Well, hello there! So nice to see you again.

I know what you're thinking... nope, not Friday yet. I'd promised myself that if I gained ten more followers before the next story update, I'd add another chapter. I'd like to consider myself a woman of word, so here it is. :)

So for realsies now, I'll see ya'll on Friday. ;)

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Enjoy!


But I do, so I unwrap my arms stiffly around him and take a few steps back, not brave enough to look him in the face. I can feel him both and Prim staring at me and so I pick up her duffel just to have something to do.

"So… we leaving or what?" I mumble, staring at my hands in concentration.

"Um… yes. Lets. I'm sure Prim is hungry by now," he says smoothly, as if the hug never happened.

I'm not going to lie, there's a part of me that feels the tiniest bit disappointed. He didn't hug me back, mostly since I'd wrapped my arms in a vice-like grip around him. Not to mention he was probably shocked motionless.

"I did have a light snack on the plane," Prim admits.

"Yes, but snack isn't the same thing as meal," he tells her playfully.

She laughs and I stare at their backs.

I hate feeling so left out. Especially by my little sister! Can't blame her too much, though...

They chatter comfortably and I remain in silence, suddenly wondering how I'd feel if she and Peeta were to get together. She is certainly of age to have a boyfriend. Though to be honest, I thought there was something going on between her and Rory. She always claimed they were "friends" though.

Her and Peeta, on the other hand…

She would have everything at her fingertips. She'd live in his mansion with him and she would definitely go to college then. He would give her everything she'd need and then some. He'd take care of her well and would love her, protect her. So why do I have an uneasy feeling about it?

We finally arrive at our car and Peeta opens the door for her, to which she smiles in thanks and slides in carefully meanwhile I knock on the trunk to store her bag with mine. He turns to me, his smile as bright as ever and I nod my head and start to slide in, not as carefully, accidentally bumping my head on the doorframe.

"Ouch!" I cry, plopping down next to Prim and rubbing my forehead furiously.

Peeta slides in quickly and looks at me worriedly, his fingers twitching.

"Katniss are you okay?" they all ask.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a small case of ineptness," I tell them, closing my eyes.

"Oh, Katniss! You should really be careful! This isn't like you at all," Prim scolds me gently.

Well, sorry perfect Prim. We can't all be like you, enchanting movie stars alike.

I snap my eyes open at my bitterness and frown, causing my forehead to hurt even more.

"Duly noted," I answer shortly. "Anyway, this is my little sister Primrose."

She turns away from me and smiles brightly at Effie and Haymitch, extending her slim hand out to them.

"Prim," she says sweetly, correcting me.

Although I initially had my questions about Haymitch, I can see that he is completely taken by her. He's smiling normally at her and nodding intently as she talks to them.

I feel a strange jealousy pass through me. She's always been better with connecting to people while I, on the other hand, shun them.

Maybe I could learn a thing or two from her.

I suddenly remember I'm sitting next to Peeta when I feel his shoulder brush against mine. I look down at his calm hands, remembering how twitchy they looked before. I look up at his face and find him looking at me already.

"Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt," he says, frowning as his blue eyes flick up to my forehead.

"I'm fine, really. I wasn't expecting that at all," I answer honestly.

"You don't seem like a head in the clouds type of person," he replies jokingly.

I feel the corner of my lip tug upward but don't fully smile, opting instead to look at him questioningly.

"Oh? You think you know me after one date, Peeta Mellark?" I ask, arching my brow at him.

"Not really. But it's the impression you gave me," he chortles, shrugging a shoulder.

I stare at him and he looks back at me, arching his fair brow.

He looks so different from last night. It was as if he was playing the role of a famous movie star. Glamorous and sexy. But today he's like the boy the door, still handsome but much more approachable. Friendly and nice. But even last night he was that too. How does he do it?

Today he's wearing a royal blue shirt that makes his eyes look even deeper and brighter in comparison, making his eyelashes look even paler. I see his cheeks start turning pink as I continue to stare at him, no doubt wondering what my problem is. So I look away, embarrassed and focus my attention on Prim again, who is regaling Haymitch and Effie with a story about her cat, Buttercup.

Oh, that mangy creature. If I'd had it my way, I would have tossed it into the streets! But Prim supplicated and cried for the thing, knowing my soft spot for her. So we kept it. She took it to the vet because it wasn't in great health. As a matter of fact, we weren't even sure if it would make it, but with love and motivation she nursed it back to health. Now, it hisses at me, sensing my dislike of it. It's mutual, believe me.

Haymitch asks her a question to which she answers hesitantly.

"I left him with the Hawthorne's, close friends of ours."

At their last name I snap out of my reverie and turn to stare at her.

"How… did… how are they?" I stutter, her big blue eyes staring into mine.

"Well, you know Gale," she replies, her voice cool but her eyes telling me all I need to know. "He's busy with work, as always."

I groan silently, knowing perfectly how he reacted to Prim's coming here.

She starts telling me about the other Hawthorne's but I drown her voice out and think of Gale.

I'd be willing to bet he hates it. He probably thinks we're going to stay here for good, that perhaps money or popularity swayed my beliefs. Of course, if doing something meant Prim's well-being would guarantee it, I'd do it. Anything for her. I don't know what his problem is, thinking he could kiss me without any explanations and then just leaving. Does he think he owns me or something? That he should have a say in what I do? I'm starting to feel glad I stayed. I will never be the first to admit it out loud, but truth is, I really could use a vacation. Plus, Prim will appreciate everything Peeta shows her so much more than I could. Besides, they already seem to get along well…

"Ah, we're here," Peeta calls out and I realize we're parked on a massive driveway.

He opens the door and climbs out, holding it open for us. I climb out slowly, not wanting a repeat of what happened before I'd climbed in. Prim comes after me and we both stare at his two-story mansion, my jaw dropping open.

Peeta tells us that Effie and Haymitch won't be coming with us so we bid a distracted goodbye to them and turn back to his massive house.

He sweeps his arm over the set of stairs that lead to the front door and so we climb, Prim and I turning to look at each other with shock and admiration. He trails behind us, chuckling at our reaction to his home but eventually takes the lead to open the door. It's then I notice that he has our bags and it makes me uncomfortable to think that I actually forgot to grab my things because I was too busy gawking at his house. I start to grab mine but he just pulls it farther away from my grasp and grins. I narrow my eyes at him, barely holding back from sticking my tongue out at him.

"You're going to need to put them down to fetch your keys, you know," I tell him smugly, watching the grin slide off his face with satisfaction.

"Why can't you just let me be nice to you?" he mumbles and hands me my bag, reaching into his pocket for his keys.

He opens the door and lets us go through first and I feel even more shock looking at the inside of his house.

His floors are shiny, no doubt mopped this morning. To the left is his living room, his leather couches inviting and indisputably expensive. There is huge television that sits against the wall, directly opposite the loveseat. In the middle of his couches sits a rectangular coffee table, the remote and a few magazines stacked neatly on top. There are a few picture frames on the tidy shelves on the wall, but I'm too far to make out who it is in each one. Right under the television is a fireplace, built directly into the wall. It's full of beautiful pieces of wood, undoubtedly expensive as well.

"I could show you to your rooms, if you'd like?" Peeta offers, breaking my trance. "I'll give you a tour in a bit, don't worry."

We follow him and pass what looks to be his kitchen and dining room and reach a sweeping staircase. Upon arriving at the top he turns to us and smiles.

"That is my bedroom right there. The room across is locked but you can choose whatever room you want," he tells us, nodding toward his rooms. "They all look the same and all have a bathroom in it. Or you could share a room too; they're certainly big enough."

"She may be my older sister but I like having my own space!" Prim giggles.

I turn and give her a wintry glare but she just smiles pleasantly at me.

"I'll choose that room, if it's okay," I say, nodding to the room immediately to my left.

A strange look crosses Peeta's face but he pushes that away and smiles, gesturing for me to go inside.

"In that case, I'll take the one across!" Prim calls, running to her room.

I walk slowly to the door and poke my head inside. I feel my mouth drop open again but I close it quickly, not wanting to look overly dumb. The room is indeed vast. The furniture is all a matching deep mahogany. In the center sits the large four poster bed, its light and frothy curtains tied back. I walk in slowly and brush my fingers on them, amazed at how soft yet sturdy they feel. I look down at the bed and smile at the varying green and gold stripes that adorn the comforter on the bed. The plush pillows at the head of the bed look fluffy and inviting; two of them matching with the comforter and a few others are varying shades of green. The headboard has intricate carvings in them and I ache to run my fingers across it but hold back for now. I set my duffel at the foot of the bed and see the inviting brown couch perched next to the wide window, its curtains matching the ones on the bed. There's a nightstand next to the bed with a small vanity next to it. There's a television across the bed and there was a door that would undoubtedly be the restroom. The walls are a calm beige color and I find myself liking this room, despite the initial splendor of it all.

"Like it?" asks Peeta from behind.

I feel myself jump and turn to glare at him. He's leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on me. I feel my irritation melt and I sigh, shrugging my arms.

"Can I say no? It's beautiful, Peeta. You sure do work hard," I joke, giving him a little smile.

He laughs easily and shrugs a shoulder.

"Really, Peeta. It's more than I deserve. You said all guest rooms look alike, right?"

He nods in silence and continues watching me stare at this beautiful room.

"I'm going to feel like a princess, sleeping on that bed," I joke again.

"I'm glad," he answers simply, eyes serious.

I feel myself start to fidget under his scrutiny and take a seat at the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry. I just think… you deserve a lot better than what you give yourself credit for. I really want you to enjoy your days here, no matter how long or little your stay is, alright? You need anything, you tell me. I'm on your beck and call," he tells me.

I can hear Prim's squeals of delight as she jumps on the bed and I swallow thickly, looking into Peeta's intense blue gaze. Before I regret my decision, I jump up from the bed and rush into him, wrapping my arms around him. He freezes for a moment but then wraps his arms tightly around me.

"Thank you, Peeta. Nothing makes me happier than listening to my sister's happiness. You have done so much for us already… there is no way I could ever thank you. But I will. Somehow, someday," I whisper near his ear, feeling my throat close up with emotion.

Once again, I can feel his strong heartbeat and it calms me. I close my eyes for a moment, soaking up his warmth and happiness when I feel a sudden flutter in my gut. I frown, pulling away and clutching at it.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asks worriedly.

"I should be. Think I'm just hungry," I mutter, embarrassed.

He laughs softly and nudges me with his elbow. I look up at his face and he smiles sympathetically at me.

"Come on then. I think there might be something in the kitchen waiting for us," he winks at me and walks off.

I stare after him and then scramble to catch up to him. I swallow nervously as he calls for Prim to come join us. She skips toward us, a huge smile on her face. I smile uncertainly at her and watch him as we head down to his kitchen.

Like all of the other parts of his house, it's huge with a counter in the middle. There are barstools on one side, the top of the counter shiny, undoubtedly marble. There is a black stainless steel refrigerator with double doors. Next to the (black stainless steel) oven, there are two trays. He carries one over first and I see that's it has a dozen what seem to be buns on it. I lean closer and take a whiff and the heavenly scent of it makes my stomach grumble. He places the other tray next to it and it takes me a second to turn away from the bread to realize exactly what it is. They're a dozen iced cookies, with flowers drawn so real on them you'd swear it was the real thing pasted on there. Six of them are perfectly pink primroses, at which Prim was staring at in rapture. The other six were other flowers and I didn't really notice what they were except one. It was bright yellow and dainty.

It's a dandelion.

All of the cookies were beautiful, but for some reason, I couldn't look away from the dandelion. It made me feel like everything would turn out okay, strangely enough.

Why would he draw a dandelion? It's not a flower, it's a weed. Yet, with his touch, it's something equally beautiful to those other flowers he painted.

"Oh, Peeta! You baked these, didn't you? They're so beautiful, thank you SO much!" Prim sings out to him.

He just smiles cheerfully and shakes his head.

"I thought you'd like them."

"Like them? I love them! But how can I eat them when they're a work of art?" she pouts prettily.

He laughs, putting his hands in his pockets modestly.

"Well, there's more where that came from, believe me," he winks.

"Do those buns have cheese?" Prim asked knowingly, sniffing appreciatively.

"They sure do. How'd you know?"

"Because Katniss can't keep away from them! She loves cheesy things," she told him.

"Is that right?" Peeta muses.

I force myself to stop staring at the dandelion and turn to look at him, nodding stiffly. He just smiles beautifully at me, face radiating triumph.

"Well, dig in! What would you like to drink?"

"Milk, please."

"You, Katniss?"

"Um… same."

So Peeta pours some milk in a pair of crystal glasses and hands them to us.

"These are just some snacks. We'll have dinner in a couple of hours. I must admit that I don't often have dinner here, I find it too lonesome. But tonight we can dine in here since the dining table is far too big. I'm not a very good cook so I'll definitely call my help in," he says, face turning red.

"Ah, so there is something you can't do!" Prim teases him.

I take one of the cheese buns and bite into it, groaning softly as the spices and flavors weave themselves together on my tongue.

"Peeta, these are delicious," I tell him honestly.

He smiles shyly at me, looking at me from under his golden lashes. I take another bite and lose myself in the moment.

"The cookies are delicious too, Peeta! You really are your father's son, aren't you?" Prim exclaims proudly.

Peeta smiles but a sad expression passes through his face and I feel my heart soften for him.

He must miss his family so bad… but if he does, why aren't they living here with him?

After giving us the tour of his house, which included his patio, deck and pool we each go our own separate ways. He goes to make some calls into his study and Prim unpacks, singing loudly along with the television. I sit perched on the couch in my room, looking outside into the shining pool of dazzling blue water, lost in my own thoughts.

Peeta Mellark, master actor and baker extraordinaire. He's handsome, polite and kind. But he's also lonesome. He really is something, isn't he? An enigma, to be sure. Maybe during my stay here I'll find more about it. If anything, I could ask Prim. There's no doubt she knows everything there is to know about him. But maybe not yet, she'll probably think I like him or something. Maybe he'll tell me a bit about himself. Here's to hoping.

I sigh deeply, leaning my chin on my arms.

But why do I care so much? There's something vulnerable hidden deep in him. That even I can't help but want to take care of him. What nonsense, right?


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