Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. Never have, never will
A/N: Just some random ideas that popped in my head.
So this particular chapter would be part of the 'those we have forgotten' section. I realize that it wouldn't really fit into the story, but whatever. It's just some K/P ness if you could even call it that.
Tomorrow is my mother's birthday. My dad has taken Prim and I into town to buy her a present. Usually, we make gifts for each other to avoid wasting money, but my father has been saving so we could buy something small.
Prim darts from store to store, oohing and ahhing at the sparkly and colorful things in the window displays, things we could never afford because we live in the Seam. As we walk, people we pass stop to chat with my father, commenting on simple things such as the weather or how tall Prim and I have got.
"Katniss," My little sister whispers, tugging at my sleeve as my father finishes talking with another miner, "Come look."
She drags me over to the window display of the town's bakery. Prim stands on her tip toes, pressing her hands and nose against the glass to look inside at the decorated cakes.
"They're so pretty," She breathes, fogging up the cold glass.
And she's right. The colors are bright and swirl from cake to cake in a pleasing way. But you can tell they were done in haste, without attention to the small details.
"Dad," Prim calls out, drawing my attention away from the bakery window. "Look at these."
"They're lovely," My father says, glancing at the decorated cakes.
"We should get one," Prim says, "For mother."
Our dad leans in closer, squinting to see the prices that are set on little cards next to each cake. "They're a little much, Prim."
She frowns and presses her nose against the glass again.
I inhale deeply and the scent of flour and baking bread fill my nostrils. "It smells so good," I say, "The bread."
"It tastes amazing, too," My dad replies, then adds, "Or so I've heard. Hey, how about we get a loaf for mom? How does that sound, Prim?"
She rocks back on her heals, thinking it over.
"Yeah, I guess," She says, trying her best to hide her disappointment.
"Then, come on," My father says turning to the door.
Prim shoots a fleeting glance to the cakes before following our dad and I into the shop.
A small bell rings as we enter the shop. The delicious smell is even stronger inside the store. A blonde haired boy stands behind the counter, kneading dough at a table. His head shoots up as we enter, and his blue eyes meet with mine. I know him, not personally, but I've seen him at school, always in a group with the other town kids in our grade.
He blinks then looks away, pink rising in his cheeks.
"I'll be right back," He says before disappearing through a door.
I can feel a pair of eyes on me and turn to find my dad watching me, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What?" I demand.
"Nothing," He says, shaking his head, but still smiling.
I open my mouth to complain, but a woman walks into the room, dusting her flour covered hands on a rag. She asks my dad how she can help him.
I find myself staring at the loaves of bread that fill the counter in front of me. I had never known that there were so many different types of breads. Small, large, light, and dark ones fill the shelves.
Suddenly, I realize Prim missing. I scan the room just in time to see her vanish into a back hallway.
"Prim," I hiss, sprinting after her.
I run into the hall, and see her standing in front of an open door, the light from it pouring out to the dark hallway.
"Prim," I call, but she doesn't hear and walks into the room.
I race to the room. "Prim," I say again, but stop outside, in the door frame.
The boy from the front sits at a table, icing a small cake with multi-colored frosting. He looks up as I speak, noticing me in the door and Prim, who is slowly inching closer to the table.
"Did you do the ones out front?" Prim asks, sitting in an empty chair across the table. I walk into the room, getting a better look at the tiny, round cake.
He shakes his head. "No, my mother decorated those," He replies, "I'm just practicing."
Prim sits up in the chair, studying the cake in front of the boy. "Well, you should be the one who makes them," She decides, "This one's prettier."
He looks down at the cake and begins layering the frosting again. "Thank you."
My dad pokes his head around the door. "Come on, girls. Time to go home."
Prim bounces off the chair and out of the room. I follow her out, slower though. But before I leave, I grab the door frame and turn back.
"She's right," I say to him, "Yours is better."
He smiles. "Thanks."
I wave goodbye before heading after my family.
Leave me a thought?
Effie or maybe Madge will be next. And if you have any requests, anything at all you'd like to see, let me know.