Katniss finished her run, like every Saturday, in front of Mellark's bakery. It was the first weekend of her summer break, and she was full of optimism. She was going to make the most of the weeks she had ahead of her, starting with a treat right now: a cappuccino and some cheese buns, her very favorite pastry, or should she say, her favorite food ever?

The year had been tough; she had to juggle her studies attending community college in her town and her job as a waitress at Sae's every evening. She couldn't go to Panem U, as it was pretty expensive, and she was saving for Prim. Prim was the talented one, the one with a true calling; she was going to be a doctor and save lives, and Katniss would help her sister, even if that meant she had to stay in her hometown. But this summer she would only have her evening shifts, and she was going to enjoy the woods and her dad's lake during the mornings.

She entered the bakery with those thoughts in her head while reaching for her bottle of water to hydrate a bit after ten miles under the summer sun.

She heard his voice before her eyes landed on him‒the voice of Peeta Mellark

"Hi, Katniss."

She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him while grasping her bottle and raising it to her lips to take a second sip from her bottle a second sip, (which ended up being her worst idea ever). A million thoughts popped up in her head. Peeta had always been a handsome boy: all fair skin, broad shoulders, blond, wavy hair, and pretty blue eyes, but what she found in front of her, talking with Peeta's voice and smiling with Peeta's lips, was a different Peeta. A Peeta her mind and body couldn't reconcile with the image of the kind and gentle boy she'd known her whole life.

This new Peeta was hardly a boy anymore; his features had sharpened, something particularly noticeable in his now chiseled jaw. He was broader and taller, but what left Katniss breathless was his hair. His usually short, blond hair (although not short enough to miss his soft curls falling over his forehead), was now long, reaching his shoulders in a cascade of golden waves, framing his face and illuminating his eyes. And the result was outstanding.

He was gorgeous, she thought, Greek-God type of gorgeous.

Upon sight of the vision of her high school crush, Katniss nearly choked and was forced to spit up the water in her mouth. It dribbled down her chin as she immediately started coughing.

"Hey, hey, are you ok?" a concerned Peeta Mellark said, running to her to pat her back.

Her skin erupted in goosebumps at his touch, a heat radiating from the point their skin touched and traveling throughout her body, rising up to the blush in her cheeks. "Get it together, Everdeen," she thought, realizing it was the first time they had touched in all the years they had known each other. They'd been in the same year of school from age five to eighteen, sharing some classes, and never, not one single time, had their skin been pressed together, because if that were the case, she would remember.

Peeta and she weren't in the same school circles; he was with the popular kids from the Merchant quarters, and she was with the less fortunate, coming from a tough quarter to live like The Seam.

When she stopped coughing, she ventured a look at him, and they locked gazes, as they had so many times across the classroom or schoolyard; only this time, her eyes didn't flit away. She kept looking at him, at his impossibly blue eyes, his face so very near she could rest her forehead against his. She breathed hard at the thought.

"Come with me; you need to sit down," he said, lacing his free hand, the one not touching her back, with hers and leading her to one of the couches in the bakery. "Do you want something to drink? I'll bring you some coffee or tea."

"No, thanks, I'm fine," she croaked. She wasn't ready to let go of his warmth yet.

"Katniss, you don't look fine," he replied, gently rubbing her back and looking at her with pleading eyes. "Oh, I know! What about some cheese buns?"

She bit her lip and nodded, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

"You stay here; I'll bring them to you," he commanded while heading to the bakery counter to grab some cheese buns. He put them on a plate. "I'll warm them for you. They taste better."

She missed him instantly and decided to move up to stand on the other side of the counter. "Thanks, Peeta."

"It's no problem, at all. It's the least I can do. Would you like some cappuccino, also?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Please." Her tone denoted the surprise of his selection. How did he know cheese buns and cappuccino were her favorites? Most likely, he didn't, and it was just a stroke of luck, but she couldn't avoid a nervous cough escaping her throat.

"Here. Here, you have the coffee. We don't want you to die today," he joked with a smile.

The gesture put her at ease immediately and drew a smile from her, "I won't die, Peeta."

"Good," he said, lowering his tone and leaning towards her over the counter, "we wouldn't want bad publicity. Just imagine the headlines: 'Prettiest girl in Panem dies in a bakery.' It would be awful for the business."

Her eyes widened in shock. Was he flirting with her?

She wanted to say something back; too bad she started coughing again, only this time it was coffee she spilled.