Sorry about the wait, I was kind of nervous and a little discouraged when fics started getting nuked... But what can I do about it?

Oh yeah, post on AO3 under the username Falafel_waffel, also tumblr... Same username!

If for any reason this story gets deleted it will be found on AO3 as soon as I can get it up!

Today's song is The Golden Age by The Asteroid Galaxy Tour.

I don't own The Hunger Games, though... After today I can say I've seen the movie five times, I might be an addict.

Thank you Apecanin1 for being an epic beta. :D

Peeta

She was strange, Katniss Everdeen… Everything about her drew me to her. Though normally, I wouldn't give someone like her a second glance… She barely fit in inside my world full of golden colored blondes with blue eyes with her storm grey eyes and black hair.

Maybe that's what drew me to her, a change from the human Barbies my mother liked to throw at me. But she was so much more…

Her voice, oh God her voice… Even when she wasn't singing, it was like music… and her laughter.

Beautiful and sweet, like a songbird. My songbird.

Even when I saw her that night on stage, I knew I had to well… Know her.

Though it was next to impossible, Katniss Everdeen knew how to not leave much of a paper trail. Her school tuition was paid for on several scholarships and what wasn't went to an address down in Florida. Everything else was all cash.

This seemed absurd until I saw what she did to earn money.

I knew I had to get her out of that position, away from that sorry excuse of a person Cray. But nothing has been simple since we ran into each other at the benefit.

Everything I have done since that point has been for this damned girl. This awkward and outspoken little thing I feel charged with protecting.

And I failed, but she refused to press charges so when I retaliated the only way I knew how… she yelled.

Oh did she yell! Her! Eight years my junior, telling me how to run MY company? No one yells at Peter Mellark, except, apparently, for Katniss Everdeen… So I listened to her.

She bends over to pick up her bag, each limb moving as a unit, perfect and graceful. "Are you watching me?" she teases while dressing. This girl had little to no fashion sense, it was almost a gift that her apartment burned to the ground along with her, as she said, limited wardrobe of dark t-shirts and jeans. Not only that, but she was out of that terrible neighborhood.

She was so strange, so out of place in my house… Those stormy grey eyes studying everything just as they had at the Masquerade, just as they had in my office. Each step she took deeper into my world, those more those stormy eyes darted, taking everything in. Each step she took further into my world, though, the more she drew me out of it.

"Of course… You have lovely legs. Maybe some weekend you could stay over, I'll dismiss the housekeeper and Abernathy for the weekend and you could just walk around my place naked."

She scowls. It's so natural for her, it seems. I have to wonder if she even knows she's doing it. "Perhaps, but only if you join me."

Katniss Everdeen was about the most absurd and unpredictable creatures I have ever met, and I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

00

Katniss

"So how fast were we going last night?" I ask, trying to drum up conversation.

Peeta and I got a late start and now had the house to ourselves, though apparently we were expecting his mother. I'm meeting the boyfriend's parents after not even a week of dating. With Cato, I've never even met his family. Though, to be fair, he's never met mine.

Ugh, mom… I should call her; at least pretend we're a functional family…

I stab at another berry. Peeta, or the housekeeper…definitely the housekeeper, had a pound waiting on the counter when we woke up and I was already almost finished with it. "Do you really want to know?"

I pop the berry in my mouth and slide the fork out, the prongs sliding between my teeth loudly. "Mister Mellark," I coo after swallowing. "I am a very busy woman," I tell him in an exaggerated voice. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know…"

My near exact quotation of what Peeta had said to me on our lunch 'date' only earned a cocked eyebrow as the security system dinged, letting us know someone had entered the house. "About one twenty… I could have gotten her to about one sixty, Ducati's are…"

"Peter Mellark, you did not!" I look up from my bowl of berry stems. A tall, slender blond with a gaunt face that was most likely altered by at least Botox or maybe some fillers had walked in.

"I thought that was Prim…" Peeta's gone from being loose and relaxed to stiff just like he had in his office.

Stiff and uncomfortable… Hmm…

"Katniss, this is my mother…"

The woman pushes Peeta closer to the table to shake my hand. "Abigail Mellark, my daughter has told me so much about you… My son on the other hand…"

"It's quite alright, it's a pleasure," I smiled.

"Are you two coming to the garden party tonight? Everyone's coming," she sits next to me and delicately bites into a berry.

Peeta looks at me for an answer before sighing, "We'll be there, seven?"

The security system pings again. A voice followed. "No, I'm telling you, biggest cans I've ever seen; she had a body that was fiiiine."

"Do all the ladies fancy your brother?" I ask Peeta.

"Nah. He's just, well… Andrew," he sighed.

"Ah, there are your siblings! We're in the kitchen!" Peeta's mother calls.

"I swear, your bullshit is going to cost me an election someday," his brother says, while walking into the kitchen.

I sip at my coffee, "When he turns up missing we'll know who to ask first." I set the mug down immediately, regretting opening my mouth. I clear my throat, "I'm Katniss by the way."

One awkward brunch later and I was ready to get on the beach, or attempt to. I had a lot of studying to do, or at least I told myself that.

Somehow, I was coerced into donning a black bikini and pulled from the now quiet house into the noise of the Mellark family.

Abigail had left about an hour ago to prepare for whatever a garden party was, which was a relief. I was so afraid of her bad side.

Walking down the wooden stairs to the beach, all I could see was dark blue water and a very long but well-kept dock where a very large boat and a few jet-skis sit tied off.

"How deep is the water at the end?" I ask, digging my bare feet into the white sand.

"Twenty or so feet… why?" Peeta says. I grin and pull off my tank top running down to the dock.

So much for studying.

When I get to the end I launch off, diving into the deep blue water. I love swimming, swimming was freedom.

I don't know how deep I let myself sink before I rose to the surface, "How was that?" The water is still cool, my skin turning to gooseflesh the second I hit the water.

"A little cold…" I take in a deep breath and let my air filled lungs tip me on my back. "Can I take a jet ski out?"

"Do you know how to drive one?" Peeta sits on the edge of the dock, his feet barely hitting the water.

"Is it anything like a snowmobile? We used those to cross to the islands up where I'm from in the winter," I swim over to the edge of the dock. "Can you swim?" He just nods before I take his arm and pull him in with me.

The water overtakes me as I let myself sink. Down, down, down until my lungs burn and I float up.

"Oh you're in so much trouble Miss Everdeen," he lunges for me but I dive under again, swimming back to the shore. I've always been more comfortable swimming under the water, deep down right above the sandy bottom until the waves lap at my back, pushing sand in my bathing suit. I surface, running from the firm wet sand and somehow tripping on my own feet.

"Gotcha!" I'm flipped onto my back and Peeta crawls up me, even though his siblings and Rue's watchful eyes are on us. He kisses me deeply, his hands on either side of me so his weight isn't on me. We never do get on the jet-ski's.

I was told while getting ready that a Garden Party was casual but still very stuffy. Very not me.

"Is this appropriate?" I ask, emerging from the bathroom in a very plain white dress with a crochet pattern at the bottom. I strapped a thick brown leather belt around my waist and spun around slowly.

"Perfect," Peeta says. I smile and drink him in. We were a matching set. Me in my white crochet dress, him in a white button up with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. For the first time since meeting Peeta Mellark, his shirt wasn't tucked in.

"You're not half bad yourself," I tell him while slipping the gold bracelet on my wrist and putting my choker in place.

I imagined when Mrs. Mellark said everyone was coming I would be rubbing elbows with the Hampton's finest. For once in my life, my assumption was right.

Seated in her beautiful fairy garden at tables covered in perfect white linen were millionaires, politicians, even an actor or two.

"Is your dad here?" I ask, clinging to my boyfriend's hand as he helped navigate me through the sea of rich strangers.

Peeta chuckles, "No, my dad doesn't come to mother's parties. He's up at the house though…"

I nod, "So he's like the Great Gatsby? Lavish parties at his house and he just sits up at home enjoying some scotch?"

"Actually yes, Miss Everdeen."

People kiss my cheeks left and right, telling me they loved my gown the night before. Every person who asked who designed it was shocked that I would wear such an unknown designer, but promised to check his work out after seeing what he put me in.

I'm the face of his business… I remind myself throughout the night.

Peeta's distracted by some business partner when I walk off to explore the garden more. I'm surrounded by bushes and trees lit by white Christmas lights which only make Mrs. Mellark's colorful garden shine. I give into one of my many weaknesses - the sweet, grounding bite of a cigarette.

I face away, studying the statue before me…a beautiful angel, her arms open, palms facing out.

"So…" my blood runs cold when I hear his voice. A hand snakes around my waist, another covers my mouth, "You won't make a scene will you?"

I shake my head no and when Cato shoves me from him, I stumble on my heels, catching myself on the tall statue. "Why are you here?" I ask.

When we were dating, I wasn't allowed to look him in the eye. Today, I chose to let his dark brown eyes meet my grey ones. It was a sign of defiance before, but now a sign of my freedom. "Uncle has a house here; everyone who is anyone is here, Katniss."

I snort and cross my arms over my chest, still refusing to break eye contact with him. "You didn't answer my question."

"Defiant little bitch… I should put you in your place right here, but I don't want to make a scene…" he picks a bud, a tight pink peony which he tucks in my loose hair. "It would be a shame…"

I cringe away from his touch, unable to move, "What would be?"

"If something was to happen to your little beau, or maybe even his little sister. She's so innocent really…" he pats my cheek twice before walking away. I can't move for a good minute or so before a bit of hot ash falls on my hand.

"There you are!" Peeta… Oh shit! I try to compose myself, what would Cato do to him? To Prim?

I force a smile. Could he see through me?

"Sorry, I was admiring your mother's garden," I take a drag. "And polluting it…"

He rolls his eyes and kisses me on the forehead. Cato couldn't hurt him? Could he? No… I refuse to believe it!

"You bolted from the party the first chance you could," he chuckles. "I like the flower…"

My hand shoots up to my hair and I rip the tainted bud from my hair and throw it to the ground stomping both it and my cigarette.

"Woah… You ok?" he asks.

"I'm fine Peeta, it's nothing… Just, can we go? This isn't really my scene…"

Do I tell him about Cato's threat?

"Then let's go find your scene, Belle," he takes my hand and instead of leading me back to the party we head straight across the way to his home.

00

I don't know how it happened. It would be a victory if I had coerced Peeta into a place like this but here we were, inside of a dive bar still dressed in Garden Party Chic which was making it really difficult to play pool.

"Should I break?"

Peeta doesn't respond at first, he kept racking the balls as I, not so like a lady, chugged a Budweiser. I had a few glasses of champagne earlier so it was taking a while for the buzz to hit me; instead I just enjoyed the questionable music.

"Peeta?" I chalk my cue. "What will you do for me when I win? I'm thinking I'll bring out the handcuffs…" This gets his attention, just as I blow excess chalk from my cue as I begin humming Made in America by Toby Keith.

"And if I win, I'm going to tie you down to the bed until you beg for me to let you cum," he removes the rack and coolly walks around to the side of the table I'm at. "Besides, you don't have handcuffs," he bends over and effortlessly breaks, sinking a solid. His second shot, though, is not so lucky. "Your shot Belle."

I'm still gawking at him, but make quick work of not one but two stripes.

"I'm not going to go easy on you…" I take another sip and wait for him to go. The bar is definitely the local drinking hole and in our pretty white clothing, we stand out like a sore thumb. Nervously, I tug my skirt down a little and pull up the top of my dress, accomplishing nothing but keeping my hands busy.

I watch him sink another solid and move the eight ball to block a pocket where three easy shots of mine could be sunk. "You're an evil man Peter Mellark…" When I walk to take my shot, I run my fingers along his chest as I sit up on the table to shoot behind my back. I cross my legs to protect my underwear from view and arch my back. I bite my lip and try to line up my shot, tapping the cue ball, sinking the nine.

"And you're putting on a show…" he grumbles as I hop off the table backing up a little to bend over, my backside rubbing against his groin. Public displays of affection weren't my forte, but toying with Peeta was quickly becoming my specialty. "Katniss…" he scolds.

"Oh shut up Peeta, you're distracting me…" I bring my cue back and unfortunately miss.

We play like this - not so innocent brushes of the hand, hooded gazes and even stolen kisses until we're both down to the eight ball.

"This is so mine…" I tease, lining up my shot. It's easy. "Eight ball, corner pocket."

I bring back the cue and tap the ball. "Too hard…" I stick out my tongue and watch the eight ball sink into the pocket, followed by the cue. I had just lost on a technicality.

"Oh fuck me…" I grumble as Peeta wanders off. After I put our cues back, he hands me his coat.

"Tabs settled, let's go."

My jaw drops. He was serious! Somehow, I prologue my tying up and convince him to not wake up poor Abernathy and walk the half mile back to his house. Our fingers lace together as we walk, his eyes fixated on our target, mine on the twinkling of lightning bugs up in the leaves of the trees.

"It looks like stars…" I look up at my boyfriend and pull him into what looks like a small path cutting into the tree line. The sound of waves crashing echoes through the small patch of forest. For a town full of yuppies and fishermen, this spot is gorgeous under the light of a full moon.

We never do make it to the tying up part of Peeta's winnings. I shrug off the jacket and lay it down in a clearing surrounded by the twinkling fireflies as confident fingers slide down the zipper of my dress and I let the leather belt fall. When the white fabric is at my feet, the next thing to go is my bra.

"You have too many clothes on," I tease as I pop the buttons of his shirt torturously slow while he hurries to get his pants down.

It's beautiful, very hurried and completely without foreplay but as our sweaty bodies collide under the full moon and tiny green stars of fireflies searching for their own mate, I feel compelled to cry at the perfection of this moment. I hold in my tears though, not willing to ruin it.

We're chest to chest, tongues intertwining and wrestling for dominance. My nails scrape down his back. He supports his weight on his elbows, his free hands stroking my cheek as I feel my climax build. It's rapid, like a coil springing free. We've remained quiet until that point, our mouths muffling the moans. But soon my head jerks back and freely, for all of the Hamptons to hear I moan his name just as I fall apart at the seams.