One-Shot: What It Feels Like
For some reason, Peeta Mellark is always jumpy when I come in the bakery.
But only through the front door. Whenever I enter off the back loading dock to trade squirrels, he has been perfectly natural and sweet. Those might seem like odd adjectives for describing a wrestler in school, but he is sweet nonetheless.
Today is my sister Primrose's birthday, so we have both donned our best dresses (which we only ever wear to the Reaping for the Hunger Games) to celebrate. My gift to her is a giant cupcake with sprinkles from Mellark's Bakery. I've been saving up weeks for it.
Upon seeing us, Peeta smiles knowingly. "Happy Birthday, Primrose," he smiles kindly. I am shocked and actually touched that he remembers.
Prim eagerly picks out her cupcake. As Peeta move behind the counter to wrap it, we engage in small talk. I am by nature a fairly anti-social person, taciturn at best. But something about Peeta makes me speak easily.
"Was that you fooling around with Quincy Becker at the Slag Heap? I hear you kissed him," Peeta suddenly inquires.
I flush crimson, even though I am innocent, and scowl. "Quincy's a big fat liar. I've never been to the Slag Heap. Why would you think that of me?"
"I don't," Peeta backpedals. "It's just, you know... people talk."
"People are stupid," I grumble. "I've never even kissed anyone in my life..." I don't know why I feel the need to divulge this fact to Peeta, but I do.
Peeta finishes bagging the cupcake and presents it to Prim with a playful bow. Prim giggles and accepts it shyly, stepping away from the counter to let me pay. But when I dig for the coins jingling wonderfully in the pocket folds of my dress, Peeta stays my hand.
"On me today."
I frown, my eyebrows furrowed. "But what can I pay you with? I have to owe you something..."
"You don't owe me anything," Peeta smiles.
He's wrong. All trades have to be fair, never one-sided. I know that better than most. What can I pay him with, if not in coins.
Our conversation gives me a flash of inspiration. I glance furtively about. Prim is looking out the window, and no one is coming up the street. Peeta's family is bustling in the back and nowhere in sight, especially not the Witch - his mother who supposedly beats her own sons.
Before I lose my nerve and before I anyone sees, I snatch Peeta by the shirt collar and pull him across the counter. I slam my lips against his in a deep, sensuous kiss.
He tastes like flour and yeast. Smells like freshly baked bread, and I dare to close my eyes in pleasure. I slip my tongue along his mouth for only a moment...
And then I spring back, fearful that someone might walk in at any moment. Peeta looks flabbergasted and elated.
"What was that for?"
I shrug, trying to act non-chalant. "Just to see what it feels like." Prim turns around at that exact moment, suspecting nothing, as I take her hand and lead her out the door, leaving a dazed Peeta in my wake.
He doesn't see me lick my lips or how my mouth slowly curves into a smile.