Her eyes were silver, and glittered in the candlelight that flickered from the centrepiece on the table in front of her. Her dark hair was a silky curtain that flowed over her right shoulder, leaving the small gold hoop in her left ear to shine unencumbered. And though her lips were turned upwards in a smile, something about it told him it wasn't all that sincere, wasn't exactly-
"Peeta, are you listening to me?"
Peeta snapped his head around, glancing across to his dinner companion guiltily. "Sorry, Cashmere. I...drifted off for a minute there."
She shook her head, toyed with the small mound of mushroom risotto on her plate. "Are you always this flighty? Geez, I swear I've been talking to you for ten minutes, and you haven't acknowledged a thing I've said."
Partly because you were talking about nothing but nail polish colours, Peeta thought wryly, picking up his knife and fork, and cutting an asparagus spear clean in half. But...mostly because of the brunette next to us.
He didn't know what it was about the woman, but from the moment the waiter had sat himself and Cashmere down at the table next to the window, directly beside the dark-haired couple deep in conversation, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her.
In the soft, dim light of the restaurant, she was as radiant as the sun.
And he was totally an idiot.
Peeta popped a forkful of food into his mouth, and swore that for the rest of the night, he would do nothing but focus on Cashmere.
His date.
Gale?
Check.
Candlelight?
Check.
Amazing food?
Check.
Chemistry?
Bom-bomb.
Katniss knew she never should have said yes to this dinner, never should have agreed to go on a 'date' with her oldest friend. Sure, at first she'd just thought it was going to be a friendly catch up while he was back in town, but when he'd shown up at her door, a bunch of flowers in hand and his perpetual 5 o'clock shadow gone with a flick of a razor, the concern of what this meant for him began to sit awkwardly in her belly.
And when he'd pulled up outside Caesars, the fanciest restaurant in Panem, and the kind of place neither of them would normally think twice of going to, she'd known one hundred percent that she was in trouble.
Sometimes, she mused, she was completely oblivious to what was in front of her. And in this case, Gale's feelings for her had flown right over her head.
Katniss sipped on her wine, tried to concentrate on what he was saying, something about his engineering job and a suspension bridge they were working on. But the more she tried to concentrate, the more she found she couldn't; there was a tingling feeling dancing up her spine that was distracting her. It almost felt like someone was watching her, like a pair of eyes were studying her intently, like someone-
Wait, someone was.
She shifted her gaze slightly, in a practiced way she'd honed over the years in her job as a park ranger. She'd encountered enough hunters - and wildlife - to know that any sudden movement could be the wrong one. But when she caught a glimpse of the person, she knew she was dead wrong.
The blond haired, blue eyed man with broad shoulders and a jaw that could cut glass who sat at the table next to her was no hunter. He was...well, she didn't even know how to describe him, other than hot.
And she was utterly surprised and slightly mortified at the little flutter around her heart that his gaze was causing.
Sipping at her drink again, she swallowed nervously, then chanced a second glance at him.
This time he caught her, and the corners of his mouth turned up in at smile that managed to look both bashful and enticing. She bit down on her lower lip before tipping her head ever so slightly in greeting.
Then she stopped herself.
Was she flirting with someone on her date? With someone who wasn't her date?!
She was the worst.
With a firm straightening of her shoulders, she turned away, tried to tune back into Gale's story. She may not be interested in him romantically, but she at least owed it to him and their friendship to focus on him, and not think about the stranger next to her.
No matter how much she wanted to.
Mostly, the date was going fine. The food was great, the wine good, and the music low and unobtrusive. But Peeta couldn't lie to himself that the best part of his evening wasn't even the date itself. It was the glances he would shoot towards the woman at the next table, and the slight blush that would appear on her cheek whenever she caught his gaze.
He'd been disappointed halfway through his main course when she'd shifted in her seat, turning her shoulder in a way that meant he couldn't see her properly, with her head angled strictly towards the guy across from her. But her date had said something that made her laugh - he thought he'd heard the word posy, and had no idea why it was so funny - and the disappointment had evaporated when she'd absently moved her arm from the tabletop to her lap. He'd been able to see her properly again.
Peeta knew that he should stop, that he should feel guilty - Cashmere on one side of the table while he thought of nothing but the brunette next to them. And the woman was on a date herself, probably with a man she'd been with for years. But he honestly couldn't help himself. There was just something about her. And while he'd never been a big believer in love at first sight, he was worried that maybe he'd been wrong all along. And maybe this was it.
Or at least something close.
He felt a nudge against his foot, and the length of Cashmere's stiletto heel slid up the inside of the hem of his pants. He fought back the grimace that wanted to spread across his face, shifted slightly in his seat so that his leg was out of her reach.
"I'm really glad you finally agreed to go on this date," Cashmere said coyly. "I'm so glad Adrian introduced us."
Peeta couldn't necessarily agree, and almost regretted the day his co-workers sister had flounced into their office, her designer glasses perched on her head and her berry coloured lips pouting until Adrian had introduced her to every single person in their art department. He'd only agreed to the date in the hopes he could finally get her to stop sending him emails at work, or dropping by to see him - it had been fairly obvious from the outset that they had nothing in common and no chemistry to boot; hell, he'd even told her that he didn't think they were really very compatible. She'd flippantly disregarded his comments, and instead had suggested dinner - so he'd assumed that by accepting the invitation she'd finally notice there was nothing there; dinner would therefore be a short, uneventful evening.
Apparently, however, the only thing Cashmere noticed was herself.
"The food has been great," he said noncommittally, and looked down at the menu to peruse the dessert options again. He'd heard the raspberry souffle here was sublime, but he wanted something rich tonight. Something chocolate.
And then, even over the soft din of the restaurant, he heard it, and he felt like his heart had stopped.
Glancing up, he noticed her date had disappeared, and she'd begun playing with the unused knife on the tablecloth, absently humming under her breath. And while he didn't know the song, he found himself wanting to capture every murmur, every hummed sound.
He knew that Cashmere, for all her blonde, elegant beauty, had nothing on the woman beside him.
This time, when they looked at each other, neither looked away.
Katniss had breathed a sigh of relief when Gale had excused himself to go to the bathroom the minute their plates had been cleared. He'd been looking at her oddly the last ten minutes or so, and she'd realised maybe her ambivalence towards anything happening between them was apparent.
But now, instead of thinking about how she was going to let her friend down gently, she was locked in a staring game with the blond guy.
Her earlier resolve to not look at or think of him had failed miserably within 5 minutes.
Damn, he was hot.
This was so unlike her, it wasn't even funny. She never flirted, rarely dated, and couldn't remember the last time she'd even thought about getting naked with a guy. But for some reason, this stranger had made her smile, make eye contact willingly, and seriously rethink this accidental celibacy she'd entered into.
And it all immediately made her feel insanely guilty.
Firming her lips in a straight line, she tore her gaze away and stared down at the tablecloth until Gale slid into the seat across from her, only looking up when he sighed.
"Tonight was a mistake, wasn't it Catnip," he said quietly. She couldn't do anything but nod slowly, and he mirrored her response. "I thought so. Even...even I can feel it's not right."
"Then why are we here?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess...over the years I've kind of wondered, thought about how we'd go together as a couple. And being out in Twelve Pines for the last six months had me thinking about it even more. But it's pretty obvious there's nothing between us."
"I've felt more chemistry with Buttercup, to be honest," Katniss said wryly, referring to the childhood pet cat of her sisters, who'd hated her - and the feeling had been completely mutual.
Gale snorted. "Of course, you've also had more chemistry with the guy at the next table."
Katniss' jaw dropped. "What?"
"Don't try and deny it," he said with a smirk. "You guys have been staring at each other all night."
"What?! No we haven't!" she said hotly.
"You have." Gale reached across the table, tapped his fingers on the back of her hand. "And you know what? I'm okay with that."
"Huh?"
"I said, I'm ok with it. It's pretty obvious you think he's attractive, and vice versa."
"Oh my godddddd," Katniss sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "I'm so confused right now. You asked me on a date, and now that we both know it's not right, you're suddenly cool with me eyeing off the guy at the next table?"
He laughed. "Catnip." He didn't say anything more until she looked up at him, and the grey eyes that looked so similar to her own were surprisingly sincere. "I just want you to have fun. Be happy, enjoy life. That's all."
Katniss lifted a hand incredulously. "You think I'm not? You think a random guy in a restaurant could do all that for me?" she scoffed, and he shrugged again.
"You don't need anyone for all of that, Katniss, I know you don't - you're pretty damned self-sufficient and independent, as you've loved to remind me since we were kids. But it'd still be nice to have someone there to share it with, you know? So I don't know for sure. But what I do know? Right now, I'm going to go home, crack open a beer, and watch whatever baseball game is on tv. And that while at least I gave this a go, I know without a doubt that we're much better off as friends. Candlelight and hand-holding is not for us, not together."
"No. No it's not," Katniss agreed, falling silent as she mulled over his words. She was self-sufficient and independent, sure. But was she happy? She guessed so. Was she enjoying life, was she having fun? Probably not as much as she could be. Could the guy next to her be anything more than just something pretty to look at across a crisp white tablecloth and polished silverware?
Maybe.
She waited a moment before responding as she gathered her thoughts, before finally nodding. "Okay. I might...I might stay and finish my wine, if that's okay."
"Yeah, sure. Stay and finish your wine," Gale smirked. He rose from his seat, placed a quick, brotherly peck on her cheek. "I'll fix up the check. I'll talk to you soon?"
"Of course," she said quietly, and watched him leave.
5 minutes later, her fingers were wrapped limply around the stem of her wineglass, and she still wasn't sure what exactly had just transpired.
Her date was gone.
She was alone. Finishing her wine. Alone.
Alone.
What the hell had happened?
Peeta's foot was tapping nervously under the table, even as he spooned up the last of the chocolate ganache that had topped the slice of cake he'd ordered for dessert. And the moment Cashmere pressed a napkin lightly to the corner of her mouth, and told him she was going to the restroom, his heart leapt.
He absently watched her walk away, oblivious to the over exaggerated swing of her hips that he had no idea was purely for his benefit, before whirling and training his gaze onto the figure at the next table.
She was already staring at him.
Could he do this? Could he say hi to a perfect stranger while his date was in the bathroom?
He had to.
"Hi," he said quickly, before he could talk himself out of it.
"Hi," she replied softly.
"I'm Peeta."
"Katniss."
He swallowed heavily. Katniss.
"Did your, uh, date leave?"
She nodded. "Yeah, he's gone. But he's, um, just my friend, though. Nothing more."
Hallelujah.
"Your date is pretty," she said, and he cringed. "Have you been dating long?"
"We're not dating," he blurted, then felt his cheeks colour. "Er, I...I don't want to be on this date. We have nothing in common, and I only agreed to come in the hope she'd finally realise that. But she doesn't."
"Oh."
"I'm going to tell her that, though."
Katniss nodded. "I hope it won't upset her."
"Something tells me Cashmere will bounce back," he replied, watched as a look of incredulity crossed her face. He glanced over his shoulder towards the bathrooms, figured he didn't have much time left. "Look, I'm really sorry, and I feel bad that I'm doing this right now, like a total douchebag, but I just have to, and well...you're beautiful."
At his words, she blushed, and looked away.
"Dammit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," he muttered. "Please, ignore me."
Katniss shook her head, quickly lifted her wine glass up towards her mouth. Oh God, her mouth. "No. No, it's okay. But, um, we should stop talking. Your date is coming back."
Peeta turned his head wildly to see Cashmere winding her way through the tables, a look of confusion on her face as she saw Peeta's body angled towards Katniss.
"Hello there," She greeted, placing a perfectly manicured hand on Peeta's arm. "Can we help you?"
"The lady dropped her napkin," Peeta said smoothly, even while his heart was racing a mile a minute, and pointed towards the napkin that sat beside the now empty wine glass. "I just gave it back to her."
Cashmere smiled widely. "Aren't you the sweetest?" She dropped back into her chair, then glanced at her watch. "But we really should be going, Peeta. It's late."
Peeta nodded slowly, not risking another glance towards Katniss because he was fairly certain everything that was on the tip of his tongue would come tumbling out if he did. He lifted a hand to catch the attention of the waiter, then focused on nothing but his Visa card, on signing off the slip, while Cashmere fluffed her hair, touched up her lipstick. But it was all overshadowed by the fact that his stomach was pitching at the thought that he may never see this mystery woman again.
Peeta rose to his feet, spared one more desperate look at Katniss; she looked back at him, her eyes unblinking and wide.
And when he passed by her table to head towards the front door, her napkin fell by his feet.
He glanced ahead and saw that Cashmere was already well on her way to the entrance; he quickly bent over, picking up the napkin and holding it out to Katniss.
"No, keep it," she whispered, and looked away.
Peeta nodded and quickly caught up to Cashmere to guide her out of the restaurant. He opened her door for her, barely registering her sultry thank you as she slid into the passenger seat, then quickly closed it again, stalking around the back of the car to the drivers side. And while he did so, he chanced a glance at the now crumpled napkin.
He had her name and number.
What had she done? What the hell had she done?
Katniss vaguely wondered if she'd actually managed to get drunk off two glasses of wine.
She clenched her hands around the steering wheel as she drove home, her low-heeled shoes discarded and dumped on the passenger side floor. She was grateful for the fact that she could practically drive anywhere in Panem with her eyes closed, because right now she could hardly concentrate on where she was going.
She'd given her phone number to a complete stranger in the middle of a restaurant. After both of them had been on dates with other people. If she wasn't drunk, was she insane?
Maybe she and Johanna had done some kind of Freaky Friday body-swap, because what she'd done tonight was something that she'd do. Jo, her college roommate who'd shaved her head just prior to her high school prom simply because she could, had juggled three guys at once freshman year who all just happened to live in the same dorm and had then unexpectedly dropped out to do a mechanic apprenticeship. Who always thought of the consequences long after she'd already jumped in with two feet.
The minute Katniss stumbled through the front door of her apartment, she was fumbling in her purse for her cell, quickly scrolling through until she found Jo's contact entry. She waited impatiently, tapping her foot against the worn wooden floor in her living room as the phone rang, staring blindly out the window to the darkened street below.
"Yeah?" The answering voice was brisk, a little sharp. Laced with what was likely a couple of vodkas at this time on a Friday night.
"Dammit, it is you," Katniss sighed, and dropped onto the sofa beside her.
She heard the snap and pop of gum, and a sarcastic laugh. "Of course it's me, brainless, who'd you think it would be?"
"Me?"
"What the hell, Everdeen? You stoned?"
Katniss couldn't help but laugh. "If that was it, maybe then I could explain what I did tonight."
"You finally get yourself arrested? Am I your one phone call?"
Katniss rolled her eyes, and launched into her faux date with Gale, the guy - Peeta - in the restaurant, and her decision to napkin drop him her number. She stopped abruptly when Jo wolf whistled down the phone.
"Everdeen, I never thought I'd see the day!" She yelled, and Katniss held the phone aware from her ear with a grimace. "Maybe you were finally, finally channeling me after all my years of solid gold dating tips."
"I would hardly call your dating tips solid gold," Katniss replied wryly.
"Why not? They always work for me."
"Because you've got balls of steel." And she really did. Johanna Mason was the bluntest, sharpest, no-holds-barred person she knew.
But on top of all of that, she was fiercely loyal. Which meant once she was your friend, she was in your corner for life.
"Anyway, thanks. I think it helped to just get it off my chest, to tell someone what I just did. Not that I really thought I'd become Lindsay Lohan or anything."
"I wouldn't mind. That would mean I'd be Jamie Lee, and she was hot in True Lies."
"Plus I don't think he'll call anyway," Katniss continued, as though her friend hadn't spoken.
Jo sighed dramatically down the phone. "Now you're being an idiot. This guy flirted you while you were both on a date with someone else - even if his dates' name is frigging ridiculous, so totally understandable on his part - and you think he'll blow you off?"
"Maybe."
"Idiot," Jo reiterated.
"Maybe," Katniss repeated and glanced up at the old clock on the wall, noted it was past 11. "Ugh, I'd better go. I have to get up early tomorrow for work, I picked up an extra shift."
"Saturday hikers again?"
"Saturday hikers," Katniss confirmed. "Speak to you later."
"Don't call me unless you bone him!"
Katniss hung up without replying.
Ten numbers. Ten little individual numbers, all in a string, forming one long number. Her number.
Katniss' number.
There was no light but the shimmer of the moon streaming through the window to highlight the black numbers that stood out in stark relief on the white napkin, but Peeta didn't really need to look at it to recite the numbers. He'd stared at it for hours already tonight, so much so that the numbers felt like they'd imprinted themselves permanently on his brain.
He'd barely managed to keep it together as he'd driven Cashmere home while she'd chattered at him endlessly. He'd listened halfheartedly - nothing she'd talked about had required a response or interaction from him - all the while thinking about the napkin he'd quickly shoved in his pocket as he'd gotten in the car.
The manners his mother had drummed into him at a young age dictated that he walk Cashmere to her front door, and he'd followed her up the brick path to the small little bungalow that was surrounded by impeccably maintained gardens. And he'd felt guilty when the look in her eyes had begged him for a kiss, and he'd simply given her a peck on the cheek, and told her in the gentlest way possible that while she was lovely, he thought they were definitely just better as friends, nothing more.
Peeta had known the moment his meaning registered, and her sparkling blue eyes had hardened before she'd slammed the door in his face. He'd heard the fucking asshole as clear as day through the polished mahogany wood.
Now it was 3am, and he was lying in bed, staring at a bunch of numbers that on any other day would seem inconsequential.
Tonight, they were anything but.
At first, Peeta told himself it was too soon, that you never called the next day. That was what his brother Aaran had always drummed into him, from the moment his older brother had turned 16 and had dated practically every girl in his grade. Then he told himself he absolutely should call her, because what if he left it, and she forgot about him? Then he convinced himself to at least wait until Sunday, give himself a two day buffer - not too eager, but not in any way trying to make her wait or whatever. He was pleased with that decision, figured it was a happy medium.
He went for a run, made himself a gross green smoothie that was supposed to be good for his health, scanned through Netflix to see what he'd watch that night.
That's why he was surprised when, the minute the digital clock flipped over to 11am, he was already typing in the ten numbers on his iPhone.
"You've reached Katniss Everdeen. Leave a message and your number after the beep."
"I...er...um...shit. It's Peeta. The guy from last night. Just thought I would call, say hi. Anyway, hi. This is Peeta. And, er, this is my number. Okay, bye."
Peeta cursed himself for sounding like an idiot
Katniss reached into her locker and grabbed her satchel, slinging it over her shoulder as she made her way to the cupboard that housed the walkie-talkies. She shoved the one she'd taken on the hike with her back into the charging station, pilfered a couple of band-aids from the first aid kit for the blister she knew was popping up on her heel and swung back out of the office before her boss could get her to do anything more. She was only doing a half-day fill in for one of the guides, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for a couple of hours.
The hike had started at 6am, and after only finally falling asleep after 1am, she was exhausted.
Practically running out to her car, she quickly unlocked it, dropped into the drivers seat before digging out her cell, noted the little blue light flashing at the top that indicated a call had been received. Maybe it had been Prim - after six straight days on rotation at Panem Hospital, her little sister had finally gotten a day off work - and she'd been hoping…
Her heart twisted in her chest when she looked at the unknown number that popped up on her screen, along with the message to tell her to check her voicemail. She told herself not to hope that it was him - after all, it wasn't even a day after she'd given him her number, and surely it would be too soon.
And anyway, it was just stupid. She was Katniss Everdeen. She really didn't have time for guys, and she especially didn't have the time to waste just wondering about a guy. It was all pointless, she told herself as she dialed into her voicemail. It was probably just her bank trying to get her to upgrade her measly credit card limit.
Then the message connected.
"I...er...um...shit. It's Peeta. The guy from last night. Just thought I would call, say hi. Anyway, hi. This is Peeta. And, er, this is my number. Okay, bye."
She waited until she was home to call him, waited until she'd showered and changed out of her sweaty hiking gear before sitting cross-legged on her bed and clicking on her call log.
Katniss stared at her phone for five minutes, wondering whether this was even a good idea, before she finally pressed the call button.
Peeta leapt over his coffee table, stubbing his toe in the process and screaming bloody murder. He managed to catch himself before he fell over completely, then sprinted down the hallway to his bedroom.
Why the hell had he left his phone in there?
He dove onto the quilt, grasping at his iPhone seconds before it went to voicemail. He knew immediately it was her number displayed across the screen.
"Peeta Mellark," he gasped, sucking in big, deep breaths of air.
"P-Peeta? It's, um, Katniss. I'm just returning your call from earlier. I was working."
He flopped over so that he was on his back, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. "Ah, yeah, of course! Not a problem, that's fine. You didn't have to call me back." He closed his eyes, slapped his hand across his forehead. Mellark, you dickhead!
"I'm sorry, I-"
"No, no, I didn't mean that, I'm really glad you called," he babbled, then took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm usually a lot better at this. My dad always told me I have a way with words, but I'm kind of lost in them right now."
The laugh was quiet as it drifted across the line. "I'm not very good with words at the best of times, so we're even."
He laughed back, and something settled in his stomach, his nerves slowly easing. "Well, I really am glad you called me back. I know last night was a little...odd, and I guess that's why I wanted to call you today. Clear some things up."
"Oh?" This time her reply was guarded, sharp, and he wondered if somehow he'd said something wrong.
"Yeah. I, um, well, I don't do things like what happened last night. I mean, flirt with women when I'm on a date with someone else. I've never done anything like that before."
"Neither have I," Katniss shortly.
"And I didn't want you to think I was an asshole or anything, but, well, I couldn't help it." He took another deep breath. "I just couldn't focus on anything but you."
"Oh."
"As soon as I sat down, I couldn't take my eyes off you. It was weird, I'd never had anything like that happen before. Especially not with Cashmere."
At first there was silence on the other end of the line, then came the incredulous reply. "Is that really her name?"
Peeta laughed. "It is. She's the sister of one of my co-workers, and has been trying to get me on a date for ages. I agreed only in the hope she'd realise how incompatible we are, but it kind of backfired. Cashmere doesn't think she's incompatible with anyone."
"She did seem very...self-aware."
"Oh, she is. Just like she's now of the opinion that I'm a fucking asshole, because I made it clear last night there wouldn't be a repeat date."
"Well, she may have a point - you were flirting with another woman while you were at dinner. Plus you took her to Caesars, the ultimate in relationship restaurants."
He appreciated the dry tone, the no-nonsense way she had of speaking. "First, Cashmere picked the restaurant and made the reservations before I could even blink. But for the other part, even though she didn't know...Point taken," he admitted. "But so were you - flirting with me, I mean."
This time, her tone was indignant. "I didn't know mine was a date until I was on it. And I wasn't flirting! I was just...looking at you. And by the end of it, Gale knew anyway."
Gale, Peeta repeated in his head. "Knew what?"
He could practically hear the embarrassment down the phone. "He knew that we were...that er, that you and I…"
"He knew that we were attracted to each other?"
He heard her sharp intake of breath, and he waited in silence for her to continue. "Yes," she finally said. "He pretty much told me that he knew that there wasn't any chemistry between he and I, whatsoever. And even if we had, it was nothing compared to what was happening between you and I."
"Even from a table away?"
"Even from a table away."
"Wow."
"Yeah, tell me about it. My Friday night didn't exactly happen the way I expected it to."
Peeta laughed, tapped his feet against the floor. He felt like he was sixteen again, talking to his first girlfriend, Delly, on the phone. The little buzz inside him that was excitement, anticipation, nervousness, all mixed in with that undeniable feeling of attraction.
He liked it.
"Mine either - but I'm glad it did." He cleared his throat, stared up at the ceiling. "It's nice to meet you, Katniss Everdeen."
"It's nice to meet you, Peeta Mellark."
Their phone call lasted an hour.
Katniss talked to him every night for the next three and a half weeks, but neither of them brought up the idea of meeting up, going out, seeing each other in any capacity. She'd never been one for talking very much, but she found herself chatting to him about anything and everything. She soon learned he had two brothers, a father who was a baker, and a mother who'd been strict and fairly limited in her affections up until her death 3 years earlier. How he worked in advertising, and baked in his spare time. Peeta got told about Prim, about the death of her own beloved father when she was 16, of the effect it had had on her mother, who had taken over ten years to begin to recover from his passing. How she used to sing in a childrens choir, how she loved being outdoors more than anywhere else. How Gale's family had been like a second family to her growing up, and that she'd always considered him to be more like a cousin than anything else.
There were nights they would talk until the early hours of the morning, and she'd swear he would begin to say something, only to stop and correct himself, quickly changing the subject. And she found herself desperately wanting to know what it was he was really trying to say.
For someone who had told herself she didn't want or need anyone in her life, Katniss spent a lot of time thinking about Peeta Mellark in it.
It was a month to the day that they met when he called her, asked her if she'd like to go to dinner with him the following night. No strings attached, of course. Just dinner.
Finally.
Katniss said yes with no hesitation.
He didn't pick Caesars.
Peeta took her to a restaurant on the outskirts of town, one that was casual enough not to be daunting, but pretty enough for a date, with views out to the mountains. They sat on the terrace, the scent of pine trees and flowers surrounding them and a slight breeze teasing the ends of the dark hair she'd twisted back into a complicated braid. The candlelight still set her eyes to silver, still glinted off the small gold hoops she still wore.
He couldn't take his eyes of her, and she rarely broke his gaze.
And this time, there was no one else to interrupt them.
He walked her to her door after dinner, his palm warm and soft against the green fabric at the small of her back.
She took a deep breath and invited him inside.
He stayed.
A/N - This was inspired by a drabble prompt that came across on my dash on tumblr - 'Imagine your OTP going to a restaurant, but they're on separate dates, with separate people. They haven't met yet.' I originally posted it on there, but this is a fleshed out, expanded version ;)
I hope you enjoy; you can find me on tumblr under sponsormusings where I love to while my hours away thinking about Everlark!