Our eyes meet through the crowd.

His are blue. So impossibly blue.

Time seems to slow down. The loud voices and dancing seize. Small paper lights cast colourful shadows over people's heads, and around him. The street band's music is merely background noise. I feel light-headed as I halt my steps to stare at him. The crowd around me cannot obscure his eyes from me, nor his expression of determination.

I quickly look away and get as far as I can from him. I bump into several people. They give me side looks when I don't apologize. So much for spanish hospitality.

I did not come willingly to spend two weeks in San Sebastian with Annie and Johanna. They dragged me out of my house, because, according to them, they were tired of watching me sulk every day.

Five days have passed, and I am getting used to the small city. The sights are alive and bright. I am not a fan of sea food, but the restaurant where we had dinner a few hours ago advised us to try it. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

Right after that Annie and Johanna dragged me to one of the many street parties. There were hundreds of people dancing, walking around and enjoying the music. Now the music has a different tone, and the streets aren't as full as they were two hours ago.

Either way, I want to walk down the shore, where it is quieter and the only sound is the crash of waves against the wet sand. But I have lost Annie and Johanna, and I cannot find a way out of the crowded streets.

And the stranger's eyes will not leave my mind.

The blue of the sky? The blue of the ocean? I cannot make out the exact colour, but they shined with a bright intensity as he looked into mine. I shake my head to get rid off these thoughts. I shouldn't be thinking about him. He is just a stranger. I will not see him again.

I find a less crowded street, but stick to the right where the path is clearer. The open shops sell beach clothes, tradicional trinkets and some drinks. One is selling hand-made flowers. I step inside the store to admire the rows of flowers. At the far end of the store, I find a piece so well-crafted, you would think it was made of real flowers.

"Orquídea." I startle at the voice. I quickly glance up, and I am met with blue eyes.

The stranger smiles down at me, his blonde wavy hair is pasted to his sweaty forehead.

"What?" I will admit I only know the word welcome in Spanish.

"Orchid." He doesn't take his eyes off me. "The flower you were looking at."

I take a quick look at the piece. They are indeed orchids.

"Oh. Okay." I look back at him to offer him a smile. "Thank you."

Silence cuts the space between us like a sharp knife. We look at each other without speaking. What can I say? I could introduce myself, but I don't want to further the acquaintance.

"Well..." he begins. "I'm Peeta."

He stretches out his hand. I look at it doubtfully. His hand is strong and rough, but there is a delicate quality in the way his fingers move. I look up at him. He has handsome features up close, and a nice figure. The salmon-colored t-shirt suits him well.

I take his hand in mine. "Katniss. So I guess you are not spanish. Am I correct?"

As I suspected, his hand is also very warm. He lets go, mantaining his eyes on me, searching for something.

"Yes."

"Then I don't have to fear for my life?"

It takes him a moment to understand my question. His shoulders move quickly as he chuckles.

"No, I am not a psychopath," he assures me.

"But you followed. Didn't you?"

"I am neither a stalker," he insists. "However, if I were, I'd have already cornered you and demanded something."

"My wallet?"

"A walk." I am caught off guard by his answer. "Will you accept it?"

"A walk? To where?"

"Some place quiet," he says. "I saw it in your face, the urgency to escape the crowd."

"Two minutes into this conversation and you can already read my thoughts," I point out.

"Normally tourists love the commotion. You don't strike me as a common tourist."

"You got that right," I say.

Suddenly I feel my phone vibrating. Finally they answer me. I fetch it from my handbag, and read Johanna's message.

"Uh..."

"Is everything all right?" Peeta wonders.

I keep my eyes on the phone screen as I ask out loud, "Where is... De Cataluña Square?"

"You have to cross the river."

I am stupified at how far I have wandered from the last spot Annie, Johanna and I saw together. But I don't remember crossing a river to get where I am.

"My friends are waiting for me," I clarify, looking up at him.

"Do you need a tour guide?" He smiles.

"Sure. Just don't take me through crowded streets," I demand, dropping my phone into my bag.

"I'll try."

He leads the way out of the shop and into the street. Five minutes in a shop and the street is already full of people. I am starting to believe the world is punishing me for something I don't remember doing. I stand next to Peeta, fearing I will loose him if I step back a bit. Our arms brush every time I have to dodge a person.

"Is it always this messy?" I comment, touching his arm once more as a couple walks too close to me.

"Sometimes," he says, and out of nowhere grabs my hand, and pulls me to his side. "For precaution."

His warm hand sends shivers up my arm. I contain them before they reach my shoulder. I don't want him to think I am a petty girl, that I will fall under his charms with a insignificant hand-holding.

We take a turn into another street. Loud music fills a large town square surrounded by trees. It isn't as crowded as the previous streets, but a large crowd occuppies the middle of the square. The music reaches my ears, and it sounds good. It isn't typical club music. There is something smooth about it.

From the coast of Ipanema

To the Island of Capri

All the way to Kuala Lumpur

I will follow you wherever you may be

As we pass by the crowd, I glimpse a band standing on a small stage, in the middle a pair of dancers. I must have stopped walking, because our hands break apart. I look up when Peeta approaches me.

"Care for a dance?"

"I don't dance."

From the moment I first saw you

Knew my heart could not be free

Had to hold you in my arms

There can never be another for me

"Then why did you leave your room?" he jokes, taking my hand again in his. "Come. It isn't that hard."

"Maybe later," I say, dodging his request. "I have to meet my friends."

"I'm sure they don't mind waiting three more minutes." He offers a gentle smile.

"I thought you were my tour guide, not my dancing teacher," I jest, giving in reluctantly to his request.

He laughs. I place my hand on his shoulder, taking a step forward. His hand rests on my lower back, and I feel his warmth through the thin fabric of my summer dress. He moves us in a small circle, possibly to give me time to adjust to the motion.

All I need is

The Rhythm Divine

Lost in the music

Your heart will be mine

"Is this how you impress girls?" I wonder.

"This is a first," he says, picking up the pace.

I am thankful for the trees, because they shade me from the embarassement of tripping on Peeta's foot. He catches me before I stumble to the ground.

"See? I don't dance," I remind him as I straighten up.

All I need is

The look in your eyes

Viva la musica

Say you'll be mine

The look he gives me is enough to make me blush - something I don't usually do. I blame the warm air.

"I should - we should go," I say, stepping away from his embrace.

"All right." He grabs my hand as if nothing transpired between us just now.

I stay quiet as Peeta leads the way. Up ahead I see the bridge over the river. The sea breeze cools my warm cheeks, and my clammy hand. I don't know why I suddenly feel conscious of the sweat on my palm. If it bothered him, he would complain.

As we cross the bridge, I look to my left. It is a clear-sky night without a separation between the ocean and the sky. It is all a stain of starry dark-blue. Back in Panem there is always an horizon at night.

"How long have you lived here?" I ask, breaking the silence between us.

"Since I was five," Peeta answers. We walk side by side at a slow pace. It feels right to hold his hand and enjoy the small talk. "My parents own a backery/pastry shop near the beach. While you are here, you can stop by and say hello."

"We'll see about that, Mr. Tour Guide." I smile at him, prompting him to squeeze my hand. "And you don't miss the US?"

"How could I? I don't remember much of it," he says.

"Yet you don't have an accent," I say, lifting our joined hands to point a finger at him.

"My mother keeps the American lifestyle alive at home. Sometimes my older brother got on her bad side for speaking Spanish for a whole day," Peeta tells, the smile on his face growing by the second. "That was three or four years ago. I am the only one living at my parent's house."

"Afraid to leave the nest?"

Peeta laughs. "Not exactly afraid. More like I have every thing I need, so I don't want to forsake it. I sort of pay rent for my area of the house. What about you?"

"I live alone."

"That's it? Nothing exciting?"

"My life is very mundane," I say. "I guess the only excitment I get is from going out with my two friends. And still I don't contribute to the excitment."

"Wow, that is... something else."

I laugh at his bewildered expression. "What? You thought I was like "other girls"?"

"Certainly not," he states.

"You did! Don't deny it."

"I didn't - "

"You did!" I stop right at the end of the bridge. "Is that why you sought me out? And stop smiling."

"I am not doing - "

"There is a stupid smile on your face. I have known you for about an hour, and during all that time you have smiled like that several times," I observe. "Answer the question."

"Katniss..." I cross my arms when he says my name. His shoulders slump, and he runs a hand through his hair as he sighs. The smile is still on his face. "All right. Yes, I did. But only for a moment!"

I wait a moment before answering, "Okay, I accept your answer."

He exhales deeply.

"I thought you were going to kill me on the spot."

"Then how would I find my friends?"

"You could find another tour guide," he suggests, holding my hand again.

There is no denying the way our hands fit together. I have a feeling I will have his palm printed on mine when he is gone.

"I like this one," I smile softly.

Peeta takes me through streets busy with people and vehicules. I enjoy this part of the city, for there are less people and I can finally walk comfortably on the sidewalk. We come out into another square. On instinct, I spot Annie and Johanna near the road.

I pull Peeta back, and slam him against a wall away from their eyes.

"Christ, you are strong," he notes.

"Okay, we - I mean. Here's the plan. I will meet them, you will come with me, and I'll introduce you as the guy who helped me find the way to them. Got it?" I ask, laying out the plan to him.

"The guy who helped you?"He lifts an eyebrow at my description of him. "I thought I was an acquaintance, not just a guy."

I am startled by the voice of a man next to me. I turn my head to look at him. His hands hold several one-flower bouquet. He is certainly speaking Spanish, because Peeta answers to whatever the man said.

It is odd to hear Peeta speak Spanish so easily. I see him fetch his wallet from his trousers' pocket, hand out a few coins to the salesman and get a rose in return.

"Here. For you," Peeta says, giving me the single rose, after the salesman leaves.

I take it hesitantly, not knowing what to make of his gift.

"Uh, thank you."

He brings his hand to my cheek. I glance at his eyes, and I am surprised at the many shades of blue in them. I am stupified when he gets closer, and kisses me on the lips. It is quick, but so soft. For a moment, my head stays tilted up, still stuck in the kiss.

"Preciosa," he whispers against my lips, and I am sure he just called me beautiful.

"Uh, we should get going." I squeeze the rose in my hand. Thank God it doesn't have thorns.

We walk side by side to where Annie and Johanna's spot. I try to avoid looking at Peeta, not wanting to give away what just happened between us to my two friends. Annie is the first to notice me, followed by a questioning look the moment her eyes move to my right. Johanna turns around, and her reaction is completely different.

"Katniss, you brainless bitch! Do you know what phones are for?" she scolds as Peeta and I meet them.

"We were worried, Katniss. We thought we had lost you," Annie says worringly.

"The noise must have blocked the sound," I say. "I am here, Annie. There's no need for that."

"Sure, call it the noise," Johanna says knowingly. Her eyes go straight to Peeta. "Hello, handsome stranger, I'm Johanna."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Peeta." He holds out his hand to shake Johanna's.

"Katniss, where did you find this one?" she asks, shaking his hand. "Are you English, Mister?"

"I am - "

"Peeta helped me find the way to you girls," I say, glancing up at him. He looks down at me, a gentle smile flourishing on his face. "I was on the other side of the river."

"How nice of him. Did he asked anything in return?"

"Oh my God, Johanna..." I bring my hand to my face to hide the embarassement.

Peeta laughs at the situation. He didn't ask. He took it freely just a few minutes ago, Johanna.

"Jo, I told you to keep quiet or there wouldn't be a trip," Annie reminds Johanna.

"My bad, Kat," Johanna apologizes. She turns to Peeta. "Now that Katniss is delievered, you may run along. The night is still young, and I haven't had a drink. So say your good-byes."

"Yes, ma'am," Peeta jokes.

"Thank you for the help," I thank him as normally as I can under Johanna and Annie's eyes.

"It was nice to meet you, Katniss," he says.

I nod. There is a pause. He wants to say something else or to do something. He puts his hand in his front pocket.

"Good-bye." He offers a smile. "Nice to meet you, too, girls."

"Likewise," Annie says.

I watch him walk away, feeling conflicted and sad. The print of his hand on mine pulses with each step he takes. It was a good hour, and I am not ready to put a stop to it.

"Kat, you are so brainless," Johanna points out. "I wouldn't let him walk away like that."

I glance at Annie. Her sweet smile lets me know she agrees with Johanna.

"Grab this." I hand Annie the rose before taking off running after Peeta. "Peeta!"

I shout his name above the noise as I run to him. I nearly collide with him when he finally turns around. I look at him, waiting for the words to pour out of my mouth.

"Yes?" The way he looks at me, the close-mouthed smile, the two single strands of blonde hair falling over his forehead.

"Uh. You - you forgot to give me your contact." I blurt out, and mentally slap myself on the head.

"What?"

"How am I suppose to reach you, dummy?" I fish out my phone from my bag, but his hand stops me. I glance up at him.

"Tomorrow. 10 p.m.. Here," he proposes.

I stare at him, searching for an answer.

"Okay," I say, lowering my hand to my side. "Okay, I'll be here."

"Good." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins. "Till tomorrow."

"Bye." I smile at him.

He nods and leaves. I look at Annie and Johanna. If there was a wall next to her, Johanna would hide behind it. I don't understand her reactions. She is just like me when it comes to any thing remotely romantic.

Annie signals for something, but I can't figure it out. I'm caught off guard by a hand on my cheek, and then a pair of lips on mine. Peter pulls away to see my reaction.

"I had to repeat it," he says, and leaves at once.

He leaves me confused and surprised.

"Way to go, Brainless!" Johanna shouts, putting me under a spotlight.