*Author Note: Hello readers! I hope that you are well. Here is another chapter. Enjoy! ~Potter-Weasley-Granger1*

Katniss' P.O.V.

This school was just the distraction that I needed. The comforting feeling of having to work hard and getting something in return. I worked hard for what I have accomplished, and school is no different. I want a better life for my sister and I and I am going to obtain it. All the soulmate stuff is hogwash. It's nonsense. Sure, my parents might have had it, but after my dad died in the mines my mother left. Not physically no, but her mind. She fell into the shell of herself, and we couldn't get her back no matter how hard we tried.

I used to dream about my soulmate. I used to be lovesick like all the other girls wondering what it would be like to see colors for the first time, but that all changed that faithful day that he was taken from us. I no longer cared about myself, but solely for Prim and her well-being. I had to provide for her and that meant not really caring about colors anymore. I worked really hard to get into this prestigious school. To be able to study among the best. I needed to get a good job in order to provide for Prim and my mother.

Back home my favorite place to study was the meadow. I just loved not having to worry about other people. I could lay in the blanketed thick grass and smell the soil and just be able to enjoy the sounds of nature as I studied for whatever subject. So here at this new school that is what I sought. A solitude a quiet space, hopefully a grassy space. My father used to speak about the colors of the meadow and the forest how wonderful they were, and I desired so much to know the colors. To be able to experience them as he once did.

Peeta's P.O.V.

In my advanced art class, comical I know. Most of us can't even see color. Our project for the semester was to create something that brings us joy. We could use pottery, paint, paper, really whatever medium we wanted to. For those of us that didn't know color the professor labeled the colors for us, not that I know what they would even look like together. The whole first class I brainstormed ideas as to what on earth I would create. What truly makes me happy other than art itself?

I can bake bread, but it doesn't bring me joy. I am good at it but that means nothing. My family doesn't bring me joy, they bring me pain and hardship. I think my true joy will come when I meet her, whoever she is.

After class I am distraught. I have no ideas on what to create or how to do it. Should I use clay? Or a pencil? It doesn't even matter if I cannot find my muse. I have always wondered how the flowers looked. There is no way they were intended to be the grey color they are, or how the large trees look. I am told they are green, whatever color that is. And the sun, I feel its shine on my skin I know that it isn't actually dark. I wander the campus until I see a break in the trees and decide to go for a little walk, maybe that will clear my mind and help move the creative juices. Who knows you often get the best inspiration when you aren't even really looking.

Back home I didn't get to go outside much. My mother always had me baking or decorating the cakes. 'It's a full-time job', she would say. This was her way of keeping us busy distracting us from other lines of work we might desire to go into. Father owned the bakery and thus we should work it. There were no need for us to get other jobs elsewhere.

Walking now in the woods was nice. I for the first time in a while, felt free. Inhaling deeply, I can smell the pine and sap a hint of earth and can hear a trickle from a nearby stream. Being a baker that can't see color you get pretty good at smells. Knowing what to put into a loaf of bread. There at the end of working at the bakery I got pretty creative with stuff that I put into the bread, buyers liked the new bread filled with nuts or berries that we bought from the produce guy.

I continue quietly down the trail as to not interrupt the sound of the stream, searching for the location having the sudden desire to dip my toes into the running waters. I swiftly make my way down the slight incline and towards the bubbling waters rushing over stones. As I get closer, I see someone sitting on a rock close to the edge. Their dark hair is tied back in a braid neatly down their back. A backpack sits on the ground next to the rock. I step closer a twig snaps underneath my shoe breaking the silence causing not only myself to jump but the person on the rock to turn and look at who has broken the solace.

The moment our eyes meet the world suddenly changes. It's like an explosion. Light begins to bounce allover and like a painter the world around me is becoming colored. For the first time I can see the green of the trees and the blue of the water. The grass and the rocks. Then I see her. It all comes into focus and in all the chaos that is color she is in the middle settling everything. I make my way closer and say, "It's you. You're the one. I found you."

She looks as stunned as I feel. I'm sure she is trying to calm the colors as well. Her hair is a lovely shade of brown much like the bark on a tree. I try to look everywhere at once, but also not look away from her. She is my anchor keeping me sane in this crazy spinning of emotions that I currently have. I want to sit and talk with her, to cry over color and to discuss a future. I want to learn about her and find out what she likes and doesn't like. I want to discover favorite colors with her.

She shakes her head as if to clear a thought, quickly grabs her bag and darts toward the trail. "Wait," I call after her, "What is your name?" Only she doesn't wait. She doesn't stop, she just keeps running.

Katniss' P.O.V.

I made my way down a trail and found a stream. Back home my father taught me how to fish. One day he took me to the lake close to our house. Prim was much to young to join so it was a nice time just me and dad. Feeding into the lake was a quick stream. Father said that the quick fish will try to stay in the stream and once they get to the lake they can hide in the deeper water. It is best to catch them before they reach the lake. We spent the afternoon with poles reeling in fish. That night we had a fish feast. That skill helped to feed us after my father died. Sitting here by the stream I remember him and all that he did for my family. The plan in me coming down here was to study, but I am just so mesmerized by the grey water flowing down the rocks. Watching the small fish attempt to swim upstream.

Then the quiet that I once was enjoying is broken as a twig snaps behind me informing me that there is someone else in the woods. I quickly turn and just for a moment I look at the mans eyes. That was all it took was a moment. Things began to happen, to change. Colors I never dreamed of being real began to place themselves on items claiming them as their own. Trees no longer just smelling of pine but now are green and brown and wonderful. The stream no longer simply grey now bubbling blue and shiny silver and orange fish fighting to swim. The cool rock that I was sitting on still grey but even more beautiful than I could have imagined.

Then there was him, the man. His hair yellow like the sun but lighter maybe and his eyes blue like the running water in the stream. His face looks kind and for a moment, just a moment I want to speak with him. Remembering all that I am doing and who I am doing it for that moment quickly passes and I shake my head ridding the thought from my brain. In one swift motion I pick up my bag and run off towards the trail. I hear him yell after me, "Wait! What's your name?" Again, for a moment as I am running, I want to stop, go back and talk to the man, but I can't I don't need any distractions right now. And that man would definitely be a distraction.

*Author Note: Hi readers. What do you think? I know they met early, but I think it will be a good way for Peeta to try to figure out who she is. Let me know your thoughts! ~Potter-Weasley-Granger1*