The next day Katniss approached the student center right at 11:25. She had a tendency to be early no matter where she was going, and no matter what time she was supposed to arrive. She waited outside the main entrance until her phone read 11:35, then sighing, she made her way inside to see if he had possibly beat her there and was already waiting near the art display.

He wasn't outside the art gallery either and she turned away disappointed, her cheeks crimson with annoyance at herself for getting so excited about meeting him outside the coffee shop. This is exactly why she never let herself get caught up with guys. It's why she had only ever been on a handful of real dates, and really only kissed one person, which was Gale and didn't even count because it was more like kissing a cousin. She was too old to be this inexperienced, she thought, and this was exactly what happened because of her inexperience: she had no idea what she was doing when it came to men.

With these thoughts on a running loop, and her head down, she almost missed him as he passed through the doors heading inside just as she was exiting. "Katniss?" he questioned, opening the door again and looking out at her as she plodded toward the sidewalk. Her head whipped up and her eyes widened.

"Oh!" she said, slightly startled. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Sorry," he said, sheepishly, hands stuffed in his pockets, his backside still holding the door open. "I got caught up at the coffee shop."

"I thought you didn't work on Wednesdays?" she questioned.

"I don't work out front, but I come in every morning to bake," he explained. "Today there was a special order for cake balls, from one of the offices downtown, so I'm running a little behind. I'm sorry you had to wait for me."

He was still standing there holding the door ajar, so she finally moved to enter, and he let the door close behind them. She smiled shyly up at him. "Okay," was all she said.

"Well, should we go to the gallery?" he asked, and when she nodded he put his large, warm hand on the small of her back and guided her forward toward the other side of the hallway. The heat from the place where his hand just barely touched her back was overwhelming and she couldn't tell if the warmth was actually coming from his touch, or if her body was just overreacting to the idea of it. Either way, she felt her cheeks burning and she simultaneously wanted to run away and lean into him.

His art was tremendous and she told him so. She could hardly fathom how someone as genuinely upbeat and optimistic as Peeta could create such dark, foreboding scenes, but despite their subject matter she felt drawn to their beauty. She could almost trace his precise nature in every brush stroke; could feel his intrinsic goodness in every true color he had carefully blended.

"Wow, Peeta. Just wow," she said, her eyes wide as she took in one particular painting of what appeared to be wild dogs attacking the viewer, their glowing eyes like that of rabid wolves, but with something distinctly human there as well.

"I know they're...different," he said, trepidation in his voice. "I sometimes have to paint out the nightmares, to make them go away."

She turned to him, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, and then turned back again to the painting. "But Peeta," she said, disbelieving, "You're always so happy. Why do you have such bad dreams?"

The look he gave her was heartbreaking. "Things aren't always as they seem Katniss," he said. "We do what we can to make the best of what we're given."

She couldn't help it-her gaze went straight to his left leg. She had noticed many times in the coffee shop that he favored his right. She wondered if his nightmares had anything to do with the obvious injury he had somewhere on his left side. He noticed her gaze and he suddenly cleared his throat and declared in his most positive and cheery voice, "Who wants some ice cream?"

They laughed together over soft serve ice cream in a sticky vinyl booth tucked away in a corner of the student center cafeteria. She learned that Peeta grew up helping out in his family's bakery and that he had two older brothers. She told him about her little sister, the only person she was sure she loved in the whole world, and the smartest person she knew as well. He talked about his days on the wrestling team in high school, and she filled him in on her love of archery, and the fact that she learned everything she knew from her Dad and her best friend Gale, but consistently beat him in archery contests.

"So Gale, he's your boyfriend?" Peeta asked casually, looking down and taking a sip of his water.

"What, no!" she answered emphatically. "I mean, we did go out a few times, but it never worked," she elaborated.

His lips quirked up into a small smile and she could swear she heard him clap his hands together under the table.

"Well, I have class soon, so..." she trailed off.

"Sure," he stood up, preparing to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"What?" she asked, and then, realizing he meant at the coffee shop, "Oh sure. I'll see you then."

"I had fun, Katniss," he said, his tone genuine and then suddenly he was leaning in to hug her. She felt her entire body tense; she was not the hugging type. But then his arms were wrapping around her shoulders and she felt herself drawn into the warmth of his solid chest. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and she found herself breathing in the smell of nutmeg and vanilla on his shirt, her own arms hesitantly wrapping around his middle and clasping momentarily behind his back. All too soon he pulled away. "Well, see ya," he said, turning to go.

"See ya," she whispered. And then he was gone.