A/N: Hi there! So, taking a little break from A Lullaby to Soothe the Demons Within.. because I've hit a little writers block. I've had this idea for a story for a few days now. My inspiration behind this story is from a South Korean drama I'm currently watching called Love Rain. This is an AU story, taking place mostly in New York City. Though I'm Canadian, going to NYC was such an experience for me when I was in high school that I'm taking what I saw when I was there and using it for this story. New Jersey is mentioned, that's where we stayed for the 3 nights we were there cause it was cheaper than staying in a hotel on the island. So yes, I will only be continuing this story if there's enough demand and reviews for it. I will be keeping this in Peeta's POV.

Reviews= more chapters. That's it. Hope you like it!

Girl Like You

Three seconds, that's how long it took me to fall for you.

The streets are crowded and I'm annoyed at the ridiculous amount of people pushing and shoving their way past me. It's like this daily and I should be use to it, but I feel like people are always in such a rush, never enjoying their surroundings for even a moment. Even in the busy streets of New York City there is still plenty to enjoy while you walk. Maybe it was because I'm an artist I enjoy the smaller things, little details, the way someone's hair moves in the wind, the sway of arms as someone walks, whether their feet are straight while they walk or if they are pigeon toed. I like to see the light catch in people's hair as they walk by, seeing high lights of golden blond, brown, red, the shades are always different from the person next to them. I really don't see the point in rushing, you're bound to get hurt or hurt someone in your haste. It's nearly seven in the evening, didn't people have families to go home to?

I arrive at the gallery early, which gives me time to see how I like the set up of my paintings. I suppose I should go back and give you some background of myself.

My name's Peeta Mellark, age twenty-one, artist and living in the big city of New York, that's a lie, I live in New Jersey but the drive isn't long to get into the island and to work. I mostly work from home anyways. I own one gallery, thanks to my parents who left me a hefty amount of money when they passed away. My two other brothers also were left with a lump sum though both of their inheritances were already gone, both with families to take care of. I was the youngest of three. Our parents had died in a car crash two years ago. My birthday had just passed two weeks, the gallery showing tonight was more of a birthday celebration with me. I don't like to party much, it's not my scene.

I've owned the gallery for almost two years now, our anniversary would be in three months, thank god I had already broken up with my girlfriend, she'd be all over that shit like a fly.

I look around the gallery, pointing out things I want to be changed to my assistant. My eye for detail rivalled no one, there was a reason I was already quite famous at the young age of twenty-one. Conceited? Yes and I wasn't ashamed to admit that. I spend an hour watching things be changed around and make sure the drinks and food are ready to go when the doors open. I smile, as usual it was perfect in here. Tonight would be a good night, especially for sales.

The drinks flow freely which in turn means the cheques come freely too. People are laughing, talking loudly while they admire my work on the walls. The wealthy come to flaunt their money in forms of jewels and expensive clothes, waving their cheque books around as they ask for a painting here and there. It's always like this during my events. I expect to have sold at least three quarters of the art works on the walls in here by the end of the night. I'd be closer to booking my vacation to backpack through Europe. I wanted to do an art tour in Europe soon, a vacation for me with no specific time on when I'd be back.

The gallery would run on without me, art was always being rotated from galleries and museums, my guys would be able to handle it without me, they did most of the time anyways.

I grab another drink and drift around the room, shaking hands here, taking pictures there, sharing some light conversation and smiles. Everyone is in light spirits and I'm ready to call it a night. I tell Dennis, my assistant I'm out for the night, to give me a call tomorrow with the final sales total from tonight. I shake his hand and give him a clap on the back before I leave.

My car is parked in an underground garage a few blocks down, it stays there all day and I usually walk or take the subway around the city. Some times I even stay in the city, using my spare room upstairs of my gallery for a room to stay in. Tonight I want to go home, Rye, my cat probably is missing the company.

I'm walking through the crowds once more, people still shove and push their ways through. I want to sigh but hold it back, knowing it won't help me at all even if I do. This is what you get for moving to such a large city but I knew moving here was the only way to really pursue my dreams of being an established artist. It's nearly ten now, as I look at my watch, I figure by the time I make it out of the city to the tunnel that leads to New Jersey I wouldn't be home until nearly twelve. I had no where to go tomorrow anyways.

I'm a block away from the garage now and I pick up the speed, wanting to get to my car quicker now, the sooner I'm home the better.

I am about to turn right, to the door to the garage when a body bangs into me.

1...

I hear books hitting the ground and bend down to help the person pick up their belongings, not noticing who the person is.

2..

I pick up the books and stand up at the same time as the person and look up. I'm met with stormy grey eyes starting back at me. Dark, brown locks sway in wavy lengths, framing high cheek bones, soft olive skin covered with a blush.

3...

"Sorry, I must not have been paying attention when I bumped into you. Thank you for helping me out." Her voice is soft and song like when she speaks. I must look awkward as I stand there, holding her books out, mouth agape as I stare at the woman before me. She's only a few inches short than myself.

"Uh, well thanks." Her skin brushes my hands as she takes the books from me and runs past me. I stand there a moment longer, my mind still trying to catch up and process what just happened.

Had I just met an angel?

TBC?

A/N: Reviews mean more chapters. This was a spur of the moment story for me, though I can see myself going forward with this plot. Let me know what you think.