Chapter 6

"You okay?" Haymitch asked through the closed door.

"Yes!" she shouted back in horror.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, no, everything's fine!"

Haymitch raised an eyebrow but finally shrugged. If the girl didn't need any help, he wouldn't push. "I'm gonna take a shower, if you have questions..."

"No!"

"Okay," Haymitch answered, sounding a bit huffy, and shuffled away. As soon as Katniss heard the bathroom door slam and the hot water turn on she breathed out in relief.

Only four days ago, she had enthusiastically taken up the new job, nothing in her mind but washing dishes and cleaning windows. No one had told her that doing laundry was part of it.

Groaning, she was sitting in a mountain of dirty clothes, surrounded by socks, shirts and – to her deepest horror – a collection of worn-out boxer shorts. If she had ever imagined the job would involve stuffing Haymitch's filthy underwear into the washing machine, she would have refused it without blinking an eyelid.

Groaning again, she decided to start with the shirts, putting them into the washing machine, filling up the powder compartment and looking for the right washing cycle, when she heard a knock at the front door.

Irritated, Katniss looked up, pushing a lock of hair out of her face as she listened intently. The knocking became louder and the girl got up and went down the oak staircase, wiping her dirty hands on her old, washed-out blue jeans, before opening the heavy door.

She looked straight into the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.

"Uncle Haym..." The young man stopped mid-sentence, blinked twice, recovered himself and smiled at her. "Excuse me, Miss, I'm Peeta Mellark, isn't my uncle at home?"

Katniss struggled with herself, trying her best to stop staring into those mesmerizing eyes, before finding her voice again.

"Uh, yes, upstairs, taking a shower..." she stammered, aware of how incredibly stupid she must sound.

Peeta laughed and she realized that his smile warmed his eyes even more.

"He's taking a shower because of me?" Peeta smiled brightly. "There are still signs and wonders in the world."

"Ah."

"May I come in?" the young man asked politely, shifting his heavy travel bag from one shoulder to the other. "I'm Haymitch's nephew."

"Oh."

"Peeta?" Haymitch asked, stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the stairs. As soon as he caught a glimpse of blond hair, the older man ran down the stairs, barefoot, wearing only an ugly, thin bathrobe, and clasped the boy in his arms.

"Welcome home!" he said happily against Peeta's hair, hugging him tightly until the boy gasped for breath, while Katniss took a step back. Completely taken aback by surprise she noticed the similarities between the two of them: the same light hair, the same broad shoulders, the same angular jaws...

"May I present," Haymitch interrupted the girl's thoughts and pointed his large fingers in her direction, giving the young woman the unpleasant feeling that she was the best brood mare in town, "Katniss!"

A lump in her throat, she rubbed her moist palms together and looked everywhere apart from into the face of the young man standing before her.

"Nice to meet you." Peeta nodded politely and extended his well-groomed hand to her. Shyly, she took his hand in hers, feeling her cheeks getting hot.

Totally satisfied with himself, Haymitch grinned from ear to ear, already able to picture his former 'sweetheart' breathing fire and brimstone when she learned how completely she'd lost the battle.
He was sure that Katniss would use her lovely dark eyes to see that Peeta was by far the better choice than Hawthorne.

"Come on in." Resolutely, he shoved the young people into the living room and gestured for both to sit down before rubbing his hands together like a good host. "So, what are you drinking? Whiskey, bourbon, brandy...?"

Peeta's eyebrows shot up, almost touching his hairline. Haymitch swallowed hard, suppressing the old habit of rubbing his forehead. What did young people usually drink at half past ten in the morning? He couldn't remember, maybe a Coke?

Finally Katniss stood up, trying her best to edge past Haymitch and escape into the kitchen. "I'll make you both a strong coffee."

"Oh no!" Reaching for her bare, slender upper arm, he pushed her back onto the leather couch, right beside Peeta. "You stay here and entertain our guest. I'll make the coffee."

With these words he disappeared into the kitchen and Katniss looked down at the clean floor, embarrassed. She heard the sound of a bottle being uncorked, and could easily picture Haymitch taking a long sip from it. What the hell is going on? She thought.

"Did you clean the place up?" Peeta asked, glancing appreciatively around the living room. "It never looked this good before."

"Thanks," the girl said hesitantly, finally looking up and letting her dark eyes wander through the large room.

On her first day at work, she'd started by collecting all the empty bottles and throwing them away. Afterwards, she had dusted the furniture and had sorted the numerous books lying all over the house back into the bookshelves.

Later she'd vacuumed the whole house, before wiping the filthy floors for hours. She couldn't remember how many times she had replaced the dirty cleaning water again and again, always with the strange feeling that Haymitch was watching her, while he was sitting on the wooden porch with a newspaper in his hand.

Finally, she had rejected the foolish idea; why on earth would he watch her? Later, when Katniss arrived home totally exhausted but with two hundred dollar notes in her hand, her mother had cried for joy while her little sister darted to and fro in the garden, picking a bouquet of wild flowers for their unknown benefactor.

The next day, the bouquet in her arms, Katniss appeared on Haymitch's doorstep and shoved the flowers into his hands. Totally irritated, he had asked her just what he was supposed to do with the weeds. The young woman had simply rolled her eyes before pushing past him to search for a vase in the depths of his kitchen cabinets.

When no vase materialized, she'd put the beautiful flowers into an old pitcher and placed it on the kitchen table. Neither Haymitch nor Katniss would ever admit that the colorful bouquet looked lovely.

"Coffee is served," Haymitch said proudly as he walked in, distracting the girl from her thoughts.

Putting down two cups of hot coffee, spoons and a packet of sugar cubes on the coffee table, he looked from one to the other, smirking. "Isn't she just like I told you?"

"Tall?" Peeta asked, his eyes on the young woman next to him.

Katniss's black brows drew together like dark storm clouds.

"What does that mean?"