Author's Note: Originally a submission for Prompts in Panem, October 2012, Day Five. I own nothing.

He needs cheese buns anyway. Other people buy cheese buns. She's not the only one who likes them. Besides, if she came in with Prim and he didn't have them, he'd never hear the end of it from the blonde.

It's not the first time he's worked himself into a state because of Katniss Everdeen but since she's been away at school, mere geographical distance was enough to give his heart a break from the embarrassing palpitations it developed any time she was in proximity.

However, as her evil little sister had teasingly told him in Delly's office yesterday, Katniss was home for the summer after graduating from college with nothing to do but spend time with Prim. "And eat cheese buns," she added with a smirk. Prim was one of the sweetest girls he'd ever known with a secret devious streak a mile wide. He had learned this in Katniss' absence as Fate, seemingly fond of irony and the occasional joke on his heart, decided to give him plenty of opportunities to spend time with the sister of the girl he was hopeless for.

He was at the high school often, sometimes substituting a class when Delly, now the assistant principal, was desperate. Other times he just came to visit his best friend and as Prim was a senior in high school and qualified to work as Delly's aide, he often found himself in their company after school, laughing, devouring a variety of Mellark's Bakery goods and, to Peeta's chagrin, teasing him about his apparently transparent feelings for Katniss.

Yesterday's teasing had turned rather serious though when he begged Prim not to be so obvious about his feelings for Katniss, well, in front of Katniss.

"You mean your undying love?" Prim had asked, but upon seeing his expression, she softened her tone. "Peeta, I'm not going to embarrass you in front of her, I promise. I care about her. And you. And I just don't want to see you unhappy because you're too afraid to speak to her or her unhappy because…well, because she's Katniss. I think you could actually maybe be really good for her."

He tried to breathe a little easier at her words but, as ever, with Katniss in his mind he found it impossible. Prim's words were so sweet he waned to hug her, but he knows that the two of them are cut from the same cloth—hopeless romantics utterly incapable of giving up faith in people they love. While this was a nice idea in novels, in the real world it left him with unsatisfying relationships and unrealistic expectations. Prim's hopes were no more grounded in reality than his endless boyish daydreams had been.

"That's really sweet, Prim," he had said, "but I haven't been able to muster up so much as a sentence in your sister's presence in like, the 16 years I've known her, so any dreams you have of me sweeping her off her feet this summer…maybe you should just let them go."

She and Delly both looked at him with such pity in their eyes that he bolted immediately, but not before yelling at them to watch Titanic if they were so interested in romantic tragedies and threatening Delly with an embago on his cookies if her eyes became even the slightest bit glassy.

His phone startles him out of his thoughts, buzzing loudly on the prep table. He's surprised to see Prim calling at six o'clock in the morning.

"Hey, what's up? You all right?" he asks in a rush.

"Oh, I'm fine, don't worry. I just need you to do something and promise you won't get mad."

"So I need to promise to do something that I'm likely to get mad about?"

"Ugh, Peeta it's too early for this. Listen, I was supposed to go out with Katniss tonight and some of her friends, kind of a joint graduation celebration for us. But turns out, Rory planned something super sweet for tonight and I really want to go and I can't leave Katniss hanging!" He swallows heavily. "So do you think maybe you could meet her tonight at Sae's? You can bring Delly if you want so it's not awkward."

"Prim, if I'm there, it will be awkward. Also, you're a really bad liar."

"I'm not lying! Call Rory if you want! I have to get ready for school. So please please be there tonight at 8 o'clock. You don't want her sitting there alone do you?"

He doesn't even know where to begin with this obvious ploy of hers and he thinks, yes, I think she'd be perfectly happy sitting there by herself. It's Katniss. She certainly wasn't going to be begging for his company.

Prim doesn't wait for his response before chirping back in.

"Just call Delly and be there at 8. Thanks Peeta!"

He hears the click before he can respond.

Delly was busy that night. Of course she was busy. The two little conniving…but he can't bring himself to say anything truly bad about either of them, even in his mind. Besides, if he accused them of evil who would possibly believe him? The two of them looked like they walked around town singing songs and leaving fairy dust in their wake.

His thoughts are interrupted when he catches sight of her. Still the same olive skin, the sharp gray eyes, the smattering of freckles that are particularly prominent across her nose—all the things that had appeared in his sketchbook countless times over the years. Her thick brown hair is loose and wavy, the way he knows she wears it for special occasions, and he notices she has on the same brown boots she'd worn in high school. With a dress. She's wearing a dress. It probably has a color and a style but he left his brain about a mile back. He stands up, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, and concludes that Katniss Everdeen is in no way good for his health…mental or physical.

He smiles at her and lifts his hand in a wave but when Katniss spots him she stops short. She looks like an animal caught in a trap, but she'd know more about that than he would. She just stares at him and he knows he should think of spending a night alone with Katniss Everdeen as a dream come true, but he feels vaguely like he just showed up for a huge test he's not prepared for.

Before he gets too far along in this line of thinking, a spiky-haired brunette appears behind Katniss and pushes her forward.

"Let's go, brainless. One foot in front of the other."

He realizes these two are somehow here together. And apparently, since Katniss' friend plops herself in his booth without ceremony, he is with them.

Oh no, she thinks. Not him.

She was initially annoyed when Prim bailed on her, but she had come back to spend the entire summer with her sister and there would be plenty of time for the two of them. Besides, she had Johanna with her for the night.

Prim said she'd arranged for some of Katniss' old friends to meet her at Sae's Pub. She was skeptical about this as her only "friends" in high school were Gale and Madge and they had both moved away, one of them with a bit more finality and isolation than the other. But in any case, when she thinks of her old friends, she certainly doesn't think of Peeta Mellark, a boy whom she had never shared more than a passing sentence with, sitting in a booth by himself wearing a tie and a nervous expression.

"So you know Katniss?" Johanna says to him. "I'm Johanna. Who the hell are you?" Oh god.

"Um, yeah, I'm Peeta. Hi. Hi Katniss. We um, well we grew up together. It's good to see you." He looks back and forth between the two of them and she wonders if he's not more desperate for an escape route than she is.

"You Katniss' high school sweetheart or something?" Katniss groans and sits down. She knows she should intervene, but once Jo gets started it's like trying to stop an avalanche.

"Uh no, not at all. I'd be surprised if Katniss has ever called anyone her 'sweetheart.'" At this Johanna barks out a laugh and Katniss wonders who the hell this guy is and why, in her few interactions with him, he always presumes to know her so well.

"You're funny, blue eyes," Jo says, and he smiles at her, but when he catches Katniss' expression he changes tacks.

"So Delly was supposed to come tonight. You remember Delly Cartwright? Obviously, she works with Prim, I'm sure she's told you. Anyway I guess she was busy so…sorry you're just stuck with me." He shrugs and she can tell he's desperate to seem casual but he's sitting there rubbing his hands on his pants and barely meeting her eye so she just blurts out—

"Why are you wearing a tie?"

She can see Johanna's exaggerated eye roll at her lack of social graces, but really, she's one to fucking talk.

"Oh, well I work at the high school sometimes as a substitute teacher, art classes, English, math when Delly's really desperate and lets me play Ferris Bueller on VHS. Censored, of course. Anyway, there's a dress code."

Johanna seems utterly charmed by him, or at least charmed by his ability to render Katniss nervous and unsettled. Jo has the same expression on her face that she used to wear when she'd watch the drama on Dance Moms unfold back in their shared dorm.

Despite his calm demeanor, Katniss notices that the tips of his ears have turned slightly pink and she wonders if he's lying, if he really did teach today, but before she can interrogate him, the avalanche catches speed.

"So is that how you know our lovely Primrose? I used to call her 'Jail Bait' but Katniss didn't approve and I believe she's legal now anyway. But I'm sure you know that already, huh Peeta Bread?"

"No! I mean, yes, I know she's 18 and I see her at school—but just, you know, in my classes or Delly's office or highly supervised atmospheres." He glances at Katniss but can't hold her angry gaze for long before he looks away again. "I'm kidding, I mean, she's like a little sister to me. She's a great kid, really."

"Yeah, I know," Katniss responds sharply. "She's my little sister. I thought you had your own siblings to pal around with."

He looks down, deflated, his nervousness taken over by something else.

"Um, no actually. I mean, I have brothers, but they moved away after…well, after my father died. They have families and jobs in other towns and everything so, you know, I get to see them when they come to visit."

He ends this with a smile that he seems to think is convincing, but she feels like she just kicked a puppy and she knows Johanna doesn't do well with pity. Thankfully Peeta speaks before she can say something utterly useless or Johanna can respond with something blunt and insensitive.

"Well, can I get you ladies anything to drink?"

"Whiskey, no ice—"

"We're fine," Katniss says loudly over Johanna.

"Speak for yourself!"

"We can buy our own drinks, Peeta. I'm not destitute."

Johanna groans deeply, probably annoyed once again with her friend's refusal to take free drinks from men, one of the few sadistic joys she should get from being a woman, Jo always tells her.

"It's just a drink, Katniss. I wasn't worried about your bank balance. Besides, poor people don't generally own dresses," he looks her up and down, "like that."

Johanna guffaws loudly at this and Peeta seems delighted to learn the Katniss can blush and scowl at the same time. She hadn't meant to dress up, not to Sae's of all places, but both Jo and Prim insisted she at least make an effort and the two of them made a pushy and unlikely team. So she put on an old but pristine shirt dress that tied at the waist and buttoned at the front. Jo told her she looked like a milkmaid which prompted her to take her hair out of its braid, but she still liked the dress and realized it was one thing her mother left her that she could truly appreciate…besides Prim, of course.

Peeta gets up before she can protest further and Johanna calls out behind him, "She wants a Long Island Iced Tea!"

Katniss turns sharply to her friend.

"Why are you encouraging this? We don't even know him."

"I dunno, I've had a longer conversation with him than I do with most guys I meet in bars." Johanna winks at her horrified expression. "Just kidding, he's all yours…clearly."

Before Katniss can question her, Johanna whispers in her ear, "Listen, he's cute and you need to get laid."

"Jo! I'm not going to sleep with Peeta Mellark of all people! For god's sake…"

"Why, you're not attracted to him?"

"I…no! I mean, he's not—"

Thankfully Peeta comes back and interrupts her sputtering. Jo shoots her a smug smile before taking her drink and getting up.

"Peeta, it was wonderful to meet you, but that Daniel Craig look-alike at the bar probably has a backseat with my name on it. Thanks for the whiskey, handsome."

She walks away and he raises his eyebrows at Katniss who immediately grabs her drink and takes a huge gulp to buy herself time. She can't walk out of a bar ten minutes after she's entered it, can she—without a good excuse?

"Well, thank you for this…drink you forced upon me."

He laughs, "You're welcome. I'm not…you know, expecting anything because I bought you a drink."

She looks at him, horrified.

"No! I didn't mean that. I meant I don't expect you to sit with me if you're uncomfortable. I know we don't know each other that well and you're more than welcome to hang with your friend and keep her away from that guy that looks nothing like Daniel Craig on a good day." She laughs and he beams at her. "Really, I'm all right on my own. Have to get up early anyway—bakery hours."

She should take him up on his offer, one more in a growing list of kindnesses that Peeta Mellark has bestowed on her for years without her permission, acts that put her in the uncomfortable position of resenting him while knowing that he deserves better, deserves her kindness in return, at least.

"So you own the bakery now?" He nods through a sip of beer. "Did you inherit after your father…?"

"Yeah, I've been running it for almost four years now."

"Oh, I didn't know. Prim didn't mention that. I'm sorry, I um, I liked your father a lot."

"He liked you too," Peeta smiles at her and she'll never know what she did to earn the fondness of two kind-hearted men she never went out of her way to speak to.

"I didn't know it was that long ago. You didn't go away to school?"

"Oh, no. I was going to. But then Dad died and neither of my brothers wanted the bakery so I just kind of stuck around. Went to state school."

"What about your mom?" She hates the she feels compelled to ask him this. She knows his mother is a sore subject. Hell, she's probably a sore subject for everybody who ever met her. She'll personally never get that pinched, angry face out of her mind, her hands grabbing the boy's blonde hair roughly…

"She re-married. Moved away with her new husband. Didn't really want anything to do with the bakery after that."

Katniss thinks maybe he's implying that his mom didn't want anything to do with him, but she doesn't know how to ask this and she doesn't understand why she feels compelled to tell him that she understands, that she knows about bad mothers; at least she and Prim experienced true affection, for a few years anyway. She can't be sure he had that luxury.

"It's for the best though," he says. "I mean, I always wanted the bakery. I guess I just wanted a few years to myself first, on my own, explore the world. That sounds really stupid and naïve probably, but I kind of just wanted to know what it's like to live outside this town."

"Shitty people everywhere, trust me," she answers quickly. "Better food other places maybe, but you have the bakery so you don't have to worry about that. And maybe there is more to paint in Paris or something, but my friend got mugged in the subway by some crazy French guy and at least here you have the woods so that's something. Sorry, I'm doing a really bad job, huh?"

She laughs nervously, unsure why she's trying to hard to make him feel better. He looks at her with such warmth that she squirms in her seat. She finds herself glad that they would both look away as children when they caught each other's eyes. She doesn't know how she would've handled looking into those warm, kind eyes with any steadiness.

She doesn't know what to do with kind people. They make her uncomfortable because she knows it's only a matter of time before they work their way inside and take root there. She already feels so full inside where Prim lives and even Haymitch, to some extent. Not to mention the ghosts of her father and mother taking up any spare room.

"No, it's sweet. How did you know I painted?"

She flinches at his compliment (she has definitely never been called sweet before, except sarcastically by her uncle) but immediately her panic takes over at being found out.

"Oh, well, I don't know how I knew that I guess. I think some of your paintings were up in the school hallways? I think I remember that."

She's never been a good liar but she hopes he buys her bluff. His paintings were up in the school hallways, posted on some of the tack boards, but she remembers one specifically—it had been sitting on an easel in the art room when she walked by one day. Somehow she knew it was his before she even saw his name scrawled in paint in the corner. It was a rendering of the forest, her forest, and even though she knew he didn't venture in anywhere near as often as she did, she felt in that moment that knew them, understood them as she did, and somehow had this magical ability to bring them to life. Every time she painted her walls or looked for a new blanket or piece of clothing, she pictured the deep greens he had used and always ended up picking the things that matched them best.

She is two and a half drinks in and she is in trouble. Peeta excuses himself to the bathroom and she stumbles away to find Johanna. After an hour and a half of talking to Peeta about college and their hometown and her wavering about grad school, she realizes she's never said so much to any person in one sitting ever.

She finds Jo and ignores the ginger attached to her neck.

"Jo, I think we should go home."

"Why, is the town baker starting to look better after a few drinks?"

Katniss sighs into her hands. She's 5'2" and she rarely finishes more than a beer. Why would Johanna think LIITs would be a good idea? She sees the evil glint in her friend's eye and can figure it out.

"Come on, you two look pretty cozy. Finish your drink, straddle the blonde, and maybe you can go for small town bingo this summer. We just need to find the cobbler and the candlestick maker! For your sake, I hope they look like Peeta."

"Stop! I'm not going to sleep with him or kiss him or any of that. This isn't romantic," she says the last word with a sneer.

"Ha, well yeah! What would you know about romance?"

"Nothing! This is my point! I don't feel that way about…men." Johanna's companion looks up at her and gives her a sleazy smile. "Oh get out of here, Robert Redford. I'm not into chicks and you're not gonna find yourself in the middle of a girl sandwich so please fuck off!"

The guy slithers away and Johanna is thankfully apathetic about his dismissal.

"God, he does look more like Redford, huh? I was not looking forward to seeing that in daylight."

"Can you focus for a second? I just want to get out of here."

"I'm not helping you run away from a guy you like."

"I don't—he's fine, he's perfectly nice. I'm just not built that way and I'm not looking for," she gestures vaguely "that."

"Built what way?"

"I just, I've never felt that way and I don't think I can. When I was with Gale it was nice I guess, physically, especially when we were mad at each other…which is weird," Jo raises her eyebrows, glad the drinks have loosened her friend's tongue. "But I just never felt enough, not as much as he did anyway. And I don't think I'm built that way and I don't want to hurt anyone else in the process."

"Maybe you could feel that way for someone else? Peeta, for example."

"You're wrong."

"Prove it."

Before Katniss can answer, Jo has summoned Peeta over from where he was waiting patiently in his booth. "Peeta, Katniss has something for you," Johanna gestures to her and smiles expectantly.

"Katniss?" he looks at her in confusion. She scowls at Johanna but finds herself swaying slightly and Peeta grabs her shoulders protectively.

"You okay?"

"Oh fuck it," she says and pulls him to her by his shirt collar. She presses her mouth strongly against his but her lips feel numb and she can barely register the extent to which he's responding before she pulls away.

"There!" she shouts at Johanna. "Nothing!" Peeta looks both bewildered and hurt by her actions and before she can think of explaining herself, she runs out of the bar to vomit on the sidewalk.

Katniss Everdeen is in his bed and he's never been more fucking miserable. He doesn't know exactly what prompted her to kiss him last night, but when Johanna patted him on the shoulder and said, "Sorry, dude" as she made her way out on the arm of Redford Jr., he had a feeling that Katniss' actions were prompted by pity or a dare or something else that made him want to drown himself in his coffee.

His own misery aside, he felt nothing but protectiveness for her after she finished throwing up and Jo had taken off. He thought about bringing her to her uncle's house but Haymitch would certainly be there waiting for her, drunk and stronger than he looks, not to mention her surprisingly fiery and over-protective little sister.

He hears footsteps down the hall and slides a pancake onto a plate.

"Um, hi," Katniss croaks behind him, looking confused, embarrassed, and definitely hungover. She's still wearing her dress—he was pretty sure if it had been on fire she still wouldn't have forgiven him for taking it off without permission—but she has one of his button downs draping off her shoulders from when he placed it on her last night. This could be the worst she's looked in her life and he can't remember ever seeing anything so beautiful. He tries to memorize the way she looks standing in his kitchen so that he can sketch it later. Because that wouldn't be creepy or anything.

"Hey, I made pancakes and coffee. Or hot chocolate if you prefer."

"I—how do you know I like hot chocolate?"

"Um, Prim might have mentioned it," he says but she just keeps staring at him skeptically as she sits down at the table. "I mean, I just remember when she started drinking coffee and I said it would stunt her growth and she just told me she was going to be petite no matter what she did, just like you, and then she mentioned that you never liked coffee, only tea with sugar, and hot chocolate if you were feeling…indulgent…" he trails off at her stare.

"Prim has been drinking coffee for years."

He looks back at the skillet. "I have a good memory."

"Peeta," she takes a deep breath and he realizes he's about to get the morning after brush-off speech from a girl he didn't even sleep with. He really couldn't feel more pathetic. "You don't…like Prim, do you?"

That's not what he was expecting. "What? No!"

"I know you two are close and you seem to remember a lot about her and—"

"I remember a lot about you." She looks up at him with wide eyes and he knows that this is probably the last time she's ever going to be in his apartment (and it wasn't even by choice, he thinks bitterly) so he might as well get it all on the table so that maybe he can let this go for good and get on with his life. "I remember everything about you. I like Prim, truly, independently of anything I might…feel for you. She's a good kid, like I said. But at this point in my life, it's pretty far-fetched to think of me having serious feelings for anyone other than, well, the girl currently ready to bolt from my kitchen, let alone her 18-year-old sister." He takes a deep breath and finishes, "Sorry, that's probably not something you want to hear this morning…or ever. I just thought, for the sake of honesty, I'd get that out of the way."

She had been staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes until he came to the frankest part of his speech and since then her eyes haven't left her cooling breakfast.

"You should probably eat that. It's an apple cider pancake. They're really good."

He was preparing to leave the room and leave her in peace, for the rest of her life probably, when her voice breaks in, more sharply than he expects from a girl whose cheeks are still hopelessly flushed.

"Did something happen last night? Is that what this is?"

"What?" he asks in utter disbelief.

"Did we…drunkenly fool around or…? I mean, it would be pretty convenient for you. One of the girls you never got to sleep with in high school comes back to town, maybe only for the summer, and you get the opportunity to get it out of your system?"

"Wha—did you hear anything I just said?"

"Yes! You had a little crush on me. So what, you get to satisfy your teenage fantasies? Are you going to call up your buddies afterwards and tell them you went slumming with the high school outcast?"

"I don't have any buddies here!" he yells. "I have a family bakery…with no family around to speak of. And I have Delly and Prim! That's it! Both of whom, I'll have you know, have been begging me to profess my clearly ill advised feelings for you. So at least, out of this mess, I'll get to say a few 'I told you so's.' That's something, right?"

He wants to stop there but he can't. "And also, it wasn't a high school crush. I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the first day of kindergarten when you sang in music class, so for the record, it would probably take more than a drunken one-night stand to get you out of my system."

He has startled her speechless again. He'd always hoped to find to some kind of closure with her, no matter how awkward or pain staking. He never really pictured her running into his arms or returning his sentiments (when he had they were more like fantasies really, and he wasn't about to admit to that), but he didn't think she'd throw them back in his face and mock him.

"By the way, nothing happened. Well, you kissed me. Then you proudly proclaimed to Johanna, 'nothing!' which I assume meant that you felt nothing, so once again, a dream come true for me. Then I brought you back here to sleep. After I cleaned the vomit off my shoes. Enjoy your breakfast, I have a busy bakery downstairs."

They were the best fucking pancakes she ever had. Johanna had apologized half-heartedly and headed back to the city to start her new job. This was fairly typical behavior from her so Katniss wasn't too upset, but she was ashamed to admit that she kept wishing she could exchange Prim's company for Jo's. Avoiding both her sister's probing questions and the bakery for a week had not been easy.

This morning though, she was greeted for the second time in her life with a bakery box on her porch, except this time it came with a note.

I'm sorry I yelled at you. Don't get mad at Prim, she meant well. I mostly work evenings so feel free to come in the mornings for your cheese buns minus the awkwardness.

Peeta

Unfortunately, Prim picked this moment to walk up behind her sister, spot the free cheese buns and pastries and, just Katniss' luck, snatch the note out of her hand.

"You said it went fine! Why is he apologizing? What happened?" She narrows her eyes at her sister. "What did you do?"

Katniss rolls her eyes—this is her sister and without knowing any of the facts, Prim assumes that Peeta is innocent and she's at fault?

They spend the morning working their way through the treats as Prim pesters her with questions and begs for details that make Katniss cringe, especially when she realizes that lying or glossing over details will never, ever work with Prim. In re-hashing the story, Katniss feels a lead weight in her stomach that she's pretty sure is guilt, especially when she recalls some of the things she said to him. Prim's expression grows more horrified as the story goes on and when Katniss finishes, she just stares.

"Oh, what?" Katniss barks. "I don't owe him anything just because he has a…a crush on me."

"A crush? Oh Katniss, you are hopeless," she sighs and Katniss is about to call her out for her insufferable romanticism when Prim turns cold again. "No, you don't owe him anything because of his feelings for you, but after the drinks and the fake kiss and the vomit…not to mention him showing up alone, which I'm sure was utterly terrifying for him, especially when faced with you and Johanna together, god, I can only imagine—well, I'm pretty sure you owe him an apology, not the other way around."

"He specifically told me what hours he doesn't work so that I wouldn't see him," Katniss adds pathetically.

"He did that because he's embarrassed! Come on, be a grown up. We're going to the bakery tonight."

"Fine, you're right. He didn't…he didn't do anything wrong," Katniss admits.

"He showed up in a tie! If that's not the cutest friggin' thing I've ever heard…" she trails off as she follows Katniss inside, clearly unaware that she's won this battle. Or she just likes rubbing it in.

The evening shift is slow for a weekend and he spots the two girls through the window almost as soon as they appear. Prim looks animated to say the least, flailing her arms and talking non-stop, whether in anger or excitement, he can't tell. Katniss just crosses her arms in clear irritation. They spend about five minutes like this before they choose to cross the street and come in.

Despite his confession and all that has ostensibly changed between the two of them, watching her walk into the bakery makes him feel exactly the same way it did when he was a teenager—nervous, awkward, excited despite there being no reason for him to expect anything good to come out of this interaction. Yup, just like high school. Maybe Gale Hawthorne will walk in after her and beat the remains of my shattered heart into ash. Jesus, I'm getting dramatic.

"Peeta!" Prim says as soon as she walks in the door and offers him a huge hug that stings of pity, but he can't bear to disentangle himself from the well-meaning girl. He catches Katniss' eye over Prim's shoulder but quickly drops his gaze. To say she is visibly uncomfortable would be putting it mildly.

"Thank you so much for the treats!" Prim says when she finally releases him.

"Oh you're welcome, glad you enjoyed them."

"I did! Katniss enjoyed them too." She shoots her sister such an obvious look that he lets out a loud laugh, partly out of nerves. Katniss predictably scowls at him. Prim quickly recovers and ignores his outburst.

"You know what? I forgot, I told Rory I'd meet him down the street at 6 for dinner. I'm going to be late!" He and Katniss send her similar looks of skepticism. "Okay well, you two have fun, catch up. Katniss has nowhere to be, do you?" She yells her goodbyes as she runs out the door and avoids Katniss' deadly glare.

She is slow to return her gaze to his. He feels like he's been left to corner a frightened gazelle on his own.

"You know, if I hadn't met Rory, I'd think he was just a boyfriend she made up to get her out of awkward situations."

She offers him a small smile. "Well, he's very real but he does the job just as well, I think."

He smiles back and a big part of him wants to help her out of this situation she's floundering in but he has no idea what to say to her. Even before his failed confession, he'd had no idea what to say to Katniss. This was a disease that only acted up in her presence and unfortunately seemed like it would not be going away with age or experience.

"I'm really sorry, Peeta."

"Hey, it's okay, I needed a new pair of shoes anyway," he tries to joke, but she's having none of it.

"Not for that. I mean, I am sorry for being a drunken fool but…the next day. I had no right to say those things to you."

"Well, I didn't actually mean to say those others things to you first. So I'm not surprised that you reacted that way."

She's silent and he's pretty sure this mutual apology has only served to make things between them more strained.

"You don't really know me," she lets out in a small voice.

"I'm sorry?"

"You don't really know me, Peeta. We never even had a conversation before that night. And the few times we did interact," she pauses, "I'm not exactly nice, Peeta, or crush-worthy."

"I wouldn't really call it a crush." He sees she's about to argue and carries on quickly. "I just mean, a crush you can get over. I sort of wish it were a crush. Listen, you know how you knew about my painting?" She avoids his gaze but he knows she's listening. "That's just a little thing, but you came by that information easily and it says something about me, probably. Well, I know things like that about you. Don't worry, I didn't spend nights driving past your house or anything, I just…know little things." He can't stop talking, no matter how clear it is that his words are once again making her deeply uncomfortable. "And big things, like Prim."

"What about Prim?" she asks sharply.

"You raised her, Katniss. On your own, I know you did. Before your mother, well… and before Haymitch came along. I'm sorry, I'm not saying these things to embarrass you. I just don't think you should be ashamed. I think it's amazing. Prim is amazing and you did that."

"Is that what the cake was about?" Her face is flushed, whether in embarrassment or anger he can't tell.

"The cake?" he asks. And it dawns on him. "Your birthday cake? From when we were kids?"

"Yes, Peeta. The cake you left on my porch. You know, I saw you that day. Not that a cake like that could have come from any other place. But I saw you and I followed you home." Any happiness he felt in her remembering his gift suddenly sunk in his chest and he knew where she was going with this. "I saw her grab you on the steps after she found out about you wasting an entire cake on a 'Seam brat.' I can't imagine what she did to you when you got inside. You didn't have to do that for me."

"I wanted to. It was silly I guess," he remembers that day vividly and feels ashamed—ashamed that she saw, that she knew what it cost him, that she knew it was him in the first place. "I was just a stupid kid. Somehow I thought I could keep it a secret from both of you." He gives her a pained smile that she doesn't return. "Without your dad around…I just wanted you to know that someone remembered your birthday."

She gives him a look of deep pain but somehow he doesn't hate it the way he hates those sad looks Delly sometimes sends his way. It doesn't feel wrapped in pity. But maybe he's just projecting.

A customer suddenly comes in the bakery and she stands awkwardly in the corner as he fills an order.

As soon as this customer is done, she's leaving. She apologized, she…possibly grilled him again about his crush, a fact she will definitely be leaving out of her report to Prim, but at least now she can leave with clean conscience. Mostly.

"Okay well," she starts as soon as the customer walks out, "I'm sorry, again. And the pancakes were amazing."

"It's the apple cider."

"I know," she says and she can't help rolling her eyes; she may be a terrible cook but she has taste buds.

"You know, we make apple cider donuts every weekend. You have to come early in the morning to get them, but if you're interested…"

She should say no. She should avoid the bakery at all costs. But he's being kind and sweet and if it were any other guy, she'd assume he was doing it to get into her pants. But she knew him better than that. She had noticed things about him growing up, one of which was that he had a good heart and like Prim, his goodness was apparently incapable of being stamped out by life or heartbreak or bad parents…or unkind words from the girl you like, she added regretfully to herself.

"Okay, well, maybe I'll see you on Saturday," she says quickly.

"Actually I won't be here in the morning—I coach Little League on Saturdays."

She furrows her eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, why?"

"God, you make me sick." He barks out a laugh when he should be horrified and she can't stop herself. "It's like you were created in a lab by sad, lonely women. Do you also read to old women and throw parties for your girlfriends' cats?"

"Weird Science."

"Huh?"

"That sounds like that movie. You know, the one where the kid from Breakfast Club and some other guy create their dream woman. You know what I'm talking about?"

"I—yes. That's a terrible movie."

"It's a classic."

"Yeah, it's up there with Citizen Cane."

"So you're saying if you were sitting around on a Saturday and it was on TV you wouldn't watch it?"

"No," she says dryly, "I'm busy on Saturdays teaching music to inner-city kids."

"Really?"

"No." He smiles and she tries to ignore the stupid dimple in his cheek. Who only has one dimple anyway?

"So you wouldn't watch Weird Science…but—" he pretends to think for a second, "Pretty in Pink. There's no way you're not going to stop at Pretty in Pink."

She looks around the bakery, amazed no one else has walked in and interrupted their conversation. And why hasn't she stopped their conversation?

"Peeta…what the hell are we talking about?"

"80s movies?"

"Why?"

"I dunno. What's your favorite movie?"

"I have to go. I have things to take care of."

She has nothing to take care of. She's flustered and she's fairly certain he's flirting with her. It feels like they're playing a game and it makes her feel silly and light-hearted, but she's pretty sure she doesn't know the rules and that terrifies her. So with that she starts to leave.

"Jake Ryan!" He yells as she's halfway out the door.

She stops and without turning around bites out, "What?"

"Jake Ryan. That's what you'd stop channel surfing for. I should've known better. Duckie would annoy the shit out of you."

She tries to hide the smile on her face but she fears he can hear it in her voice as she calls out, "Blaine is a douche!" and finally leaves the bakery, smiling until her cheeks hurt.

The next time they're truly alone together is after Prim's high school graduation a month later. She's been stopping by the bakery from time to time on her own. At first he was shocked she didn't bring Prim along as a buffer, but he knew that Prim was someone who wanted everything on the table, messy feelings and all, and she tended to make things more awkward between the two of them when she was around.

On busy days when the bakery had a line of customers, Katniss tended to take her order and leave quickly, giving him a small wave and a smile. It made his day every time. Other days when it was quiet she stuck around a little longer and actually engaged him in conversation. He used to be so terrified to talk to her, worried that something he'd say would make her uncomfortable or have her running scared, but the difference now was that he had admitted his feelings to her. At this point, the most benign statement from him could make her squirm and blush so he stopped worrying about it altogether.

In fact, he started saying things specifically to get under her skin—anything he could think of to make her blush or laugh or even yell at him. It was easier than he ever thought it would be and talking to her quickly became his favorite thing in the world.

Tonight, by some miracle (or more realistically, by some sneaky intervention by Delly and Prim), he's sitting alone with her in a corner booth of the local Mexican restaurant, laughing and talking. He had been invited to Prim's graduation and of course wouldn't have missed it for anything; seeing Katniss in another dress was just icing on the cake. They had all gone out to dinner afterward and currently Prim is forcing Rory into the world's worst karaoke duet while Delly sits at the bar with Thom, the school's custodian who recently started leaving wildflowers on her desk.

Katniss and Peeta laugh into their margaritas at the pained look on Rory's face.

"Why why didn't we know it was karaoke night before we came here?" Peeta groans.

"I didn't even know Renee's had a karaoke night! This is a new and terrible development."

"This is what happens when you leave town, Katniss, things spin out of control." She rolls her eyes at him, predictably. "Seriously, if this gets really bad, please intervene."

"What do you expect me to do about it?" she asks as she licks her finger and runs it around the rim of her glass to pick up the margarita salt. She sucks the salt off her finger and he forgets his name for a minute. "Well?"

"I don't know," he says, struggling to focus on their conversation. "Go up there and sing the Valley Song." She blushes but he continues, "That's preferable to 'Don't Go Breaking my Heart.' You know that's what she's going to pick. Please picture Rory singing the Elton John part."

She breaks into giggles and he picks up on the redness in her cheeks even in their dim booth.

"Your laugh is as pretty as your voice," he says before he can think better of it.

Her giggles stop abruptly and he could kick himself for it.

"I still can't believe you remember that." Well, that isn't what he expected her to say. That she's still sitting in this booth is a miracle in itself.

"Well, it was kind of hard to forget. It was like the defining moment of my childhood." She refuses to meet his eye and he stops himself from saying something even sappier that she'll hate. "Aside from that time Marc broke my go-kart. That was devastating. It's like my Nam. I still have flashbacks."

She starts laughing again. He's currently sitting in a booth with the woman of his dreams and she's laughing at his jokes and not running out when he says something sweet and she's maybe, possibly flirting back. So he has to ask.

"Katniss? Why, um…" he pauses and she looks up at him expectantly. "I know you'll hate me for this, but I just have to ask— why did you kiss me that night?"

"Oh," she says heavily. She looks flustered and even a little sad, but to his surprise, she doesn't seem angry that he asked. "I was just trying to prove something, I guess."

"Prove what?"

"Well, I was talking to Jo and," she sighs in frustration as she struggles for words. "Gale and I broke up. Years ago. And it hurt because he was my best friend, but beyond that, I wasn't really that hurt to lose a boyfriend, if that makes sense. And there hasn't really been anyone since then and I sort of started thinking that maybe relationships and romance and all that stuff just aren't for me. Jo thought I was full of shit. So I tried to use you to prove her wrong and I really am sorry. Again." She lets out a breath.

"So you were trying to prove that you could kiss me and feel nothing?"

She nods and can't meet his eyes.

"And your experiment was successful?" She nods again. He clutches his chest and slumps in the booth.

"Peeta?" she asks frantically as she grabs him.

"It hurts," he groans dramatically and holds his hand over his heart.

"Oh shut up, you're not funny," she says as she hits him in the arm, but she can't hide the smile on her face. He starts chuckling. "If it makes you feel better, I was really drunk, I couldn't actually feel anything. I mean, really—my lips were numb. You could've been a golden retriever for all I knew."

"People have made that comparison to me before."

"That doesn't surprise me," she returns. Their lighthearted moment is interrupted when she gets a troubled look on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asks gently.

"Why didn't you…try anything? When we went back to your apartment that night?" he lets out an exasperated noise and before he can cut in, she continues. "For all you knew, I was a drunk girl you had…feelings for and I had just kissed you. It's not out of the question."

"Katniss—"

"Please answer the question. I answered yours."

"I'm…you're not going to like the answer," he says with a sad sigh.

"Do I usually like what you have to say?"

"No, but I'm trying not to take that personally. You never like what anyone says. Mrs. Hammond talking about her new puppy brought a scowl to your face."

"She got him at Petco! They support puppy mills. The old bat hasn't heard of a rescue?"

He laughs heartily. "God, I could listen to you yell all day."

"Peeta, please stop with the—"

"I wanted you to remember."

She waits a moment before responding. "What?"

"That's why I didn't sleep with you. I mean, aside from the fact that I would never, ever take advantage of a drunk girl. That's despicable. And aside from the fact that even drunk, you didn't really want me," she tries to cut in, but he keeps going, wondering if he'll ever be able to be completely honest with the girl without wondering if she'll run out the door and never speak to him again.

"I wanted you to remember. Katniss, I've dreamt of you for years. First it was just about what you would say if you opened your mouth. I mean, really say, when you were mad or excited or just anything other than irritated. I dreamt of what I could say to make you smile. And I wish I could say my dreams stopped at your smile, but I'm 22 and a guy and they didn't. I imagined what your hair would smell like, and how soft your skin would be if I ever got to kiss those freckles on your shoulder that you get in the summer when you wear tank tops. And—"

"Peeta—" she cuts in frantically, blushing so fiercely he briefly wonders if she could pass out from it.

"Sorry, I know I'm making you uncomfortable but I'm pretty sure even the cider donuts may not be enough to get you to ever talk to me again after this so I just have to say—maybe I could have slept with you that night, but you wouldn't have remembered and I didn't just want to…fuck you."

She's been drinking and so has he. Clearly. She should be horrified by his words, but the way he drops his eyes and says the curse on a whisper makes her chest feel light and, completely inappropriately, she feels laughter bubbling up in her chest. He looks about 15 years old sitting there, freckles standing out on his red cheeks, long eyelashes hiding his bright blue eyes as he looks down. And suddenly he looks back up at her and with all the thoughts running through her head, she struggles to think what expression she should put on her face. "You're not something I want to get out of my system, Katniss."

She opens her mouth and moves her jaw but nothing comes out. Any lightness from the previous moment has gone and she feels a dreadful twisting in her gut. It feels like he's saying goodbye. Not one he wants to say, but one that she's inadvertently forced him into. And what is she supposed to do with that? She should take it, right? This is what she had wanted all along; or at least what she wanted initially. Although, she thinks wryly, she's always been really fucking terrible at knowing what she wants.

She doesn't know when want ever made its way back into her life. It certainly wasn't there when her father died. And it wasn't there when she made it through high school with four hours of sleep a night and the scraps of food she allowed herself after filling Prim's plate. When was she ever allowed to want anything? She'd gone so long without it that it felt foreign and indulgent in her life.

And isn't that what Peeta is, an indulgence? Something she wants and could maybe allow herself to have if she wasn't so…herself. Five years ago, with his soft hands and big smile and goofy jokes and trays full of impractical, sugary sweets, he wouldn't have fit anywhere in her life. But her life seems much bigger now, like some empty room people expect her to fill with things she likes, things that make her smile. And all she had allowed herself since reaching adulthood were things that made her comfortable and there wasn't even much of that which applied.

"I'm…this is silly," she says, trying to swat at the sudden heaviness in the air between them. "It's not like you've been sitting in this town lonely for years, celibate in a tower, awaiting my return."

"You're mixing your metaphors."

"They're fairytales! I think…" she trials off. "Anyway, you have a life without me. You've had girlfriends, you have friends, you have the bakery. I don't—it makes me uncomfortable when you act like you're waiting for me to, I don't know, make you life complete or something."

"Katniss," he almost whines. He lets out a desperate laugh and buries his face in his hands. When he looks up again the expression in his eyes is one of pure defeat. "I've spent sixteen years of my life trying to get you to make eye contact with me. The girls I've dated...it wasn't impatience for you. I didn't think you were a fucking option. I haven't thought that since I was a seventeen and reciting ways to ask you to prom in my head. And I've tried to move on, I really have but I can't because I don't actually think it's possible to be in love with two people at the same time. I know you're cringing because this all sounds like flowery, romantic bullshit to you, but it's not. This is just my predicament and it has been as long as I can remember and I'm starting to think it always will be and there is nothing fucking romantic about a lost cause."

He takes a deep breath and it makes her realize she's been holding hers. "So please, if you want nothing to do with me, tell me. And if you want to be friends, I can try that too because beyond any hopes I may have, I really do care about you. But I can't promise that I'll always be able to hide the fact that you're what I've wanted since before I even knew what that meant. I'm not expecting you to complete my life or anything," he says, throwing her words back at her, "but these past few weeks with you have only proven to me that I could be happy with you. With you and my bakery and my friends and maybe a little less of that celibate-monk-in-a-castle vibe you were referring to."

Impossibly, she finds herself laughing and he joins in.

But his face falls when she tells him she has to go and that she'll speak to him soon.

She spends her night thinking about cake. Specifically about the golden cake he had made her for her twelfth birthday, the one that he had somehow known to cover in deep chocolate frosting and elaborately iced pine trees.

She wakes up and sneaks into Prim's room, ignoring the fact that her sister clearly didn't come home the night before. She's an adult, she's responsible, Katniss repeats to herself as she grabs a dress from Prim's closet that just barely fits her.

It's not exactly what she wants but it has soft orange details in the pattern, his favorite color, she thinks, a details she's somehow managed to learn in the month since she's been back.

She runs out of the house, ignoring Haymitch's groaning from the couch. She has a stop to make before she gets to the bakery.

He feels awful and, if possible, his feelings of despair and regret are actually subduing his hangover to the point of numbness, despite the shots of tequila he downed after she left last night.

He was so close. They were friends. She seemed to actually like him as a human being. Katniss, of all people, would never hang out with someone merely out of pity and certainly not someone who tended to blurt out their deepest feelings and secrets at the slightest prompting.

He's pretty sure he admitted to fantasizing about her promptly before admitting to his love for her…again, and in greater detail this time.

Fuck me.

He hears the bell above the door ding and he is frozen at the sight of her. She looks stunning and somehow not horrified to see him standing there. He wonders if hallucinations are a side effect of tequila because he's pretty sure he's having one.

"Hi," she says softly. "I was worried you wouldn't be here. You don't usually work mornings."

"Oh, yeah," he tries to work himself out of his trance, "I couldn't sleep. Or I could, but then I woke up at six o'clock dying of thirst and couldn't get back to sleep."

"It's the margaritas," she smiles.

"Yeah, probably," he breathes out.

"Well, anyway, I brought you something." He is back to the place where he can't find words to say to Katniss Everdeen so he simply holds out his hands for the large package she hands him. He unwraps it and discovers that the brown paper is hiding his painting, the one that he did years ago of the forest, her forest. He had painted it for her, thinking of her, although that could be said about more than a few of his paintings; but this was one he hadn't seen since high school.

"Where did you get this?"

"Um, it was actually still at the school. I talked to Delly and she let me rummage through some old storage rooms. They only put up current students' art in the hallways, I guess. I call bullshit. None of those brats could paint something like this." He just stares at her and her smile falters a bit but she powers through and keeps talking. "I thought you could hang it in the bakery. It's beautiful. I think it would be nice for people to see it every day. I noticed you didn't have any of your work up."

"Oh yeah," he replies shakily. "Well my mother never really let us put stuff like that up."

"Well, I know I'd come by every day just to see it. Even when you run out of cider donuts, which is often. You should really do something about that."

"Katniss, why are you doing this?"

"I thought I owed you."

His heart sinks. These are words he's been dreading from her ever since she brought up the cake. Of course she would think she owed him something.

"You really don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything. Anything I did for you I did because I wanted to. I never expected anything in return."

"I know, but really, it's purely selfish. I want to see that painting every day. Besides, I don't think people ever really stop owing each other."

He deeply, fundamentally disagrees with her on this, but he doesn't have the energy to get into a philosophical discussion while he's still trying to figure out what the hell she's doing here and why she's bothering to talk to him.

"Katniss, I don't want to think that way, especially with you. I just want to erase this list of things we apparently owe each other, apologies and explanations and stupid cakes—"

"I liked that cake!"

"Just, please feel free to wash your hands of it, Katniss. Really."

For a second she looks impossibly sad, but she brightens up immediately. Through sheer force of will probably, knowing her.

"Actually, I was thinking, now you owe me," she says.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well I found this old painting and brought it to you," she says as she moves closer to him. "So now you owe me."

"What," he gulps nervously, "what do you want?"

"Dinner would be nice, to start. Maybe we skip out on the Long Islands and the margaritas this time." He smiles shakily and as she moves even closer he grips the counter behind him with sweaty palms. "After that, I would owe you again."

"And what would that entail?" He tries to get his heart to slow down but she won't stop looking at him and she's so close he can actually smell her shampoo.

"Hunting lessons?" she asks and he laughs. "Or I could teach you all the Latin names of your plants."

"That sounds useful," he jokes and now she's pressed up against his chest and he has to look down to keep eye contact with her. He notices that her eyes have flecks of green in them and he's pretty sure this is the point where his alarm starts blaring and he falls out of bed.

"Well, maybe you could just tell me what you want," she says with a smile and she looks nervous but happy. He's watched her for years and he doesn't know if he's ever seen this smile on her before, even around Prim. He can't help but lean down.

"You want me to tell you again?" She laughs at this. "Okay," he breathes, "but only for the sake of fairness."

He leans down and captures her lips. Her arms immediately come around his shoulders and he's pretty sure Katniss Everdeen is currently standing in his bakery, stretching up on the tips of her toes so she can better reach his mouth. Pretty soon it won't be necessary because his knees feel like they're about to buckle as she slides her fingers into his hair and opens her mouth to his tongue. He wraps his arms around her, grabbing the fabric of her dress, running his hands over the smooth skin of her back, burying his fingers in the strands of her hair.

"So this is a better experiment?" he breathes against her neck. Her fingers clench in his hair and she drags his face back to hers; she is apparently incapable of keeping her lips off of his own for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Better sampling environment this time. Very positive results," she says against his lips as she lifts one of her legs and wraps it around his thigh.

Two months later, when they do this standing in their bedroom above the bakery, full of his artwork and an overabundance of deep green pillows and bedding and carelessly strewn pajamas, he thinks that maybe they can finally scrap the list and just wing it.