I guess the writing for you daily fell through, I'm so sorry!
If anyone is interested, the art paper was set, the topic was 'Forces', there were many Star Wars jokes and I finished my exam in under 10 hours :)
I know it's been a while but here is chapter 12, sorry it's been so long and the chapter is rather short, but I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)
Pushing open the door to the back of the bakery, I can feel the now familiar warmth of the ovens hitting my skin and causing brief goosebumps to flick up over my skin before falling again. There was a chill in the air this morning, a few people on the train were wearing scarfs once more. It is oddly cold for the middle of May, however, at least it had stopped raining in the mornings now.
The smell of freshly baked loaves mixed with a doughy scent and a hint of cinnamon, hits me as I begin to walk down the corridor I entered, past the toilets and supply cupboards. The savory smells filling my nostrils with the delightful smells of the day, causing my mouth to salivate.
"Good morning, Katniss."
Peeta's head pops through the ajar door from the kitchen and he smiles at me sheepishly, flour lining the left side of his jaw and his hair it's usual bouncy, blond state.
I feel a smile spread across my face, the checklist to the start of my weekdays is completed; the rumbling train journey and guessing at peoples lives as the green passes by through the scratched windows, the warm ovens the greet me in the mornings like a warm hug, the intoxicating smell of warm dough which makes me giddy at the aroma, and finally a good morning from Peeta which makes my stomach twist and flutter.
Ever since my first week of work, Peeta would smile at me from the door and say good morning before proceeding into the shop, a crate of freshly baked bread in his arms, ready to fill the display cases. At first, I would simply nod and watch him as if he was prey and I was a tiger prowling. Looking out for a hidden motive, questioning how someone could appear so cheerful this early every single morning, or why he bothered or knew it was me entering the kitchen every morning and said hello. As the days and weeks wore on, I slowly began to reply with a hello. Then a smile that followed, and now, I look forward to his good mornings. It's almost a ritual now.
I smile wider.
"Hello, Peeta."
His cheeks sporting a soft pinky blush, he disappears back through the door, when he is gone I look down to my moving feet and smile to myself. Clearing my throat before I push the ajar door wider and enter the kitchen, I try to force the odd fluttering butterflies from my stomach. From the day the butterflies began to become a part of my morning, I have wondered why. In fact, the wings slightly scare me.
Shaking my head pf the thoughts, I open the door and step into the mildly painted kitchen. The radio is playing softly in the corner, and Rye is standing at the sink, washing up dirty bread cases. Looking up at me, he smiles and nods before averting his gaze back to the sink and continues to wash up.
Taking my back pack off, I shrug off my worn grey cardigan to reveal my light blue 'Mellarks' polo shirt and slip it into the bag. Closing the zip, I pick it up and hang it over it's usual chair.
Normally, I would also be greeted in the mornings by Mr Mellark, Peeta and Rye's father. However, he doesn't work on wednesday's, instead leaving the responsibility of running the bakery up to both of his sons.
I had meet him after a day or two of working at the bakery. Like both Peeta and Rye, he had blond hair. The same roman nose, similar ears and mouth, face shape and broad shoulders. In fact, his sons where almost spitting images of him, apart from the fact being older he sported some wisps of white hairs in amongst the sandy blond ones. Peeta's eyes are a different shade of blue too, more like sapphires.
He seems like a nice man, much like his sons.
Peeta's mother, on the other hand, seems less friendly. I had also met her within the first few days of me working at the bakery, instead of a hand shake and introduction, I was faced with an obvious disapproving scowl. Not only does her demeanor seem different, but her appearance. The woman also has blond hair which every time I have seen her has been pulled back into a tight bun at the back of her head, however it is a much darker shade to her sons and husband, bordering being light brown. Her eyes are also blue as well, however her other features do not match her children's. Her face is more of a diamond shape, and she has a frame lean. Nose more pointed and face in a constant scowl. She appears to be a rather pretty looking woman, however every time I see her, the thought does occur to me that she would look a lot prettier if she smiled more.
The first day I had met her I had been packing loaves just after lunch, standing quietly at the counter, not really paying attention to my surroundings. Instead, gazing out of the window at the bleeding hearts inside the hanging baskets outside of the restaurant opposite. That's when I heard a bell chiming from the front of the store, before a small commotion. Looking to Peeta, who was also in the kitchen at the time, we made eye contact for a split second before he sighed heavily and mouthed 'Sorry'. Pulling a face, I turned back to packing, not really understanding what the apology was for.
Of course, I found out a few minutes later when Mr and Mrs Mellark had entered the kitchen. Mr Mellark had greeted me with a warm smile and firm handshake once I had been introduced to the couple.
"Mum, dad, this is Katniss Everdeen, our new employee."
Peeta had smiled back at me, and I had seen Mr Mellark staring at me for a few minutes before smiling as well. Extending a large hand, he shook my relatively small one.
"Everdeen? I remember your mother.' A sad smile spread across his lips. 'My name is Malcom, it's nice to have you working here."
I offered a small smile back, slightly surprised Mr Mellark had known my mother. Then I had turned to Mrs Mellark. She didn't offer a smile like Mr Mellark had, instead, she seemed to be wearing a scowl. Sticking up her nose slightly, she turns to Peeta before speaking in a rather dead pan tone.
"This is Delly's replacement? I hope she works as well as Delly."
Turning on her heels, she stalks out of the kitchen and out of the side door I had gone down to change into my 'Mellarks' polo shirt. Biting the inside of my life to stop myself from speaking my mind about this woman, I simply turn to stare at Peeta for a moment, before continuing my job of packing loaves.
Shaking the horrid first encounter with Mrs Mellark from my mind, I pick up a dish cloth from the table and walk towards the draining board Rye is piling high with freshly washed bowls, pans and tins.
I have been working here for around a month and a half now, and to my surprise, I am becoming oddly comfortable with this routine I have adopted and the people in it. Walking in, helping Rye with the drying up and then working on the shop floor until after lunch. I am even more surprised I have appeared to have made friends with the people here. Including a rather lovely young woman with flowing brown hair and sea green eyes, Annie Cresta. Although rather 'away with the fairies', she appears to be very sweet, often we have interesting conversations.
She used to live in Brighton, by the sea, before moving into the city, much like Finnick had.
Sighing slightly, I smile to myself. Finnick. It's my monthly bar night with Darius and the group in The Mockingjay tonight, the date had almost slipped my mind.
I'm looking forward to seeing them, it's been too long.
So next time we get to see Darius again, yay!
Until next time (and I hope it wont be a long a wait as it has been, again) have a nice week people! It's finally warm! (In England) :3
