The party wasn't Katniss' personal style - it was too slick, too polished, too trendy. But, as the daughter of the local mayor, every party that had ever been held for Madge Undersee had had those three major factors.
Whether Madge liked them or not.
Katniss knew that her friend was more 'vintage chic' than 'uptown slick' - two phrases Katniss would never, ever have thought of uttering unless she hadn't heard the words themselves fall from Madge's lips the week before - but the Undersees had a reputation to maintain. And, because she loved her parents despite their obvious differences, Madge went along with it. "The party itself doesn't matter," she'd insisted. "What it's for is what counts."
Madge's romantic heart was sometimes a little too much for Katniss to bear.
Tucked away in the Undersees' giant catering-grade kitchen where there were more wait staff than guests and she could avoid the requisite small talk, she sipped on the glass of champagne she held and eyed off the little trays of food sitting on the counter, just waiting to be carried around by waiters in perfect black and white dress. There were these little puff things that looked like she could happily eat a million of, and-
"First things first - I'm sorry, Katniss." The apology was quiet and sudden, and Katniss turned to see Madge standing behind her, concern on her face and the kitchen door swinging closed behind her. Her dress - floaty and pale blue and only meeting her mother's approval because it was a Cinna original - swirled around her ankles.
Lowering her glass, Katniss glanced at her friend curiously. "What for? What's happened?"
"Nothing, I…"
"What?"
"Peeta's here."
Katniss sighed, then darted a hand out, reaching for the closest silver tray. She shoved at least two of the puffs in her mouth at once. "You're kidding me, right?" she asked, not even caring that her mouth was full as she spoke.
Madge shook her head. "Definitely not. He just walked in."
"I thought he couldn't make it because of some business trip?"
"Looks like something changed."
Sighing again - she had a feeling she'd be doing that a lot tonight - Katniss folded her arms across her chest, tried not to get worked up. She had no right to, really. After all, she knew it was her friends' engagement party, knew that Peeta was Madge's cousin, and was therefore probably more required to be here tonight than she was.
She also knew it wasn't her friends' fault if she and Peeta had hated each other from the first moment they'd laid eyes on each other.
She remembered the first time she and Madge had returned to Panem after going away to separate colleges - Katniss had been full of conversation about her classes, her lecturers, about the greenhouses that she had access to on campus. Madge, on the other hand, had chattered about her sorority, about her English lit classes, about the friends she'd made. About how she'd found out her cousin was attending the same college, and they hadn't seen each other in years, and he was a really great guy.
Katniss hadn't paid much attention, her head already filled with photosynthesis and propagation and grafting.
Two months later, when they'd met up again at a restaurant at the midway point between their two campuses, Madge had dragged along this 'great cousin of hers'. And with his blond hair, blue eyes and affable nature, Katniss had been instantly wary. Even more so when Madge had made it clear that she was trying to set them up.
Which meant Katniss got pissy, he'd gotten defensive, and they'd glowered at each other for the rest of the night.
They'd barely had a good word to say to and of each other in the four years since.
"Katniss, you're going to behave tonight, right?"
Madge's words drew her out of her reverie, and she rolled her eyes. "Madge, it's your night, I'm not going to spoil it."
"You said that at my 21st, and you kicked him in the shin."
"Well, he was being an asshole."
"So were you."
"Yeah yeah," Katniss sighed. "Look, I promise, okay?"
"Good. Stay on your best behaviour because...oh shit."
There he was, pushing through the kitchen door.
Oh shit. "Oh shit."
"Behaviour."
"O-kay."
"Peeta!" Madge turned on the charm, quickly placing her wine glass down on the counter beside her before flinging her arms around him. His own arms banded around her waist, lifting her into the air and spinning her around. "I didn't think you'd make it!"
He placed her back on the ground, his grin a mile wide. "You know I couldn't miss your engagement party, Mad!" Then he shrugged, a sheepish look on his face. "And okay, my business trip got postponed until Monday, so I figured I would surprise you by coming."
"Well I'm glad you're here!" Madge half turned, gestured towards Katniss, her big blue eyes pleading. "You remember Katniss?"
"Always," Peeta replied, his voice dropping several shades below enthusiastic. "How are you Katniss?"
"Fine thank you. Yourself?"
"Fine."
"Brrrrrr, you guys are frosty! Better get yourselves warmed up!" Haymitch Abernathy, Madge's uncle by marriage, pushed into the kitchen, his requisite tumbler in hand as he shifted around waitstaff to cross to the pantry.
"Shut up Haymitch," Katniss snapped, though it was with little heat. Haymitch was one of the few members of Madge's family she actually liked.
He rifled around in the cupboard until he came up with a bottle of Jack, filling his glass with a fifth before slipping the bottle inside his jacket pocket. "You two are much more fun when you're snapping at each other than when you're being Stepford Robots," he replied, gesturing towards them with his glass as he passed them. "Like at Madge's birthday. That was a hoot, I think it was the best party Mari and Ben had hosted in years. Oh and by the way Blondie, you're needed outside. Gale looks like he's ready to strangle himself with his own tie - Councillor Heavensbee has him bailed up."
Madge cringed, before turning back to Katniss and Peeta. "Please, please be Stepford Robots out there tonight," she begged.
"I'm always on my best behaviour," Peeta argued.
"Bullshit," Katniss retorted.
"Please," Madge echoed once more, before slipping out the door after Haymitch.
They waited until she was gone, when there was no one but the catering staff around them, before they turned on each other.
"Name one time I wasn't on my best behaviour," Peeta challenged without preamble.
"How about never?"
"I think you're thinking of yourself?"
"Whatever. Don't get all self-righteous and pig headed, as usual."
"Oh my god, you're kidding me, right?" He lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. "I'm pretty sure I'm standing in front of the most stubborn person I've ever met in my life."
"Big deal. You think you're such a hot shot with all your stupid art galleries."
"Hey, my galleries are not stupid," Peeta said hotly, and she could see a pink flush creeping up out of the collar of the white shirt he wore, traversing up his neck. "Just because you have no appreciation for art-"
"Oh, fuck you," Katniss snapped, placed her hand firmly on her hip. "I can appreciate art as much as the next person."
"What, like finger painting and colour by numbers?"
She rolled her eyes. "At least colouring by numbers makes sense, unlike some of the shit that you try and sell. What the hell is anyone going to do with fluorescent lights connected in the shape of the letter T? Nothing. Therefore, stupid."
"You don't have a clue."
"And sometimes I think if I didn't know Madge's mom, I'd have no idea how the two of you are even related. You're so damn pretentious."
Peeta took a step towards Katniss. His blue eyes flashed, a muscle in his jaw twitched with tension. "You know, I think you need to have a little more respect for Madge tonight and play nice for once."
"Well I think you need to get out of my face," Katniss hissed back and, without thinking, tossed what remained of her drink in his face. Droplets of champagne slid down his face, down his neck, onto his shirt, while he blinked and her own eyes widened in shock.
Blowing out a breath, Peeta ran a hand across his face, down the front of his shirt. When he spoke, his voice was frosty. "Well, I guess that answers whether we can play nice or not." He turned on his heel, not even bothering to glance at Katniss again; he simply walked out of the kitchen with nothing more to say, and that just made her blood boil even more.
Dammit, she hated him.
She grabbed another glass of champagne, drank it in one long slug before she pushed through the door into the packed parlour. She weaved through the room, realising that she only recognised half the people, though she saw Madge and Gale standing court in the middle of the room, smiles wreathing their faces.
Ugh, she needed to get out of here.
She stomped up the stairs and down the hall to the second door on the right, to Madge's old bedroom. At least here she could get some peace and quiet, regather her thoughts, before she had to go back downstairs and put a show on again, hide how she was really feeling.
She slammed and locked the door behind her, leant against the wood. She hated that he made her feel this way, hated that she reacted so strongly to him.
Then she yelped as she noted a movement in the shadows, as a voice, low and deep and quiet, addressed her.
"Did they see you come in here?"
Katniss shook her head. "No, I don't think so."
"Good." In instant, Peeta was crossing the room, his footsteps full of purpose, his eyes heated, but not with the anger they'd wanted people to see. No, it was heat - but it was heat for her.
God, she'd missed him.
They met in a tangle of limbs in the middle of the room, mouths searching, hands wandering, their eagerness at being together again after not seeing each other for two weeks palpable.
"Fuck, I've missed you," he murmured. "I can't do this for much longer."
"We'll tell them, we have to."
"We can't keep it hidden."
"You think they'll figure it out when we do?"
"Figure out what, exactly?" His breath was hot in her ear as he slipped a hand inside her shirt and cupped her breast; she had to fight her knees from buckling at the touch.
"That our first official couple fight was at their engagement party?"
A chance meeting in a bar, reluctant small talk, then a shared table at a restaurant next door. Somehow, between the hours of 7pm and 10pm on a Friday night four months earlier, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had discovered they didn't really hate each other. In fact, they'd realised they liked each other.
A lot.
A hell of a lot.
And they'd realised that not being enemies felt a shitload better than being at each others throats all the time.
Peeta leant back slightly, the smile curving his lips. "It wasn't a real fight, Katniss. But I think you might have ruined my shirt."
Her fingers tugged at the collar of his shirt, yanked until the top few buttons snapped apart. "It was champagne, not a red. And it was a fight, I was pissed by the end of it. Not appreciating art, my ass."
"I had to make it believable!"
"Damn you, it worked a little too well." Her nails scraped against the bare skin of his chest. "From the moment Madge confirmed you'd arrived, I spent the whole time telling myself I hated you, hated you so damn bad, just to stop myself from leaping on you."
He nipped at her neck, at her chin, at her earlobe. "We had to make our absences believable, you know that."
"And we fight so good," Katniss replied breathlessly. "Perfect cover."
His hips plunged almost instinctively against hers, twin moans echoing from them at the movement. "Damn right we do," he muttered, his right hand tightening its grip on her hip. "But you know Madge is going to be pissed at us when the wait staff tells her we fought tonight."
She smiled. "Somehow I think she'll forgive us when she discovers the truth," Katniss murmured, and fixed her mouth to his.