Short filler chapter. All mistakes belong to me, everything else does not. Come check me out on tumblr (tributeforthewolfpack)!

Peeta's side of the bed is cold when I wake up the next morning and the hotel is silent. The only evidence he was there at all is the note on his pillow.

Katniss,

I had an early morning and you looked too peaceful to wake. Help yourself to room service. Annie requests a lunch date with you today, Haymitch will pick you up. Don't wait up for me.

-Peeta

I frown. It had only been a few days but I had found myself loving the mornings, waking up in a plush bed, with Peeta in the kitchen preparing a five course breakfast for the two of us, talking about whatever our heart desires before he'd get up and get ready for a day filled with numbers and figures and I'd find purchase on the uncomfortable couch until he kissed me goodbye.

I didn't like that Peeta worked the he did, spending more time in the office under Alma Coin's control than he did enjoying himself. He's too nice and far too good not to be seen by more of the world. In all the time I've known him, Peeta has only truly smiled once. Last night when we spent most of the night laying wrapped up in each other's arms in the sand of the Odair's private beach, Peeta had got to talking about one of his favorite childhood past times, painting, he liked drawing landscapes and sunsets the best and had been practicing the human figure when his mother found out about his frivolous hobby and made him quit. I suggested that he should draw me sometime, like a beautiful French model, and he smiled; a smile that reached all the way up to his beautiful blue eyes that sparkled with passion. A twenty-eight needs more smiles like that in his life.

I forgo breakfast and lie in bed and think about the glimpse of Peeta's childhood that he shared with me. It makes me feel like I should share a bit of my history with him, but also brings a scary feeling to the pit of my stomach. I haven't shared my past with anybody, I haven't spoken about it aloud it happened, since I skipped town on my last fifty dollars.

By the time it's time for me to get ready for my lunch date I've worked myself into a panic; a panic about my past, something I cannot change. Horrid visuals race past my eyelids as I squeeze them shut and try to control my breathing. It's not working though, I can feel and see and smell them like I'm sixteen again. I've done so good to suppress all of these memories, worked too hard for them to come flooding back all at once like this.

I have to pull myself together, I can't fall apart now. Not on this fancy hotel floor, not while Peeta is paying me to act professional. I get myself to the bathroom and practically throw myself into a cold shower, still in my silk nightgown. It clings to my body as I fight to get it off, but finally I do, and the freezing pellets of water assaults my skin leaving it red.

I cannot bear for the prep team to come and see like a mess, so I opt to plait my damp hair down my back and pinch my cheeks to regain some sort of color on my skin. I throw on a floral print cropped pair of skinny jeans and a plain white blouse and a pair of orange ballet flats, hoping that the place I am meeting Annie at isn't too formal, I'm still not sure what the correct dress code is at most places I've frequented over the three days I've played this part.

It turns out that Annie is dressed similarly to me, nice slacks and a blouse with her hair pulled up in a bun on the top of her head.

"I hope this isn't weird for you, getting lunch with someone you've only met once," Annie says as she lightly hugs me before taking the seat in front of me in a small café.

If only she knew that I've done much weirder. "Oh no, I really enjoyed the party last night and Peeta left before I even woke up this morning so you saved me from a day of boredom really."

"Peeta's work habits are so unhealthy! I wouldn't be able to stand it if Finnick worked as much as Peeta did."

"We're not married," or even dating, "so it's not like I can tell what to do. We just met really."

"Well, he's a great catch really. If anything, his work pattern shows his dedication."

Annie and I begin talking about nothing too personal, we mostly stick to topics that revolve around Peeta, which gets my head spinning with an idea. I suddenly couldn't wait until tomorrow. I want to see that smile again, I crave the feeling it gives me in the pit of my stomach, and I know just how to get it.

I bid Annie a farewell with a quick hug before sliding into the back of Haymitch's town car. I ask him to make a quick pit stop before returning to the hotel to gather supplies. Once in the privacy of the hotel room I make the bold move of calling up Effie to ask her what Peeta's schedule looked like tomorrow and decides some sort of charity auction that would take place at night, he'd just spend the day in the office going over more paper work. I ask her to clear Peeta's schedule but by no means tell him that I've asked her to do so, surprisingly she agrees. I spend the rest of the day setting up my plan with a giddy smile on my face.

I'm not sure what has gotten into me, I have never acted like this before, especially for a man; a man who is paying me for my services nonetheless. But here I am, planning out this entire thing just to see Peeta smile again. I blame it on the fact that deep down I hate seeing people I care about unhappy; and deep down I care about Peeta and I know that he's unhappy, no amount of money can change the way you feel.

It's well past sunset before I hear the room door open and close. I wait in the bedroom while Peeta sighs heavily and opens the fridge; I left a plate of room service for him and by the sound of the microwave opening and shutting he's found it. I become restless when it's been an hour and Peeta still isn't present. I forgo the hotel robe and set out to find Peeta in another one of my new skimpy nightgowns.

He's sitting with his back towards me at the breakfast bar, face in his hands slumped over the untouched plate of food.

"Peeta?" I call to him in a small voice.

I startle him. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I haven't been to sleep yet. I've been waiting for you," I stride over to him.

Peeta swivels in his chair and allows me to step in between his legs; his large hands find a home around my waist. My head immediately falls to his chest, the constant beat of his heart is soothing. "I told you not to wait up," he murmurs gently in my ear.

"I know but I had something I needed to tell you."

"And what is that?"

"You're spending the entire day with me tomorrow."

"Katniss, I can't," I sigh.

"Yes you can, I've already cleared it with Effie. You need a break Peeta, clear your head and enjoy your youth. When was the last time you enjoyed yourself?"

"The other night, with you," Peeta looks at me and smirks.

I playfully slap his chest and pretend to be offended. "I mean really enjoyed yourself."

Peeta pauses for a moment to think back to that time. "I don't remember, honestly."

"Good, now come to bed Mr. Mellark, I'm feeling like your enjoyment should start sooner rather than later."

I turn and saunter back to the bedroom while swaying my hips all the same. I don't need to turn back to know that Peeta is obediently behind me like a dog waiting for his treat.

I fall asleep with a smile on my face from the late night romp and wake up sprawled out on Peeta's chest with the same smile still plastered on my lips. Peeta is still sleeping soundly and I hate to wake him but I'm too eager to show him what I've prepared to not straddle to naked waist and trail a series of wet kisses down his neck and chest.

"What did I do to deserve a beautiful woman kissing me awake?" Peeta asks in his morning voice, his eyes only open marginally but I can still see his blue iris' shining.

"You're paying me quite a bit of money," I smirk.

"Oh that's right. It pays to be wealthy."

"Mhm," I slide off of him to retrieve my nightgown. "Come on Mr. Mellark, I'm hungry."

Being in the kitchen makes Peeta happy so for the first part of my surprise I've had the kitchen stocked with everything that you'd need to make those cheese buns Peeta made for me the first morning together and pancakes. When I asked if Peeta would teach me how to make them, his face lit up and he shook his head eagerly.

I don't have the patience for this type of cooking and stand at the counter with tacky dough sticking to my fingers and underneath my short nails. Peeta doesn't get upset or frustrated though; instead he smiles brighter and moves to stand behind me, intertwining our fingers together after adding more flour to turn the lumpy mass into a beautiful elastic ball.

"We've got to wait a bit for the dough to rise some more," Peeta tells me as he moves away from me and goes to wash his hands in the sink.

"I can think of some things we can do to pass the times," I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.

"Really and what might that be?"

I don't answer him right away and instead take my time and wash my hands. Once I'm done I turn around to find Peeta only inches away from me, the closeness is intoxicating and I almost find myself leaning in for an actual kiss. But I don't and I quickly myself that Peeta is just a client; at most a friend.

"I'll give you a hint Mr. Mellark, it doesn't involve any clothes and we both get very dirty."