Staring from afar.

This is a one-shot about Peeta Mellark looking at Katniss before their Hunger Games. Yes, I do ship Gale and Katniss but Peeta deserves some recognition because he loves her too.

And someone reviewed saying that I changed tenses. It was on purpose. When it is in past tense, he is remembering. When it is in present tense, it is now.

Disclaimer: If I were Suzanne Collins, would I be writing on fanfiction?

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She doesn't even see me. She sees no one but him. Gale Hawthorne. The boy most girls want but he and I share the same interest. Her.

I suppose, she can't see me if I avoid her eye contact and look the other way.

She keeps her eyes on the ground and only really talks to him and the mayor's daughter, Madge. She has never spoken directly to me. Not since both of us started school. Not even at the small bread incident.

I remember that so vividly. Her figure practically crumbling in front of my eyes. My mother didn't understand; all she saw was a starving Seam girl that had better not have been going through our bins. I acted completely on impulse, my hands shaking as I allowed the bread to drop into the fire. I called for my mother, praying that she wouldn't think I'd done it on purpose. She didn't but it didn't stop her hitting me. I didn't care though. If it were Katniss' life next to a beating, beat me to a pulp.

I held the loaves, both of them burning my skin and walked outside, aware of the fact that my mother would be hovering around. I guess she figured that the other loaves in the oven were more important and she left me picking tiny bits off the bread and throwing them on the ground. I could still see her. Her grey eyes hungry for even a grain of food. I looked behind me once more, just to see if my mother had appeared. She hadn't.

I inhaled deeply. Her face was falling and I imagined how this must have appeared to her. A boy wasting food in front of her whilst she and her family might be dying at home.

I threw the first loaf in her direction, fake coughing in case my mother asked me what was going on.

Katniss furrowed her brow, unsure of why I had thrown this at her. Mocking Her? Never.

I threw the next with more accuracy, the bread landing at her feet. Her face lightened, though she didn't smile. I moved backward into the house, my gaze never leaving her for a second.

She picked them both up, smelling the fresh scent of when they come out and I suddenly felt well.

I doubt she remembers. She and Gale Hawthorne go hunting together now. I know because my father always compliments her squirrels. They are good.

She doesn't even look at me. She knows my name. We're in the same class but apart from that, she doesn't acknowledge me. I don't blame her. Why look at me when she practically has him?

I never liked any other girls. I mean, I had a few friends that were girls but I never wanted another since I saw her in her little dress. She looked so cute, I couldn't help it. I fell for her.

I fell for her.

Each time she passes me in school, I want her to look at me. To remember me. At least have a tiny memory of me but she passes me without pausing. Even if I bump into her on purpose, gently but enough to get her attention, she picks up her stuff without letting me help and says that she's sorry.

Even if I had insisted on helping, she wouldn't have remembered me. She's probably blocked the image from her mind as a starving child.

I wonder if she realises how beautiful she is. True, most guys go for the blondes but I guess I prefer the girl with a brain. Her hair is lovely, dark and daunting; a look that works for a fearless huntress and her eyes make the picture scarier and more intimidating. She is perfect in her own way.

She's exceedingly bright. Without trying far too hard. She's knows what's what and doesn't make mistakes. I wonder if she can heal as well as she hunts. Probably not. Nobody's perfect. But she is to me.

I wonder if she sees me looking at her. Not in a perverting way but just admiring her dedication to her family, her intelligence and her beauty. If she does, I hope I don't freak her out. But she is too busy looking for game to see me.

Because she'll never have eyes for me. Only for him and forgive me for being jealous but he is good-looking. A sort of rugged boy.

I wonder if she thinks of me each time she sells a squirrel to my father. He loves her squirrels and he loved her mother. But her mother chose a Seam boy and by the looks of it, she will too.

I'll never get the girl I love.

I'll never marry her. My mother will insist that I marry another and I dutifully will but I'll think of how often I had the chance to speak to her and never took it.

I'll never be with her as I want to be. Badly.

Instead, I will have to look at her and hope, though I know she'll never look back.

Instead, I'll have to keep staring from afar.

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Well, that was my first Peeta story. So tell me what you thought.

LF xoxo