement jumping from my body. I wrap Troy into a sudden hug and press a kiss on his cheek. Grasping of what I had just performed, I hastily pull away and drop my eyes down at the dazzling cake, another visit of the undesirable deep rubicund curtaining my face. "Why did you do this?" I stutter.

"Uhm, uh," Troy fumbles with something he has in his hand. "I never got you anything for your birthday. Sorry it's so late." He reaches at my side and grabs my hand, lying whatever he was toying with in my palm.

I stare at the tiny ivory box resting on the plane of my fingers. It has a lilac ribbon secured into a bow lying on top. My eyes cautiously trail up at Troy who's just as red as me and trying not to make this moment anymore awkward than it already is, I say, "Oh, Troy you didn't have to do this. Thank you sooo much!" I smile sheepishly at the grin taking over his flushed complexion and gaze back down at the gorgeous cake he had made for me. "How did you do it?"

"Oh, that?" He chuckles. "I'll teach you some time."

"You'd do that?" I almost screech, my eyebrows arching in eager interest.

Troy takes in my jittery expression and exclaims, "Yeah!"

"But, I can't eat that—" I point at the cake. "—all by myself."

Picking up a dark pink box people get their baked goods delivered in from out of nowhere, Troy lowers the cake into it, closing the lid shut and tucking the case underneath his arm. I blink at the ripple of his muscles as he flexes his biceps.

"Be a good girl and share it with your family," He playfully scolds in a low throaty voice.

"I will not!" I squeal in an equally bouncy tone.

"Do you want me to get the belt?" He roars.

We both break into a teary laughter, clutching at our sides, or in Troy's case, side, at how pathetic and lame our joke was. But I didn't care about how stupid I had sounded, Troy was okay with it.

He grabs my bag and takes my empty hand in his. "Now may I have the permission to walk you home?" He requests in a funny drawl.

As we march toward the door, I say, "Yes you do." I smile at myself as I temporarily take a glimpse of our entangled fingers.

The trek soars by way too swiftly, and right before Troy opens the door of my family's shop, he gently presses his crazily soft lips against mine, pulls back with a charming smirk, and says, "That's payback for the lousy one you teased me with. Happy late birthday." He sets my things onto the sidewalk and vanishes into the bustling street.

I really hope that this was enjoyable enough to read ! Reviews and suggestions are greatly welcomed

Much love -UnintendedPaperCut

xox