You guys know the drill, I don't know any the Hunger Games! Enjoy!

He was an artist.

Add that to the ever-expanding list of things I knew about Peeta Mellark. It was weird, being around him. I found myself cataloguing every detail I could while I was in his presence. Like the way he always smelled like warm hazelnut cappuccino and the way his blue eyes sparkled if the light caught them just right. Or the way he had one dimple that formed when he smiled extra hard and more often than not smirked with only one side of his mouth upturned. And I just couldn't seem to overlook the fact that although his solid 6 foot frame stood a good 4 inches above me, I never felt like he was looming or overbearing. He was just there, and that was all I could ask for from him.

Not that I could say he was taking notice the same way I was. After all, we'd only known each other for a few days (and half of that time was spent in a business capacity). No, Peeta was treating me the way I'd realized he treated everyone- with genuine interest and mutual respect.

After the Gale debacle, I couldn't very well continue my evening like nothing had happened. I made a generous donation to the charity by purchasing piece of work, wrote down my contact information for delivery and prepared to leave. It was only on my way outside that I heard Peeta rushing to catch up with me. "Katniss, wait! You never answered my question before." I stopped abruptly and turned to face him.

A kindhearted attendant had pointed me in the direction of the service exit so I didn't have to face the media circus that was sure to await out front. Thresh was bringing the car around to the back, so I knew that I had made a clean getaway- until then. "What question?"

His shy smile appeared again, flashing that singular dimple I had gotten to know so well. "Inside, when I asked you if you liked my work, you didn't say anything. You kind of just walked away, actually." He ran his hand through his blonde locks, still in need of that trim I had pointed out at The Hob.

"What does it matter what I think?" I glanced down at my watch, wondering when Thresh was going to get there. Peeta made me nervous. Not in the 'I'm speaking in front of a room full of investors' nervous, either. More like the 'I'm a 15 year old girl meeting Justin Timberlake for the first time' nervous. And I had to say, I preferred my choices with the investors. "You're showing at the biggest gallery on 5th Avenue. My opinion is of no consequence to you."

"You have an honest streak about you, which is hard to come by in this business. And you know your stuff. You project market climates and trend analysis better than anyone in the market." I suddenly looked at him incredulously. What did he know about my market analysis?

He must have sensed my apprehension, before rephrasing his previous statement. "I've been researching you... For the article?" Of course. The article. Everyone had a reason to be interested in me, and none of them included actually being interested in me. And as much as I'd hoped Peeta was different, he was like everyone else.

Finally, the lights of the town car appeared in the distance, slipping down the small side street. "Listen, Peeta, I'm no conesuier of portraiture or anything, but I think you're good. Really good. Your painting inside, it made me happy in this inexplicable way. The colors, they um, they were rich and fantastical but reeked of reality." I shook my head at my own words in disbelief. What was I even saying at this point? "But like I said, it doesn't matter. It's not like I bought it or anything." I mumbled the last part as Thresh pulled up in front of me. He got out of the driver's side to escort me to the passenger seat and open the door.

"Katniss wait, its still pretty early. Do you want to hang out for a while or something?" Nobody had asked me to 'hang out' since I was in college, and I had to admit, the invitation was tempting. I had gotten all dolled up just to go to an event for 20 minutes, and all but get kicked out because of my date. I had to remind myself that Peeta's good nature was only stretching so far, though. And where that gave out, his journalistic nature was going to prevail.

At the end of the day, I was just another cover story.

"I better go." I ducked my head into the car as Thresh began to shut the door behind me, but Peeta held it open.

"Wait! What I said before, about the article, it wasn't exactly true." He shook his hair into his face and quickly swept it to the side. That hair. I could run my fingers through it for hours. Wait, what? "I knew about your eye for the beauty from your days at Julliard." My head snapped back to his face and I noticed Thresh take a step in Peeta's direction. Nobody ever brought that up.

Before Thresh could physically remove him from the premises, he stumbled through the rest of his explanation, eyes darting between Thresh and myself.

"We uh, we went to school together."

Going to Julliard had been my lifelong dream.

Being born and raised in New York state, you grew up understanding the prestige of the institution. And as I grew, the more alluring the pull of the stage became.

I had loved singing since the day I was born. My dad once told me that even my cries in the delivery room were melodic. But I didn't come from a musical family, or one that especially encouraged careers outside of concrete money-making, so I'd always considered professional musicianship to be a pipe dream. And it was my dad who finally pushed me to submit my audition tape.

By some miracle, I got in, and began my undergraduate studies in Vocal/Operatic Performance at the most prestigious music institute in the world. It was a dream come true, studying amongst some of the most talented people from across the globe. Finally, my lifelong refuge in music was fulfilled- and I was eating it up.

For the first time in my life I felt happy; legitimately, unadulteratedly happy, and was having a ball. I made some great friends, studied from the best in the industry and landed the opportunity of a lifetime as a member of the La Traviata West End cast after graduation. I was able to perform with them for just over a year when I received the call from my dad. He had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and only had a few months left. My music career was cut short, but was nothing in comparison to losing my father. I spent the rest of his days by his side, and eventually, assumed the position as acting CEO of Everdeen Athletics.

"What do you mean, we went to school together?" I stepped out of the car, placing me dangerously close to Peeta's face. If he was just pulling my leg to get me to deliver some type of secret about my short-lived life as a performer, I wanted him to say it to my face. I had never ever granted an interview about those times and if he wanted to get it out of me, he was going to have to be honest. "Did you just read that somewhere? Read about the poor little rich girl who gave up her dreams?" I pushed my index finger against his chest. "Well if you want to know more than that, you're going to have to come up with a slightly better story than 'you went to Julliard'."

"You played Donna Anna in Don Giovanni and you got sick five minutes before your first solo. It took your dad rushing backstage to get you to go on with the show." He effectively interrupted my rant. Nobody knew about that moment, expect for my father. "And when you stepped onstage and opened your mouth for the first time, nobody could believe it. Believe that Katniss Everdeen the girl with the sweet smile and shy demeanor had it in her to deliver a performance of that caliber. You lit up the whole stage. You were a girl on fire."

I slumped back against the car and Thresh crossed his arms over his chest, patiently. I could see Peeta's eyes visibly soften as I rubbed my temple. "How did you know about that?"

"I was working tech for that show.. I did it sometimes, because the money helped me pay for tuition." His hand was on my face, pushing a stray strand behind my ear. "I would never make this stuff up, Katniss." I turned to Thresh and gave him a quick goodbye nod. He took that as his cue to get back in the car. I would text him and let him know where I was going later. Right then, though, something was pulling me towards Peeta. I wanted to know what else he knew about me.

And I wanted to know him.

We walked a few blocks, a safe distance between the two of us. He had shaken me up with his recent admission, and while I'd never been great with words, I definitely didn't know what to say to him now. My natural inclination was to turn back, run away, because this unsure feeling was crippling. Even in business, when I wasn't fully confident in my abilities, I knew how to put on a strong face and look like I had it all together. But tonight, something about my façade had been shaken, and I wasn't sure what I could do to get it back.

"Katniss listen, about the other night, I feel like I should explain."

"Why didn't you just tell me? At The Hob, at our meeting, you've had more than one opportunity to tell me who you were and you didn't. You just let me go on believing that we'd never met."

"Because I even though you didn't know me back then, I've always noticed you, Katniss. And running into you by chance the other night was like something just clicked. Like maybe, even after all this time, I had an opportunity to make you, I don't know, see me." I stopped walking then, the clicking of my heels ceasing the rhythmic pattern we'd inhabited.

"You can't be serious." I laughed bitterly. "I know you've watched what a mess I've been over the past couple of years. Heck, you saw what happened in that gallery tonight! My personal life is a wreck. I have no idea what I'm doing as the head of this company. Everyone closest to me is either mad as hell at me or on the other side of the country. And the only people who care about my opinion are the ones that I'm paying to care. My life is a sham. If anyone understands not being seen, it's me." I turned on my heel, ready to go anywhere but here. We had wandered somewhere near Central Park, and I immediately texted Thresh to pick me up.

I felt his warm hand envelop my own, urging me back in his direction. "I see you, Katniss." My eyes found his, glittering underneath the street light. "Or, I want to see you, at least. This woman, this image that you have now, it's not exactly the girl I remember from college, but that's life. In the past three days I've seen that same funny, beautiful and slightly cynical person that I… That I used to know." He stopped himself midsentence, wanting to say more, but holding back. "I see that."

I wanted to laugh, to cry, to punch him in the face for being so painfully pure.

He was such an idealist, believing that there was still good in me somewhere; for believing that I was capable of harboring those same personality traits that I had back then. "Everything about this is wrong." I shook my head, attempting to rid myself of all the thoughts about him that had been bouncing around since I'd first run into him. No matter what he thought about me, I was still Katniss Everdeen, CEO. Not the happy-go-lucky college girl that he remembered. "We have to work together now, Peeta. This is strictly professional. I should have just gotten in my car before."

He had closed the distance between us, his righteous and earnest eyes peering down into mine. "If you mean that," he whispered, his breath tickling my face, "then I can hail a cab and we'll go back to business as usual on Monday." My breath caught in my throat as I felt the already too short distance between us shrink even more. "But if you are willing to let someone see the Katniss that I see, then we can figure everything else out later."

"What if I'm not who you think I am?" I whispered, barely audible.

"You couldn't be."

My body acted of its own accord then, closing the space between us. His lips pressed to mine, his palms holding my face to his. I felt a fire erupt in the pit of my stomach, encouraging me to deepen the kiss. It was an amazing kiss, but my rationality was overwhelming me. I still owed my father full dedication to his company and at the end of the day, Peeta still needed a cover story. I couldn't help but repeat the mantra Gale had indoctrinated me with over the years, "You can't be so naïve, Everdeen. People are going to use you. You can't be so naïve, Everdeen. People are going to use you. You can't be so naïve, Everdeen. People are going to use you."

I broke away quickly, frantically searching for a getaway. As if on cue, Thresh pulled up beside me, immediately exiting the vehicle and opening my door. "I have to go, Peeta. I'm so sorry." I ran into the passenger side, hopping in before anything else could stop me. Even if he didn't realize it yet, I was saving him.

There was a reason I couldn't let anyone see who I really am.