"That's not how you do it, Katniss..."

"Shut up, Peeta, life is about trying new things."

"But... okay, whatever..." I stubbornly continued in my terrible try at contouring, and Peeta sat on my bed watching me. "You realize you have a makeup artist right here?" He pressed.

"Peeta..."

"Okay, nevermind." He held his hands up in surrender. "This is just really painful to watch."

"Uh huh, I'd like to see you contour your own face." I challenged him. Doing someone else's makeup is way easier than your own. All he does is smear silver on his eyes.

"I've actually done that before." I tossed him the cream bronzer I was using.

"Then go ahead, show me."

"You know, contouring is different for guys than for girls."

"I don't care, I just want you to see how much harder it is to do your own makeup."

"It's a lot easier, Katniss, really. You just won't let me show you how." He chuckled, picking up a mirror to start. "This is way too dark for me." He snorted, looking around for something lighter.

I sat cross-legged on my bed facing him, somewhat mesmerized by his skilled hands using cream and powder products to create shadows.

"It's really not that hard..." He interrupted the silence.

"Not when you're a fancy makeup artist." I grumbled, flopping backwards in defeat. He seemed satisfied with the results, handing me back my mirror.

"I may not be able to spin on ice skates, but I can contour." He grabbed a wipe from my dresser, gesturing for me to lean close so he could fix my messy smudges. He gently cupped my face in one hand while he removed any traces of makeup. With his face so close, I couldn't really look anywhere but his eyes, big and blue and trained on mine. His hand stilled mid-swipe beneath my eyes. I blinked, and he shook his head a little, focusing again on what he was doing. I couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"You have great skin." He remarked softly. I snorted, he was obviously trying to diffuse the situation.

"Honey masks are my best friend."

"Thanks for the tip." He smiled. I feel like his fingers are taking more time than necessary brushing over my cheeks. When his thumb resting on my lower lip to balance his hand, he pulled it away like he hand been burned. I noticed his blush creeping up his neck and how his eyes focused on my forehead instead of my eyes.

"Sorry." He mumbled so quietly, I'm not positive he said it. In the next five minutes, his gaze dropped more and more frequently down to my lips, lingering there before he would catch himself.

"Just kiss me, Peeta." I whispered before I lost my nerve. His eyes widened for a second, examining mine to see if I was serious. I leaned closer, and his hand wrapped around the back of my neck. Our eyes closed and our lips met.

After too little time, he drew back again, watching me closely. I smiled, not knowing what to say, reaching up to brush my fingers through his hair. I've wanted to do that for so long, especially when he wears it down. It just brushes his shoulders, and it's so wonderfully curly and soft. He smiles back at me as I play with one curl, only meeting my eyes for a second longer before he looked down. His cheeks were tinged with pink. I never really thought about how

cute Peeta is. I rested my hand in his hair, bringing up the other to touch the skin beneath his eyes.

"You have freckles." I said softly. He laughed.

"Yeah."

"That's really cute." His eyebrows went up, his lips twitching up into a smile.

"Really? Freckles?"

I nod, scooting closer to him so I could wrap my arms around his waist and lean against his chest. His heart beat steadily against my ear, although a little fast. We stayed that way for several minutes, and gradually the thumps from his chest slowed to a normal pace.

I didn't know what to do now, I don't know what to say or anything, so I left the words up to him.