Authors note ~ Hi! Merry Christmas everyone! This drabble was written as a gift to my secret santa.

Summary: Everlark as servants sneaking a kiss at Christmas.

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Katniss pov

"Peeta" I whisper, giggling quietly as we sneak down the hallway with only the candlelight aiding our sight. He shushes me with a chuckle and glances at me when he looks over his shoulder.

I bite my lip and tug the skirt of my apron down. There's no rule against servants being up so late at night, but in the masters quarters. And with a boy? Goodness knows the warning we'll get if we're caught. I follow him silently, my feet padding along the carpet.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he hisses out. I bump into him and he winks at me.

"What is it?" I ask glancing around. There's nobody else here. Have we been caught? How?

He runs his hands through his combed hair as he stares at his reflection in a wall mirror.

"I just want to make sure I look good for you".

I roll my eyes as a clock sounds in the distance. 1 am. The master expects to be awoken by seven. "Peeta, we haven't the time for your games".

"Well then stop sneaking into my room at night".

I scowl at his teasing and step away from the mirror lest I see my own face in the reflection. I must be pink already. This is not how a lady of the household behaves. Though I suppose, as I'm not a lady…

I reach up and pluck the ribbon from my hair allowing it to tumble down. Then I slowly slide the ribbon down my neck and across the front of my chest. Nothing too indecent. I glare at him, when I feel the loss of the delicate material. He clutches it triumphantly. Snatcher, snatcher, woman catcher.

With a smirk, he spins on his unpolished black leather shoes. I follow his further, towards the staircase to the master's room. I should ask where he's going but I fear that his reply may be too loud for the silence of the night. To the left, he opens a door hidden under the stairs. My shoulders fall. A closet? The one we store with cleaning supplies. I thought the boy was romantic. I suppose not all the gossip the ladies in the kitchen speak about is true.

"Look" he says.

I shuffle in with him, dodging a bucket full of muddy water, and grimace at the small room. Maybe one would melt at the feeling of being intimately pressed up against someone they admire in a small space, but for some reason the cramped room doesn't feel very… authentic for a Christmas kiss. Or at least that's what he told me I was here for. I don't even want to consider how red my face must have been when the boy publically sought me out to bluntly ask if I'd like the honour of giving him his first kiss -and getting mine as well.

I try to focus on his blue eyes. Their intensity. Goodness.

His nose crinkles and I struggle to supress a snort. Perhaps he doesn't think the strong odour of bleach is ideal. He pushes away a pair of latex gloves that hang over the edge of a shelf above is head. Then he leans down. And there's a squelch.

I giggle embarrassed and shove my face against his chest to muffle the sound. Perhaps I shouldn't have worn my snow boots with holes in them, when sliding along the suspiciously wet floor.

"This is ridiculous" he murmurs. "Maybe one of the girls left one in the kitchen".

"Doubt it" I reply, urging him out of the room. "If they did then they've probably eaten all of the berries and tried to replace them with cherries".

"Cherries?" he says, stepping out of the room, shutting the door behind him. "I assume you've still got one?".

I sputter and slap his arm at the innuendo. He laughs quietly. The vulgar, dirty man.

"What?" he says teasingly, "I thought you were going to show me all of you secrets". When I ignore him he wraps his arm around my waist and walks me the wall, opposite the end of the staircase. I stare out of the large window. Why make me follow him if he doesn't know where the mistletoe is?

He nudges me gently and I glance up at him.

"Come on" he whispers reaching into his waistcoat's pocket. "Humour me?". He pulls out a small piece of the plant and holds it above our heads.

"I didn't know we could bring our own". He chuckles again and I blush. I'm not that funny. The two berries allow the plant to command kisses - or at least that's what many believe.

He leans down and rubs his nose against mine. I smile. Is this how teenagers show affection?

"Honour me with a kiss… Katniss".

With a breath of courage I lean up and kiss him gently with a brush of our lips. I pull away and bite my lip feeling accomplished. I did it! I kissed a boy! No - a man!

His words cause me to freeze.

"That's it?", Peeta says, his voice full of disappointment. I let out a shaky breath.

I did it wrong.

He refuses to open his eyes, even after I beg him too. When he speaks though, his reason reminds me of a child's.

"Well that was hardly a privilege". I sniffle confused and he continues. "I believe I deserve a little longer than that".

I cough out a laugh. "Is that another innuendo?".

He cuts me off with a kiss, smiling against my lips. His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls me closer to him, taking my bottom lip between his own.

When we separate he open his eyes and winks. I shake my head and look away. My skin must be permanently stained crimson.

"Here" he whispers "Before he finds out and kills us". I turn back as he opens my palm and places one of the berries in it. He opens his mouth and so do I as we feed one another the berries.

I chew slowly watching him, but the taste changes from sweet to distinctly sour. "I think these are gone off" I state looking around to spit it out. I could look for a bucket but that means I'd have to leave Peeta's presence.

He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a small napkin that we can spit into. I scowl afterwards. That wasn't very attractive.

"Well then" Peeta says, wiping his mouth. "I suppose none of this counts if the berries aren't right".

I inhale sharply.

"It doesn't?" I ask disappointed. Will he find another girl to kiss next Christmas. Perhaps one that young and blonde or more bubbly and endearing than I?

A light flicks on in the master's quarters, reflecting though the window.

Peeta's voice drops to a husky whisper as he leans close once again.

"No it doesn't", he pauses to gesture at the plant, "So we better go find another one".