It was the same dress. That dress.

8 years ago, at the fashion school prom

It was the prom night, and Portia didn't have anything to wear. How ironic, a fashion student having nothing to wear. After spending all her time on this never-ending project, she had completely forgotten about it. Desperately, she rushed around her flat, searching for some easy dress she could get made at one of the clothes shops. Much as she hated to admit it, there just wasn't time for her to prepare herself and make the dress...

"This should have something useful in it!" It was a portfolio from when she was about fourteen, when she'd suddenly had this obsession over princesses from many centuries ago. Quickly flipping through each design, she picked out the simplest one and adjusted the measurings to fit her. It wasn't as impressive as her more recent designs, but it was simple and easy and it worked for tonight. She didn't feel like going as the big-bang of the world, she felt like going as Portia, the stylist-in-training, who could weave magical designs, but who didn't feel the need for attention to be dragged directly to her. Her life was what she designed. She grabbed the design from the portfolio, her bag, and races down to the design shop, paying extra for the complex design and the short deadline, which made the grumpy shopkeeper a bit more willing. Not having time for any observing of the current fabrics that were being sold (she did that enough anyway), Portia ran back to her flat, slamming the door accidentally behind her. Faster than the speed of light, she was in her bathroom. Her shower lasted less than ten minutes. Applying makeup to herself with expert precision, she knew time was ticking away.

Why was she even that bothered about it, anyway?

Well, Portia knew she would get ideas and inspiration from seeing all of the different styles in one room - most people designed their own clothing for special events here. Also, she had a distinct feeling tickling at the back of her mind: tonight she would find her opposite, and her partner. Not normally being one for superstitions, this confused her greatly. Deciding the only way to cure the cat's curiousity would be to go, she made her decision.

Then the project came up, and her mind was taken away. Having only been reminded by a note sent through the student post earlier that day, when she was out fabric-shopping, it came to her as a gigantic shock. Still, Portia never backed down to a challenge, and therefore was where she is now.

Having her makeup finished, she got to work on her dark, unpredicatble hair. Grabbing it where it ended, a little bit underneath her shoulders, she started twisting it into the right hairstyle, the one she had specified on the drawing she did as a fourteen-year-old. Otherwise, she's miss the prom trying to work out how to have her hair. Fishing around in her nearby hair-accesories bag, she found the ornament she needed. It was a thin, gold hairband that had little glowing spots around it. It was her child cousin's (now deceased) last gift to her. Portia knew to treasure it no matter what. With her hair now securely in the fashion she'd planned, she finished it off with the hairband. Throwing on a hoodie and hurling a cream pair of pumps into her bag, she ran back to the shop, where they had her dress nearly finished.

"Thank you for completing it on such short-notice." her breathless reply to when the shopkeeper passed it over was the only response she seemed capable off.

Tick tock goes the clock...

There was no time for her to return to her flat... besides, she didn't like crowded places if she could avoid them, so she'd opted against a limousine, and instead made the way to the prom hall by foot. Arriving with minutes to spare, she edged around the hall into the dark changing rooms. Quickly, she switched on a light to the silent, deserted area, before kicking open the door to a cubicle and getting inside. It was suprisingly simple and 21st-century-like, which was to Portia's advantage as she nimbly slipped inside the dress.

Obviously, a perfect fit.

The dress itself was simple, sleeveless and 3/4 length down her legs. It sparkled in the light, as a cream-almost-gold colour. There was a slightly-darker coloured warp-around on her waist, that connected through a shining gem in the middle. Quickly, Portia tied the neck wrap-around to herself. It was made of the same fabric as the dress, a simple strip, and sparkled just as brightly. As her feet entered the similarly-coloured pumps, she looked at the mirror to check herself.

She wasn't pretty. She wasn't fashionable. She was stunning, in the way that the princesses in the olden days looked, and as she did now, in a slightly more modern way. Spinning around, she grinned. It worked. It was perfect.

When she stepped out into the hall where the prom was being held, the only reaction came from a group of snobby girls who all hated Portia harder than they could whack a mole. They all sniggered, pointed, thought it looked stupid, old, and childish, and generally Portia got the impression they didn't like it.

Whatever.

She ignored them, as she had been doing for the last few years of her life, and walked up to a table, taking a glass of water from there. Not wanting to draw too much attention to herself, she walked over to the side and observed. This was how she got further than most; observing others mistakes rather than making your own, using them to inspire herself. It was almost cruel, the way she waited for others to fail so she could succeed. Except it wasn't. It was actually called 'intelligence' and 'being wise'. Of which, many stylists had nothing of. After a few hours of taking in everyone's fashions and storing them in her memory-banks, she felt like a breath of cool, fresh air would do her good. There was a staircase nearby - one that Portia knew led to a balcony. She'd sneaked up there before, although it would be slightly harder in this dress. At least she wasn't wearing 10-inch-high heels!

Once up, she made her way to the edge, closed her eyes, and let her face embrace the warm summer evening air. It was a calming pleasure of life, something that brought only joy to one's self.

Suddenly, she could sense there was someone behind her. Opening her eyes, and spinning around, she immediately knew who it was from the brilliantly-designed clothes:

The originality

The complexity

The colour

Portia's eyes met those of Cinna's. She admired his work and skill (and secretly, the man himself too) on a regular basis. It was amazing. Nobody could get any results quite as fantastic as him.

"Hello." Cinna's short and sweet greeting left his lips. A simple gesture as they stood there. He gave her a little bow, obviously also knowing of the traditions of royalty in the olden days. She curtsied out of respect, and they both grinned, on the same thought wave-length, before she quietly giggled.

"Hey, you're Cinna, aren't you?" obviously he was Cinna. Both of them had spotted the moments she would stare at his work in pure adoration, and the way she was always trying to partner with Cinna for any double-person project, but always would lose and be the odd-one-out, destined to be no-one's partner.

"Of course." He smiled at her, before gesturing to her dress, "Did you design this?"

"Um... yes, I did, but I was fourteen at the time." She paused, before rushing the next few words, "Obviously my work is a lot better now though!"

Cinna, almost with the same look a wise man would have on his face, nodded

"You were a very talented fourteen-year-old, then. I've seen your current work - I think it works well. You are talented still, Portia." at any other moment, Portia would have immediately questioned how he knew of her name. However, at the current point in time, she was too amazed that Cinna, the Cinna, liked her work! He even thought she was talented! Portia could've died there and then. He suddenly got down into a bow, and held out his arm in the most graceful way she'd ever seen, "Would you care to dance?"

Yep, Portia thought to herself, she could've died right then and there, and she'd have been satisfied with life. Taking a deep breath, she was able to muster up the strength required to utter

"Yes. Oh, yes please!" Cinna led Portia back downstairs, as the soulmates shared both their first true meeting and their first dance. Towards the end, Cinna whispered quietly into Portia's ear:

"Portia, would you like to work with me as partner stylists from now on?" Teenage Portia nearly fainted in excitement. All that was rushing through her head was 'AHHH OMG OMG OMG DON'T DIE HE WANTS AN ALLIANCE WITH ME! YAY! YES, YES, YES!'. Barely containing herself, she just about managed to reply

"It would be my absolute pleasure!"

When Portia went to sleep that night, she had a smile wider than the earth plastered across her face.

It was another one of the celebrations for Peeta and Katniss' wedding. Both of the stylists has literally worked their socks off to have all of the clothing pitch-perfect. After all, nothing else would do. Only perfection was good enough for the unbeatable duo. Cinna only noticed Portia's late appearance because she was wearing the dress. It wasn't a fantastically amazing dress. It wasn't outstanding to anyone who didn't know the true meaning of it. It was to them, though. It was the dress she wore when they first met...

"Portia!" Cinna nudged his partner-in-fashion-crimes, who happened to luckily be sitting right beside him.

"Cinna?" She looked towards him. No-one seemed to pay any attention to them, they were all fixated on the food or the young couple who were the centre of the whole thing.

"Why are you wearing that dress?"

"What dress?"

"You know what I'm implying..."

"It was the was the easiest one to put on. Besides, I felt like a bit of sentiment was needed. I'll change it if it causes you problems!" Portia looked at Cinna and grinned in the silent amusement that only they could get.

"It's fine, I just wanted to know why specifically that dress." They both sat next to each other in silence, sharing similar, if not the same, thoughts about everything going on.

"Hey, Cinna?"

"Portia?"

"Do you remember when you used to chuck stones at my window until I forced you to move in and pay for all the damage done?"

"That, my fellow stylist, is something I will never forget. Especially your never-ending lecture." He smirked much to her disapproval, and she poked him in return. Back to childish methods.

Bang.

Portia ignored the small collision with her window, and turned over in bed, pulling her duvet over her ears.

Bang.

Bang.

BANG.

"Oh what the hell? Who would be knocking at this time-oh." She muttered to herself, annoyed from being awoken from her doze. Who else, really? Cinna stood at the bottom of the block of flats. When he realised he'd finally awoken her, he gestured madly for her to come down to the floor where he was. "No frickin' way, Cinna! It's two in the morning, and I haven't had any sleep in days!" Looking at her with upset puppy eyes, he began to walk slowly away... but slow enough so if she changed her mind, he would be able to race back. Determined not to give in, Portia watched him. Evnetually, however, she broke, and called back down: "Oh, alright, but just this once!"

Just this once turned out to be about ten times, before Portia worked up the nerve to make it stop.

"Cinna, you are going to be moving in with me and paying all the money I've been fined with beecause of the scratched glass your stones have been causing, or you swear on your life that you will never, ever throw anything at my windows ever!" Portia's sudden outburst almost took Cinna by suprise. He almost hadn't been expecting it.

Key word 'almost'.

By the next week, Portia's debts were payed off, and Cinna and Portia had become not only future soulmates, but also current flatmates.

Cinna and Portia listened to the young, engaged couple's speech more intently than anyone else in the room. It was almost a competition - who could listen the most intently? Almost a battle... it brought up the memory of when she first heard of the rebellion, the battle against the Capitol, evil versus good.

"You can't afford friendships like this. You are getting too close, Cinna. She could be your downfall."

"But she's my best friend! Besides, I know for a fact she supports the same things as the rebellion, she just doesn't know of them yet!"

"You have told her?" The pure horror could be heard in President Coin's voice. She was a leader who's highest priority was secrecy in everything she did. If the wrong person knew... everything the rebellion stood for could fall...

"Obviously not-"

"Good. Break the alliance with her before it becomes too much." With that, Coin left. Cinna was left staring at where she'd just been standing. He felt conflicting emotions: Loyalty to the rebellion, and love between himself and Portia. Not specifically romantic love, just the friendship bonds they shared were so strong... He sat down in his flat, unsure of what to do next. What he hadn't realised, however, was Portia had overheard the whole thing. Slightly hurt, she walked up to Cinna, and gave a request that would change her life forever:

"Cinna, tell me about the rebellion..."

Brought back to reality, Portia blinked in suprise. That was years ago now... her mind must be feeling nostalgic. Or it was trying to remember a design, or an idea, that looked similar to something she'd seen. It wasn't important right now though. She'd filed away anything she'd been inspired by at this party, so she let her mind run wild for a while. Cinna was sat there, analyzing everyone's clothing choices and trying to improve it - by pretty much making it unregonizable by the end of his 'process'. Probably.

"Whatcha thinking?" It was her turn to prod him to get his attention... he seemed slightly distracted, as he was fingering part of the blank table cloth.

"Nothing in particular." He looked at her, whilst she quietly took his hand from under the table. Everyone was so similar in the Capitol style, except for the outstanding artwork that was Katniss and Peeta. Most people were chatting at this point, so their interactions didn't seem out of the ordinary. she just let the flashbacks flow:

They were about twenty-one when it finally happened.

"Portia? I've found this beach, it's really quiet and hidden-away, from what I've heard it's really different from the Capitol city center. It sounds... inspirational. Let's take our sketches down there for a few days?" Havving learnt it was easier to go along with Cinna's crazy schemes, Portia simply nodded and got on with the design she was sketching. As soon as she was finished, he took the sketch from her hands, edited it in a way only Cinna could, then returned it. That's how they worked, their life. A few days later, they finally made it to the beach. Having not really thought about how to get there, more focused on the designs, the responsibility of travel fell to Portia, so it took them longer to get there. Wasting no time upon their arrival, the stylists ran - literally - to the beach. It looked beautiful.

The water gently lapped upon the shores. The sand almost looked like gold. It looked nearly untouched - after all, why go to the seaside when you have all the Capitol could offer? Neither could swim, as it was rare for those outside District 4 to be able. After the initial messing around in the sand (just a fashion experiment, just an experiment) they started to stroll up the beach. The sunset was coming upon them, which only increased their enthusisum at the beautiful sight. However, after a while Portia began to slightly shake. Being Capitol citizens, they hadn't prepared for the cold of Panem's beach evenings. Both of them already being quite intimate freinds, even though it was the first time for this sort of contact, it didn't shock Portia when Cinna absentmindedly put his arm around hher and drew them close. She just kept walking onwards. This was their regime for the next few days: wake up before dawn, get sketchpads and sandwiches, go to beach, watch sunrise, sketch all day, stroll along at sunset. On the final day, it was late afternoon, an hour or so before sunset, when Cinna suddenly leaped up in glee

"I've got it!"

Smiling, his comerade got up and patted his shoulder, simply asking "You've got what?"

"The perfect beach design. Close your eyes, Portia, and I'll show you." This is sometimes what they did if one had a mental 'eureka!' moment and wanted to share their idea with the other before they got the sketch done. He led her slowly to where the sea was lapping up at their feet, before holding her close and whispering out his idea.

It was amazing. It was beautiful. And it was, undeniably, Cinna.

"I love it." She breathed out her words in admiration of Cinna and his skill. "I can picture it."

"I can picture you in it... and that, Portia, is one of the most beautiful things I could imagine..." Half-opening their eyes, they stared deeply at each other, and how they'd become so much closer whilst Cinna's idea was being explained... then without warning, they leant in in almost identical fashion...

It was short, sweet and salty from the sea... but it meant more than either could imagine.

"Do you remember that beach trip we took a few years ago? The one with the sand costume?"

"Yeah... I remember that well..." Cinna grinned at Portia, who returned the emotion.

"Gosh... we were so young, and it was only a few years ago?" Her warm joke could only be heard by their ears alone. It would only make sense to them. After a while, Cinna got up, before bowing to Portia:

"Would you care for a dance?" She blushed, before taking his hand and curtseying.

"Why, it would be an honour." Portia held his hand, and they took to the dance floor. Meanwhile, Haymitch, who was thoroughly enjoying the exqusisite choice of alcohol and was quite clearly drunk, happened to spot them and grin, before drunkenly slurring

"Well, finally. I was right, I knew it. And no-one believed me... well, I am the Haymitch, so you'll all believe me from now on, and I think I need to go an' excuse myself, 'cause I'm gonna be sick... I think..." and with that, he legged it from the bar, leaving odd looks in his wake.

It took an hour or so of dancing for Cinna to pluck up the courage to ask Portia the question on his mind

"Portia, could you come outside for a second?" After a brief check that no-one was relying on the stylists' presence at the moment, she nodded and followed him outside. Cinna found a pathway across streets that lead to this garden. It was as private as they could get without getting anyone suspicious of their whereabouts. Portia found it reminded her a lot of their more recent dates, which had become less regular in the important times: the Games, and the Victory Tour.

"We can't let anyone know about, well... us, Cinna. They'd use it as a weapon - you know the Capitol!" Murmuring whilst they both worked on designs, Portia and Cinna conversed. There was no real emotion in their current voices - it was absorbed into the work. That way, no-one except themselves could get hurt.

"I know."

"Then how can... we continue?"

They sat in silence for a few minutes. The only sound that could be heard was the rabbid scratching of pencil against paper.

"I know." Cinna suddenly murmured.

"How?"

"There's this place I know - I'll show you later - and it's as private as you can get."

"'kay, Cinna." And they went back to the warmth of the silence that fell upon them. It had to be dark, apparently, before the young couple could leave for Cinna's hideout, which would become Portia's, too, soon enough. It took many twisty pathways and dark, abandoned alleys before they finally reached their destination.

It, like all of Cinna's other designs, was stunning.

There were little golden globe-lights scattered aroung the edges, so Portia was able to put down the eco-friendly light-stick she'd been using. It was a garden with grass so pure, fresh and green it looked newly-grown. Nothing looked out of place. There was no 'hidden-camera' or anything like that. It was amazing, it was fantastic, inspiring. And it was so obviously, for lack of better word, Cinna.

"Oh Cinna... it's perfect. Thank you." It was their secret hideout of beautiful proportions, where they would spend many of their nights.

The garden they currently resided in was very similar to their hideout, but it didn't quite have the same spark. Nevertheless, it was pretty, even if there was only the light of Cinna's torch reflecting off her sparkling dress. After a quick check no-one was watching, they spent a moment looking deeply into each others eyes. The world seemed to stop and watch eagerly upon the moment; it felt as if only the two of them existed. Breaking the almost mind-connection, he pointed behind her, "Portia, look at that!"

She span round, the dress floating around her, "What? There's nothing there, Ci - Oh my god..." for there, down on one knee before her, was Cinna, holding out a ring with a box.

"Portia, I know we'll probably die soon, so I needed to ask now... will you marry me?" She stood in shock, as one final memory overcame her mind

It was about a year ago, as both of them were twenty-three. It was snowing in the Capitol - a rare occurence, considering how polluted the atmosphere around the city was. Neither Cinna nor Portia had ever seen snow before in their lives, it was that rare. So it was mainly suprise, curiosity, and for design ideas that they went out to a nearby green area, that in the olden days was called a park. After an earlier test, they'd both come wrapped up warm, because they'd want to remember snow for as long as possible and would stay out until it had all disappeared. Calmly, they sat down on a bench, attempting to ignore all the excited citizens - both adults and children - who were having one of the world's largest snowball fights. It must've looked easier than it was, even though they lasted a while outside considering the playfullness everyone was feeling.

The eventual object that convinced them to join in - as mature, senible 23 year-olds - was a snowball to each of their faces by a teenage boy who everyone was getting visibly annoyed at. That's what lured in the catch.

"Cin-NA!" Portia had been in the process of communicating with her best-friend, boyfriend, partner-in-crime and soulmate, all crammed into one person, when it hit her. Literally, this time, not inspiration, she was actually hit with a freezing cold, hard ball of solid wetness.

"Portia?" he turned his head, and that was when snowballer-agent-101 struck. "...oof!" he murmured as he was hit as well. Realising she'd already suffered the same fate, they looked at each other, grinned in a menacing we've-got-a-plan way, got up and put away their portfolios, before scooping up some snow and chucking it at the boy's face. They got clean hits.

"WHAT?" having been missed by everyone's attempts back so far, this suprised him greatly... allowing everyone else to get him back for what he did to them. He ran off shortly after, like a coward.

After that, one of the greatest snowball fights that-made-absolutely-no-sense began. It was a mad flurry of snow in the air, soaking wet Capitol people who looked very odd with their dyed skin having gone closer to their normal tones in places and mad hair falling flat on heads. Quite a sight!

Eventually, even Cinna and Portia turned on one another that became the most ginormous battle of wits, skill and snowballs that anyone had ever seen! Many people helped join one side or the other, simply because it looked like they were having so much fun. It merged into girls vs boys, the typical competition. No-one quite knew what was going on, but most people thought the basics were the two snow-forsts, with an area between named 'no-mans-land', the most original name that came to their capitol-bred minds.

It seemed even... until the girls unleashed their secret weapon, a little girl called Amelie. She looked barely eight, nowhere near the reaping age of twelve, and was young enough to still do the innocent, cute look that everyone would fall for. She had a very competitive streak, however, and easily fooled the boys into thinking she was on their side. Whilst they were attacking the girls, she would quietly slip snow down their backs, making them have to run back to base and also turn on one another. Cinna, having unwillingly been put as leader, was the last one left to be 'snow-backed'. He was the onlyone not being argued with. Alice wandered up to him, all sweet and goody-goody on her face,

"Mr Cinna?"

"Yeah, Alice?"

"My shoe laces came undone, and I can't tie it up. Could you do it for me?" She smiled, all lovely and trustworthy and couldn't-hurt-a-fly...

"Uhhhh..." he paused, thinking briefly about the strange offer. It seemed safe enough, "Okay..."

As soon as he leaned over, Alice brought her hands from behind her back, revealing clumpfulls of snow... and stuffed it right down Cinna's.

At this point, Cinna realised that Alice's shoes were buckled. And they were perfectly fine, all clipped together... which meant...

"You fell for it!" She giggled in an almost evil way, before running back to camp girls, who were all advancing on the boys.

"Oh..." the boys army were all getting snow out of each others' backs and arguing, completely unprepared for the oncoming force.

They were completely screwed.

The battle of snowballs only proved it.

People started leaving, until it was only Portia and Cinna left fighting it out until the very bitter end, whenever that may be. Both were drenched, laughing like the mad people they were, and still trying to win. Eventually, they spent ages on the same spots, bare inches from each other, throwing like crazy, until it became ice... and they slid over onto each other.

This only made them laugh more.

After the giggle-fest of the century, they finally got onto their knees, which was admittedly less cold than their lying in the snow. Worn out from thier day of snowballs and cold, Portia hugged Cinna close, to keep warm through the combined bodyheat.

"You are the most determined person I know, Cinna." She whispered into his coat.

"I'm not going to stop, even if you want me to."

"I don't want you to ever change. I love you just the way you are. So don't you dare go changing on me!" That was the first time she'd ever told him she loved him. They'd both known it, yes, but that was the first time the air could hear them voice their love.

"You know what, Portia? You're pretty damn determined too, so don't you ever change... because I love you just the way you are." A snowflake fell on Portia's nose, which he wiped off. The love between them, not just romantic but also soul-connection, the best-friend love, the caring love, could be felt so strongly it was like the air was a tree that stood taller than all the others, and was impossible to saw or chop down however many ways you tried. It was rooted for more deeply and strongly than anything else. You couldn't change it, you couldn't move it, it would last for all eternity.

It was Portia and Cinna's love.

It was theirs.

"You know what, Cinna? I'm going to say... whenever would I ever, ever say no? Yes, yes, yes!" He slowly put the ring on her finger, one final show of the unbreakable bond between them. It shon brighter than the moon. It was stunning. It was beautiful. It was amazing.

And you know what else it was? It was Cinna and Portia.

A/N: ... and we're done! I really think this pairing needs more love... and I've been obsessed with it for a while. This took me ages to write, so please review! If you're like me, you may see some similarities to Taylor Swift songs. I love that lady! The start was mainly based on 'Love Story', the middle bit on 'Mine', and the end? Well, the proposal was Love Story (I had that planned as the ending) and the snowball fight was just... I was bored, so I based it slightly on one of my snowball fights earlier this year (I went around chucking snowballs at everyone in my church, it was hilarious!)! I did draw Portia's dress, on a Winx club base, because that's how I draw at the moment. Look up sparksandice on Deviantart, then look through my work into my Hunger Games folder. The lady in the gold dress is the art I'm talking about! Yes, my story is rubbish, but PLEASE REVIEW OR I'LL DIE! Thanks and goodnight.