Chapter 1

Peeta Mellark took a deep breath, rolled his head and cracked his neck. "In with the good air, out with the bad air." He opened the employee entrance door and tip-toed towards the lockers. The aroma of fresh baked bread mixed with the scent of pies, cakes, muffins, and cookies warmed his chest. He took a black and white cookie off the rack. Eaten with a Yoo-Hoo, it was the breakfast of champions.

"Peeta Mellark."

The high pitched screech reminded him of fingernails on a blackboard. "Good morning ..." He swallowed. "Mother."

Peeta towered over his five-foot-nothing mother but she managed to back him up against the wall. She waved a wooden spoon in front of his face. Chocolate spattered on his face and the wall like he just witnessed a mob murder.

"Do you know how much work you have today?" He shook his head.

"Besides your regular cakes you have the Cologino wedding cake."

Peeta's eyes got tremendous.

"It's five layers." She leaned in. "Have you heard me? Five layers!"

He nodded.

"And it better be perfect. You know who the bride's father is, don't you?"

He shook his head.

"Let's put it this way, it's hard to walk with broken kneecaps."

His body shook.

"And wipe your face. It's filthy."

Peeta exhaled. At least, he didn't have to hump fifty-pound bags off the delivery truck today. That job fell to his brothers.

"Hey Peeta," Rye said from across the backroom. He flipped him the middle finger. "Go decorate your pretty cakes."

He shrugged.

Peeta finished all the regular cakes and was finishing up the wedding cake. He filled the piping bag with white icing and made little white flowers around the edge.

"Those are nice. They look like the white arrowhead flowers in the meadow back home," his father said.

Peeta stopped and peered at them. A broad smile appeared on his face. He chuckled to himself.

"Hey."

Peeta jumped to attention.

"You finish that cake yet?"

"Almost done Mother."

"You better be. Cologino's men will be here soon to pick it up and I don't have any plans to push you around in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.

Peeta finished, untied his apron and tossed it in the hamper from twenty feet. "Swish, two points." He raced to the exit.

"You're in a hurry," his brother said.

"I am. I've been inspired and I don't want to lose it."

He caught Rye flipping him the bird out of the corner of his eye. "Thanks for the help a-hole."

"No problem bro."

Peeta's feet splashed in every puddle he stepped in as he ran home. The early afternoon shower washed the grime down the sewer. He took a deep breath of fresh air before the usual smells of the city returned.

He was soaked when he reached his building. The stairs were no match for him in this inspired state. Through his door one piece of clothing after another flew off his body as he ran to get dry clothes. Loose sweatpants and an oversized football jersey, both covered in a dizzying array of colors, was his artist uniform.

Peeta Mellark baked for a living, but he painted to live. His ability to mix colors was unparalleled. His yellows were brighter, blues deeper and reds more intense. He could paint objects, but his ability to paint people set him apart. When you looked into the eyes of his subjects you could almost see into their soul. Like every other struggling artist in the city, he had yet to be discovered.

He filled the canvas with the small white flowers, stepped back and had dinner. Next was a challenge.

After he shoved his dinner down he stared at the painting. He wore a path in the carpet pacing in front of it. When he tried to sit he crossed and uncrossed his arms and legs. The focal point of the painting was stuck in his head.

Peeta lowered his head till his chin rested on his chest. He looked at his palette and tested mix after mix trying to find the perfect balance to contrast with the white flowers.

He rubbed his arms and poured white on a new palette. Then he mixed it with a minute amount of blue. It cooled the white, but would it stand out?

"The hell with it, here we go."

The brush floated across the canvas like it had a mind of its own. With each stroke, the painting came alive.

Peeta's best friend and fellow artist, Finnick O'Dair critiqued the painting. He looked at it up close, from across the room, from the right and then the left. All the time Peeta stood behind him biting his nails.

"You know you'll bleed if you keep biting your nails like that," Finnick said.

Peeta widened his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. "How do you know I'm biting my nails."

With one eyebrow raised Finnick turned around. "You always do that when you're waiting for my opinion."

"Alright, forget about my nasty habits, what do you think."

Finnick smiled and patted Peeta on the back. "My friend, you've outdone yourself this time. She's perfect."

A girl in a white prairie skirt and white top strolled through the meadow. That little bit of blue in the dress was enough for it to stand out. She had black hair and dark eyes. Her head turned slightly downwards, but she looked upwards with a tight-lipped, shy smile.

Peeta let out a long breath. "Thanks, Finnick."

"Who was the model?"

"I didn't use one. I just used my imagination."

"I'm not surprised."

"What does that mean?"

"You've been describing your perfect girl to me forever. The height, hair color, length, eyes."

Peeta snarled at Finnick.

"Don't look at me like that." Finnick flashed his perfect white teeth andPeeta relaxed. "What do you call it?"

Peeta turned and stared at the painting. "Haven't thought of a title yet."

"What are those little white flowers?"

"We have them at home. They're called arrowhead or katniss."

"I like katniss, call it that."

"Then katniss it is. Its name is Katniss, no, her name is Katniss." Peeta stepped back and admired his work. "You know, she really is beautiful."

"Come on. We have a party to go to."

Peeta pursed his lips and averted his eyes. He scratched his arm like a rash appeared out of nowhere. "I don't know Finnick. I'm really not in the mood."

"Oh no you don't, you're not backing out on me again. You're my wingman."

The purpose of a wingman is to keep the friend of the girl Finnick was hitting on busy. "No, I hate being the wingman." He tried to create an excuse by rubbing his temples.

"Don't give me that I've got a headache bullshit." He smacked Peeta on the arm. "Come on, I need you. I got my eye on this cute redhead. She has the greenest eyes."

"What's her name?"

"Amy, I think. No, it's Ally." Finnick put his hands on his hips and looked away. "You know, it might be Abby."

"You don't know?"

"Angie, that's it."

"Are you sure?"

"Not really, but I know it starts with an 'A' and ends with a 'y'."

"Angie ends in an 'ie'."

"Or an 'ie'."

Peeta shook his head. "Nevermind that, you're giving me a headache. What's your move?"

"I'm gonna ask her to model for me. Girls are suckers for that."

Peeta frowned. "I don't know, I think I'll work on the painting."

"She's already perfect. There are like a gazillion girls out there who are not five foot eight, dark black hair and eyes so dark you can't tell the difference between her pupil and iris who are real flesh and blood waiting to meet you."

Peeta shook his head. "I date all types of girls. Remember Lisa, Olivia, and Katie. And that was just in the last couple of months."

"Why didn't you have any second dates?"

"Things just didn't click."

"Bull. Lisa was too short. Olivia was tall but a redhead. Katie was tall enough with dark hair but had green eyes."

Peeta felt his blood pressure rise. He folded his arms and glared at Finnick. "Alright, whatever, let me take a shower and change."

"That's the spirit." He smacked Peeta on the back. "Hey, maybe you'll meet your Katniss there."

"Did you have a good time?" Finnick asked.

"Yeah, thanks for dragging me. I've kinda let my social life go to the dogs."

"That's not true. Dogs usually get laid more often."

"Hey, you struck out tonight too." Peeta fumbled for his keys. "Did you ever find out that redhead's name? You worked on her long enough."

"All I know it isn't any of the ones I thought it was."

"Better luck next time." Peeta slumped his head.

Finnick slapped Peeta's arm. "Don't worry bud. You didn't find her tonight. Maybe you'll find her tomorrow."

When Peeta nodded his head it was only to placate his friend. "You're right Finnick. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Peeta sat in the recliner and stared at the portrait. He questioned who Katniss was. Did he imagine her, or was she out there somewhere? What was she like? What were her wants and needs? Her desires? Was she around now or has she been dead for hundreds of years. "I don't think I'll ever get answers to those questions." Peeta went off to bed. Maybe the answers will come to him in his dreams.

"Peeta. Wake up Peeta." Her voice was as welcome as the sunrise that starts to warm a cool morning. Peeta did not want to get up. This was the best dream he had in a long time. "Come on Peeta, time to get up."

Peeta stretched before opening his eyes. "Why does this dream have to end?" Peeta opened them and standing above him was the girl of his dreams. She had long black hair and deep brown eyes. He tried to peer into her soul when he looked into her eyes. "I guess the dream didn't end."

She leaned down, and her lips were so soft he melted. "Don't be silly, it's time to get up." She walked away from the bed and stripped off her nightgown.

"Wow!"

"Is that all you have to say?" She asked. "I'm taking a shower. You're welcome to join me."

Peeta couldn't help but stare at her perfect butt. "Wow." ... ring ... ring ... ring "Hey Finnick."

"How you fellin'? Hungover?"

"Nah, you just woke me from the best dream I ever had. There was a girl in it who was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. She had just stripped down to take a shower. I was staring at her perfect ass when you woke me."

"Sorry bud. Maybe if you go back to sleep you'll get laid."

Peeta laughed, and it felt good. "I can't believe how real it was. I can still hear the shower running."

"Hey, that's funny, I can hear your shower running too."

He got up to look in the bathroom. "You're right. The shower is on." He opened the door and pulled away the curtain.

"Hey handsome, decided to join me."

Peeta stood straight up, stepped back and slipped on the wet floor. The phone dropped. "Wo, wo, wo, ahhhhh!"

The girl grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower. "Oh my God honey, are you alright?" Peeta looked like he just saw a ghost. "You're as white as a sheep. Let me see if you're running a fever." She reached over to kiss his forehead, but he scurried away dragging his butt along the floor until he hit the hallway wall. "What is wrong with you Peeta?"

His heart raced. He didn't know who this strange woman was, but she was kinda familiar. The black hair and the dark brown eyes that pierced you. "Just tell me who you are."

"Oh my God Peeta, I think we should call an ambulance. You hit your head harder than I thought."

"No, no, no. Just tell me who you are."

She softened up but Peeta didn't relax. She knelt on the floor in front of him and stroked his face. Peeta barely felt her touch.

"Just tell me your name. Please."

"I'm your girlfriend, Katniss."

Now he knew something was up. "Did Finnick put you up to this."

She rolled her eyes. "You know, you talk about Finnick all the time but you've yet to introduce me. I'm beginning to believe you have an imaginary friend." She put out her hand and helped him to his feet.

"You don't understand. My painting is called Katniss. Because ... well ... just look at this." He took her by the hand to his studio. "Here look." He pulled the cover off it. "See."

She just nodded. "I know Peeta. They look like the flowers that you have back home. You've told me this over and over."

He shook his head. "No! The woman!" Peeta looked at the flowers that filled the page. And just the flowers. "Where'd she go?"

"Who?"

"The girl, Katniss. She was in the painting"

She raised one eyebrow. "In case you haven't noticed, Katniss is standing right in front of you." She grabbed his shirt, pulled him down to her and planted a powerful kiss on his lips. "Did that feel like a kiss from a painting?"

Peeta shook his head.

"So it felt real?"

He nodded.

"So, why don't you get undressed and make me an hour late." She walked away and dropped the towel.

Peeta's legs almost gave way looking at her sway her hips. "I'm right behind you!"

"Peeta, you still on the line? Hello, hey don't leave me hanging. Oh shit, I'm just gonna hang up." ...click

A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews are very helpful so please take a second and review. :)