Peeta runs his fingers over a countertop. The cool formica soothes him as he tries not to look around and see all the tired, frazzled faces around him. It is still too much for him to handle. Perhaps, he should have gone to park or the library for his first trip out. It was a bad decision to come to Ikea alone. He had not made an excursion from his apartment all by himself since returning home, and this houseware jungle was very overwhelming. Still, they needed to make final decisions on the cabinets and countertops if he and Katniss were going to open the bakery by Christmas. Katniss had been so busy lately with Network meetings and interviews that he didn't want to bother her with this right now. She had enough on her shoulders. Peeta knew he was strong enough to handle this.
He wonders if Katniss would like white or cherry cabinets. He has no preference, and even though he is certain she won't care, he would still like to make her happy. He walks away from the countertop and looks at the variety of cuts and colors of the cabinets.
As he looks, a loud thump catches him off guard. He backs into the corner and looks around wildly-only to find a young woman collapsed in a heap on the floor. He quickly gathers himself and goes to her aid. When he reaches out for her, he realizes his hands are shaking.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" He asks as he helps her to her feet.
She brushes off her smiling cat sweater and shakes her head. "I thought there were gnargles in the great white box."
"You mean the refrigerator? Did you hit your head?" He looks at her scalp to see if it's bleeding.
"I don't think so."
Peeta steps back then and notices a magazine lying on the floor. He picks it up and tries not to look at the cover. He cannot help it though and sees a very strange woman holding what looks to be a horned platypus on the cover. The young woman catches him looking and smiles.
"That's my father's magazine. Have you ever read it?"
"No."
"It's very popular now. We've had to increase circulation since the Great War."
"World War II?"
"What?" She looks genuinely confused.
"Nothing. Sorry."
"That's alright. You can keep that if you like. I've got another box of them at home."
He nods politely and tucks the magazine under his arm.
"I'm Luna Lovegood. And you are?"
"Peeta Mellark."
"What an unusual name. Do you believe in kurfuffles?"
"You mean like commotions?"
"No, silly. They're invisible creatures that bring good luck to those who leave carrots out for them on nights of the full moon."
"Oh." And she thinks he's silly, he thinks. "Ah, do you have anyone who might be wondering where you are?"
"No. I told them I was travelling the world a bit. Father won't worry. He has a timepiece that tells him whether or not I'm in trouble. He got the idea from the Weasleys."
"Who?"
"Friends."
"Oh."
"So, you're alright then? Are you sure you don't have a concussion?"
"A what?"
"Is your head okay?"
"Yes. I don't know how I ended up here though. I meant to apparate to Iowa."
"Apparate?"
"Sorry. I forgot myself. Too caught up in thoughts of gnargles, I guess." She smiles at Peeta and places a hand on his arm. He notices she is wearing a bracelet with little garlic charms. "Thank you for your help, Peeta Mellark. You have been very kind."
"You're welcome." He said with a kind smile. She is a nice if weird young lady.
"I'm sorry, but I have to do this." She pulls a stick from her pocket and aims it at his head. "Obliviate."
. . .
Peeta Mellark puts a hand to his forehead. He feels a bit foggy headed all of a sudden. Oh well, maybe he should go get something to eat before making any final decisions on the cabinet. He wouldn't want to faint in the middle of Ikea. As he turns to go, he notices he has a magazine tucked under his arm. He pulls it out and sees a woman holding a platypus with a horn on the cover. I wonder if that's a kurfuffle, he thinks with a smile. He shakes his head, wondering where he got such an idea. He sets the magazine on the counter and leaves without another thought.