Hey, this is my first Hunger Games fanfic and I strangely like this pairing :) I rewrote this chapter, fixing mistakes and stuff so I hope it has improved. Thank you so much for the reviews and the advice you gave me about the spelling and grammar. I am grateful that you took the time to read this story and give me advice. I hope you like it and that I have fixed all or at least most of the mistakes! Haha, I was half asleep when I was writing it :P

I find myself staring at him again. I quickly turn away, coming up with excuse after excuse as to why I was looking at him, why i'm still peering at him from where I sit crouched at the knot-tying station in the training centre. I'm only checking out the competition, he is very handy with a spear, which makes him lethal at a distance. He could be one to watch out for in the arena. I tell myself that this is reason enough and try to concentrate on my knot tying skills. I am not obsessed.

This isn't coming along too well, I think as I frown at the messof rope in my hands. Unconciously, my eyes wander over to the bow and arrow station. I'm just itching to go over there and pick up that bow, feel the weight of the shiny silver weapon in my hands, feel the pull of the drawstring against my fingers as i pull it back in preparation to release the arrow. I close my eyes for a moment and remember what it was like back in District 12. I never would have thought i would long to go back there but I do now. I miss Prim, my mother, even Buttercup, that mangy old cat that Prim so desperately begged me to keep. Most of all I miss Gale. I sigh, eyes still closed, as I remember times with Gale. Things weren't good back in our District, but we made do with what we had. I always felt my happiest out in the woods with Gale.

'Not a very appropriate tim eto be napping, is it?' I find Peeta's face looking down at me when I open my eyes. I suppress a groan as I stand up, wishing Haymitch had not instructed us to stick together during training. What is the point when we will be fighting each other to the death in the arena in a few days time? I would love to go off by myself but in a way, I suppose staying with Peeta is good because if I was on my own I wouldn't trust myself not to rush over to the bow and arrow station. I politely ask Peeta where he would like to go next and follow him to the camoflauge section.

I soon realise I am usless at this, although Peeta seems to be in his element. As I watch, he is thoroughly enjoying himself, painting his hand and forearm various shades of brown, black and red, even purple as it slowly starts to tranform into treebark.

Feeling absolutely no enthusiasm for this activity, my eyes start to wander around the training room. It is magnificent, there is no denying it, although I can't help but feel disgusted at the Capitol. They set up this to help us train, and for what? To kill each other.

Somehow, my eyes once again find him. He has moved on from spears now, and is trying out a mace. He swings it around a few times but seems to be having some trouble with it. I feel a sudden urge to go over and join him. I frown. I am NOT obsessed!not, not, not. . . . . . .

I once again try to convince myself that I feel nothing for this boy, that my strange pull towards him is not, in fact, towards him, but towards the weapons. Yes, that would be it. I just want to try out some new weapons. I feel like I am wasting time here, trying to do something I obviously won't ever be able to do. Yes, just the mace calling to me. Nothing to do with the boy from District 1. Nothing at all. Not even his amazing looks. . . . . . . .

I snap myself out of the dream. Did I just think that?No, I can't have. No, it's just the pressure of all this getting to me. The frustration of not being able to tie a stupid knot or paint a stupid tree on my hand!I have never really thought of boys romantically, maybe Gale a bit before, but it wasn't like that with us, we were just friends and I know that's all I'll ever want to be with him. I am certainly NOT attracted to this boy from District 1. . . . I don't even know his name for crying out loud!

All my sudden confidence about walking over to where he was standing and having a go at that mace. . . . It is gone. I know it's all in my head, he doesn't know what I was thinking, but how can I trust myself not to say something stupid? How can I trust myself to stop a blush coming to my cheeks? Why am I even contemplating going over to socialise with careers? I don't care about them, I don't care what they think of me. I despise every single one of them.

But my eyes still flicker over to where the district 1 boy is standing and for a split second he looks at me. I almost jump, but manage to keep my gaze steady. I am not intimidated by him. He looks away and throws the mace but it falls to the ground several inches from the target and clutches his arm in pain from the weight of it. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing but something on my face must show, because when he suddenly glances over at me, his eyes narrow and he glares. I do not care. I hold my head high to show that I am not to be intimidated.

Selfish, overly-confident, show off, jerk. . . . . . . . . .

I think of every bad thing I can think about him and make a list in my head. I smile as it is quite long.

I realise that I am wasting precious time in the training centre, sitting here doing nothing as I wait for Peeta to finish his masterpiece. Jaw set determinedly, I set off for the spear throwing station almost immediately, without even bothering to give Peeta an explanation.

I arrive at the spear throwing station and reach for one of the long, steely weapons.

My hand closes around the spear just as another does and when I look up, i find myself looking up into the beautiful emerald green eyes of the boy from District 1.