That fall I saw Katniss's little sister at the festival. Primrose Everdeen was dancing around in her old patched up dress and worn out shoes and looked like a little princess. How old was she now? Eleven...twelve? She looked nothing like Katniss, with her two long blond braids, light skin the same shade as my own, and shining blue eyes. She was very pretty though and it was easy to tell that the boys at school would be fighting over her within another year or two. I stood and watched her skip and dash around for a moment, enjoying the fact that she was obviously having so much fun. I couldn't get over how different from Katniss she was...brooding, dark Katniss with her sharp tongue and sense of carrying the weight of the world. This little girl was so carefree and full of life. I could almost see her innocent happiness radiating off of her like an aura. But then, Primrose was only able to be like that because of Katniss, wasn't she? Katniss had to carry the weight that her depressed, dead beat mother refused to handle and take care of that little girl so Primrose could have her innocence. Primrose was more like Katniss's own baby than just a little sister. If Katniss's father hadn't been killed, would she have been dancing around in an old pink dress at this festival too? Could I have had the opportunity to dance with her?

I don't know how long Katniss stood behind me before I sensed someone was close and turned. She seemed unaware of me and was also watching Primrose dance with just the faintest of smiles on her beautiful face. Unlike Prim, who was beautiful in her youth and innocence, Katniss was beautiful despite everything she had been robbed of. Her olive skin was beautiful despite all the tiny marks and scars that she had from years of hunting in the wild and unforgiving woods outside our district. Her face was beautiful despite the tired look in her eyes and dark circles below them telling me she hadn't been getting enough sleep for some reason. Her grey eyes were beautiful despite everything they had held witness to in her life. Their father had done an unwittingly good job at naming the girls. Little Primrose was like her name, pretty and proper and something someone would want there as a luxury. Katniss was the opposite. She was sturdy and useful...and even though Katniss isn't a plant that someone would plant for it's beauty, it is beautiful if you go out to where it lives in the forest and look for it.

"Are you sweet on my baby sister, Mellark?" A voice from beside me demands.

I startle at it...I hadn't realized that I was still staring. "What? Your sister? No! I mean, ew!" Good job, Peeta, no I've managed to insult her sister. She glares at me as if contemplating whether I deserve a punch in the gut. From her angle I probably do.

"No, I mean, she's very pretty...she's a very pretty little girl. I was just thinking about how different you too are." Great, and now I'm insinuating that Katniss isn't pretty. Jeez...just shut up! "Not that you aren't pretty too. You know I've always thought you are beautiful." I watch as she watches me stumble over myself in a very uncharacteristic manner. Usually, I am much better spoken than this...what is wrong with me? She almost appears to be amused until I get to the part about thinking she is beautiful. Then she just looks confused and obviously doesn't know what to say to me.

Thankfully, I am saved when my father comes up to us and asks if I can man our family's booth for a while so my brother can dance with his fiancee. I nod and thank him. He turns and smiles at Katniss.

"Hello Katniss! How are you doing today?" He asks brightly. He knows good and well that I have been in love with Katniss ever since the day he pointed her out to me at the age of five. He turns and slyly gives me a wink.

"I'm good. How are you?" She responds politely.

"Good, good. Had some real nice squirrel stew last night for supper. But I was hoping you could do me a favor, Katniss."

"What do you need?" She asks, hesitantly. I wonder what he is up to as well.

"Well, my wife is feeling under the weather today and had to stay at home. Nothing serious, but I want to go back and check in on her. Can you help Peeta at the bakery booth for an hour? I'll pay you in a loaf of whatever kind of bread you want and a bag of cookies for you and your sister."

A loaf of bread and six cookies for an hour. Surely, she must know that he was grossly overpaying her. I couldn't help but smile. I love my dad. He really does try to help me out whenever he gets the chance. I had to suppress a chuckle. My mother wasn't even sick, she just wanted to stay home and laze around today. I can almost see the wheels turning in Katniss's head...surely she must know how much he is overpaying her. She isn't stupid.

"I'll be happy to help you, but you need'nt pay so much. Half a loaf is more than fair."

My father just smiled kindly at her and shook his head. "We baked too much for today. We won't be able to sell it all and half of it will end up ruined. Besides" he motioned over to Primrose, who was still happily dancing out in the crowd of school children "do you really want to deny her a little treat? She's growing up fast you know."

I watched Katniss grimace at his last comment and then nod in agreement. "Alright, thanks."

"Thank you. Alright Peeta, I'm going to head home then. You just follow Peeta; he knows what to do." I watched my dad walk away and turned to Katniss.

"Come on." I motioned for her to follow as I walked over to the booth at the other side of the fair to relieve Rye and his fiancee, Emily. Rye gave me a questioning glance when he noticed Katniss, but was smart enough not to comment about the situation in front of her. I knew that he had probably been expecting dad to come back with me. Still, neither of them could get out of that booth and out to the festival fast enough and soon I was left with an awkward Katniss standing a few feet away looking at the dirt.

A customer came up and ordered some Cranberry nut bread and handled it. Katniss still just stood there. It was obvious she was waiting on me to give her directions, but honestly there just wasn't anything for her to really do. Even when a long line formed a few minutes later I easily could have handled it by myself. Still, we wordlessly managed to form a system to speed things along even farther. She would collect and count the money from the customers as there were only a few different prices and that bit was fairly straightforward and I would collect the goods for them and package it up. Forty five minutes into working together we still had not exchanged one single word, but I could smell the woodsy smell in her hair and got to enjoy watching her work so closely. Every time I look at her she is more beautiful.

After the last customer had come and gone and the festival was staring to wind down, I went to the back table to gather up her payment.

"What sort of bread and cookies do you like?" I asked her, sorely wishing I had more time before I had to let her go.

She came up behind me. "What kinds do you have left?" She asked from very, very close behind me. I turned to look at her, my back pressed against the table holding all the left over goods. We had a good business day, but I was lucky in that there was just one or two of each of the breads left. She could choose whatever she liked. I tried to think of which was the most fattening or nutritious.

"Um, we still have at least one of each. You can get whatever you want...cranberry nut bread, raisin nut bread, plain wheat, zucchini..." I tried to list everything.

"Raisin nut." She stated. Immediately, my mind traveled back to the day I tossed the bread to her before. One of those was raisin nut. Secretly, it made me happy to know that she at least got something she liked. I nodded to her and packaged up the bread securely in paper and then went over to the cookies.

"What about the cookies, you want chocolate chip, sugar, walnut.." I list all ten varieties. I watched her eyebrows raise, as if she was surprised about something. "What?" I ask, curious.

"I just didn't realize there were so many types." She states.

I smile "here." I take one of each and tie them into bread paper since they wouldn't all fit into a cookie bag. I would simply tell my mother I dropped the other four if she said anything. She could hit me if she wanted.

"No, no. That's okay. Your father was already overpaying me." She states with a guilty tone.

I wasn't about to let her leave with anything less than all ten though. She would split all of them with her sister and then probably give half of her share to her mother anyway and wouldn't end up with much of anything. I wanted her to go home and have a proper meal. Winter would be coming up soon and when it did there would be very little game. She need every calorie she could get. Feeling bold, I reach out and touch her shoulder. I can tell she is uncomfortable, but she doesn't flinch away.

"Please, Katniss. Just don't be so stubborn." I need to make her understand. Please. I look at her. I'm met with a look of bewilderment.

"Why do you care, Peeta?" She asks, her tone somewhere between offended and apologetic.

I look her square in the eye, unable to answer her verbally but almost certain she could understand if she would just look. She took a step backwards, but didn't refuse the cookies when I tried to hand them to her again. For a moment, she just stood there with my hand still touching her upper arm and then she was gone. As usual, I watched her walk away to collect her sister and then watched them head in the direction of their little shack, already sharing one of the cookies I had packaged for her until they disappeared over the hill. Just before they walked out of sight, though, for the briefest of moments, I could've sworn Katniss turned her head back to me and smiled.