This is a new story i'm trying out. There won't be that many chapters but I promise that each one will be long.
It's rated M for future scenes - but don't worry. I won't make them too explicit. Haha
Enjoy.

Playlist: Lifehouse - Between The Raindrops ft. Natasha Bedingfield

Chapter 1

Okay

Epilogue

"You're not a princess, Katniss."

I sighed in content as he kissed my collarbone. My neck. My cheek. My lips.

"Then what am I?" I managed to get out. He pressed his body against mine; I bit my lip to keep from making another strange noise. I could see the smile on his face as he kissed me from above.

"You are beautiful." He whispered. "You're perfect." I groaned as he connected our lips forcefully. "You are so, so beautiful." One of my hands snaked their way into his hair while the other pressed him closer to me. "You're a huntress." He whispered against my lips. I sighed. "And you're mine." And that was it. I wrapped both my arms around his body and held him to me, not kissing, not moving, and barely breathing. I never thought I would feel this way about someone.

"And you're mine." I whispered. "Only mine." He kissed me gently, once, twice. . .

"I love you," He whispered against my lips. And suddenly, I'm not thinking about what others will think. I don't care about what Effie will say or what punishment awaits me back home. All I can focus on is him. My baker. My lover. The boy with the blue eyes.

"I love you." I whispered as I brought our lips together once more.

Princess. That's what they call me. Panem's Princess. Never mind that our country isn't a monarchy. Ever since I can remember I've been treated like the innocent, lovely, young lady whose daddy rules the great nation of Panem. And I act the part because I couldn't disappoint my father who has worked so hard for this country. But my sister is a different story; she couldn't care less.

We don't talk.

The family dinners we have every weekend are filled with such animosity and tension that it's hard to scarf down the too-sweet food. Primrose never looks up from her food and in that rare moment when she does, she either glares at our new step-mother or at me. She never talks. She never smiles. She never makes any noise unless it's to argue or insult someone. Other than that it's easy to forget she's there.

"So, Katie, tell me how have you been?" Our stepmother asks. She asks this every night and I would always answer with fine while ignoring the silly name she's come up for me. She sometimes calls Primrose 'pim pim' but that only earns her a death glare. "What is District Four like?" She asks.

I think her name is Pricilla. She's twenty three. I used to wonder why my father married woman old enough to be my sister but now I see that it's because they look like my mother. They're always blonde, thin, blue eyed. I'm sure they know that the only reason my father married them is because of their appearance but they won't care as long as they get money and fame. And if they have to put up with two grumpy teenagers – so be it.

"Big." I answer. "Humid. Warm."

"I hear you got cozy with the handsome Odair. . . ." She trails off suggestively. "I bet the District wasn't the only thing that was big and warm."

Primrose drops her spoon and her eyes widen. My father chokes on his drink.

"Darling that is not appropriate talk. . ." Father warns. I wonder what it's like to date someone as hormonal as his teenage daughters. Must be fun.

Primrose looks up from her plate. Her stare is filled with shock, disgust, and guess who it's all aimed at?

"I'm full." Primrose stands. She wipes her hands on the napkin and throws it on her plate before walking out the dining room.

"Chef worked so hard to prepare this dinner and she just runs off!" She shakes her head in anger. "Darling, she's going to be spoiled and shallow if you don't do something! And I will not tolerate any spoiled daughters! "

"How ironic." I murmur.

"Excuse me?" Pricilla scowls – at least I think she's scowling. The Botox must prohibit her from showing emotion.

"Nothing."

0o0o0o0o0o

That night I begin to think about District Four and Finnick. I think about Johanna and Annie. I think about District 11 where Rue jumps from tree to tree and with each thought I begin to feel an aching in my chest. An aching for normal people with morals and dignity, for the people I can be myself around.

Every day I'm overwhelmingly thankful for the fact that my father sends me to one District each year for nine months. At first it was a way for me to get to know the citizens of Panem – my mother's idea then when she died he sent me there just so he wouldn't have to deal with a child who (according to Johanna) reminded him so much of his wife.

But I'm okay with it because it has stopped me from becoming someone I hate. I'm thankful I'm not shallow and inconsiderate like Pricilla. I'm thankful I'm not lonely and angry like Primrose.

So that morning when Effie comes in my room and hands me a train ticket to District Twelve, my heart leaps with joy.

"Your father thinks you and your sister are too much of a nuisance to Pricilla." Effie announced with a smile.

"I thought we weren't allowed in District twelve?" I say as the maids brought out my luggage. But I could care less.

"I assume you were an . . . exception." I don't ask anymore because Cinna chose to burst through the doors holding a black bag. I look at Effie for an explanation. Cinna is my stylist but he's rarely around. The only time he visits is when he has something special to deliver.

"Your father prepared a goodbye dinner for you. It's at five, be ready by then." Effie flipped through the pages of the notebook she always carried and wrote something quickly. "Gale will be there."

Gale.

Cinna looks anxiously at me. Gale is a wealthy twenty year old man from District two. We met a few years ago and have been inseparable ever since. Then I met Finnick in District four and things just . . . changed.

"It'll be nice to see him." I smile and shrug.

0o0o0o0o0o

It surprises me when Gale immediately comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He gently kisses my cheek.

"Catnip!" When I first met him I was shy and quiet. I whispered my name so low that he thought I had said Catnip. I've stopped trying to correct him.

"Hello." We haven't talked in two years.

"I've missed you." He whispers. "A lot."

I'm confused because last time I saw Gale he was yelling at me, calling me foul names. He said he never wanted to see me again.

I bet his mother had something to do with this.

"We have a lot to talk about you know,"

"This is my last day in the Capitol." I tell him.

"So?" he rolled his eyes. "I'll go with you. Where are you going? Seven? One? Four?" I notice that his hand clenched into a fist at the mention of Four.

"Twelve." His smile fades because he's realized that he can't follow me to District Twelve.

Twelve still has its "no Capitol citizens" law. Father has been trying to ease the tension the past few years. It's a miracle I'm allowed to go.

"President Everdeen has done a really good job uniting the country." A nervous chuckle passed his lips.

"Yes." I agree.

"Well no matter. We'll have plenty of time to talk when you come back." I didn't have time to ask what he meant because at that moment Effie ushers me to a spot on the grand table next to Primrose. She's going to District Twelve too and I think this is her first time leaving the Capitol.

"Hello, Primrose." It's an effort to get her to turn away from me. Usually, at the sound of my voice, she just scowls and ignores me but not this time. I cringe away from her hard blue eyes and expressionless face.

"I don't like you." She whispers.

"Excuse me?" Sure, I already knew that but It's an entirely different thing to hear her say it aloud. She strokes the rim of her glass and a cold smile replaces her scowl.

"Cato. . . Marco . . . Arian. . . . Finnick, Thresh, Riley, Gale. . ." Her icy blue eyes meet mine again. "One for each District."

She can't seriously think that I've been with them. Sure I had a thing for Cato and Marco once but that was years ago. And those relationships didn't move past hand holding and a few kisses here and there.

"You've got it completley wrong." But she's done listening to me. She turns away and strokes the rim of her glass.

0o0o0o0o0o

We arrive in District Twelve in a plane three hours after our departure. I avoid Primrose whenever I can. It isn't too hard. I just have to avoid walking past the room with loud music.

"What a strange, closed off girl." Effie once commented when we sat down for dinner and Primrose didn't show. "I blame the mother. Selene wasn't right in the head." Selene was father's third wife. She looked exactly like my mother and he was infatuated. He gave her everything she asked for which wasn't much. A month after their marriage she became pregnant and she killed herself the night after Primrose was born.

Our welcome to the District is simple. There are a few decorations here and there. The lamppost have been done up in bows and ribbons, there are balloons and a crowd waiting for us. The mayor is waiting to greet us, his daughter trails behind him. Effie stays for thirty minutes – the allotted time for a visiting Capitol Citizen.

I look around expecting to see sky scrapers and parks with tall green trees and squirrels and birds. It's what every other District looks like – with the exception of Four who has Palm Trees and beaches. Instead I see small shops, cozy looking houses, trees, flowers etc. There are no cars, no busy streets. No bustling cities.

Primrose seems delighted though. Her usually cold and distant look is replaced with interest.

"Are those Primrose flowers?" She asks.

The mayor's daughter, Marguerite, nodded. "We planted them just for your arrival." She turned to me. "Sorry, Katniss flowers only grow in certain environments."

I didn't realize that Katniss flowers existed.

"It's fine."

Marguerite nods. As we walk towards the car I notice that Marguerite turns to look at me from the corner of her eyes every so often. It doesn't necessarily make me uncomfortable. Her stares are curious – but not in a bad way. It's in the way a child might react to meeting a person they've only ever heard about.

"What is it?" I finally ask her.

"You look different from the magazines and pictures." Somehow her comment rubs me the wrong way.

"The people in the magazines are dressed in the latest fashion but it doesn't mean they wear that every day. Do you expect for me to wear feathered dresses and pink in my hair every day?" She blushes.

"I-I'm sorry – I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay." I reassure her. She opens the car door for me. It's the first car I've seen in District Twelve and its last year's model. I thank her. Marguerite waits for Primrose to go in next but my half-sister just shakes her head.

"Want to sit next to the window?" I ask her. Prim nods. No, she just doesn't want to sit next to me. I think. As we drive I notice there are only small, family owned businesses here. There are no brand names stores or restaurants like in every other District. Huh, strange. Then something catches my eye. It's a building bigger than the others with glass windows and a familiar logo sitting at the top.

There's a Mellark Bakery here. A Mellark Bakery in District twelve.

One of the most well-known bakeries is in a District with less than a million people. There's hundreds in each district and thousands in the capitol but I didn't know there were any here.

I love their Cheese Buns.

"I wonder if Peeta's home." Marguerite smiles as we pass. It wasn't a normal smile. It was one I've seen Annie and Cashmere do around a guy they like.

"Peeta Mellark?" I ask. The name was all too familiar. After all, I had invited that man to countless parties and dinners. Like the other citizens of District Twelve, Peeta Mellark can leave and return whenever he wishes.

"Yes, his whole family lives here."

"Do they ever leave the District?"

"Yes, he and his brother leave whenever a new store is opened." Marguerite pouted.

"The country is growing, Madge, more people want modern stores such as the Mellark Bakery." Mr. Undersee said.

"Madge?" I ask. "I thought your name was Marguerite."

"It is but everyone just calls me Madge." She blushes.

Peeta Mellark never accepts my invitations. I've seen Peeta Mellark before – in pictures of course. He's handsome. He has vivid blue eyes, pale blonde hair, a sturdy frame . . . a nice face and body. Cashmere and Clove faint at the mention of his name and Johanna wants to do unspeakable things to him. Even Finnick admitted that Peeta was handsome, but 'not as handsome as myself mind you'. He's always dressed in the latest fashion. He wears bright jackets and hats with feathers. Nothing but the best.

He's rich, wealthy. . . . Perfect really.

I'm dying to know what Peeta Mellark is really like.

0o0o0o0o0o

We are dragged through other welcoming ceremonies for the next three hours. Our first stop is the Justice Building. Primrose and I have to sign some documents, then we're off to the mayors house where a party is being held for us. At one point during the party, I manage to escape after a drunkard by the name of Haymitch Abernathy spilled his drink over me and proceeded to vomit in the same spot.

The sun has long set and the moon risen. The moon casts an eerie glow on every object in the sky and I'm surprised to see a cluster of stars when I look up. I smiled to myself. We don't see things like this at the Capitol.

"Lost, princess?"

"No." I said. "And I'm not a princess." I don't bother to turn around. It's probably just a server coming to get me.

"Everyone calls you princess."

"Are you everyone?"

"Touché." I expect him to have left because there's sudden silence around me. But when I turn around he's still there, staring.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask. "Are you not enjoying the party?"

"How could anyone expect to enjoy the party if even the guest of honor herself isn't having any fun?"

"Touché.". He looks at me then up at the sky, a smile hangs on his lips. We stand in a comfortable silence for a few minutes just staring at the stars. It's too dark to see his face but I can tell he's blonde.

"Well, I should go. It was nice to finally meet you Katniss." He stepped toward me and caught my hand in his. His hand was soft and warm against mine. He reached down to press his lips softly to my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. They're blue. Bluer than the sky and bluer than the ocean. They're captivating. He smiles, turns, and leaves, with only a wave of his hand as a goodbye.

I realize later on that night that I never asked what his name was.

0o0o0o0o

Primrose looked like she wanted to throw a vase at me. When we arrived, I let it slip that I would like to meet Peeta Mellark and since Primrose already thinks I'm some kind of man-eating whore. . .

Thankfully Mr. Undersee and his daughter had left by that time.

"What is the matter with you?" I ask when she did fling a vase at me. Thankfully it didn't break and just landed on the couch.

"I'm stuck with you!" She answers as she storms off to her bedroom and slams the door shut. I remind myself that i'll have to deal with her for nine months and that going up to her room and slapping her silly will not make those nine months more enjoyable. . . . maybe.

I didn't notice the picture frames of my mother and father when we arrived but I did notice them when I went downstairs in the middle of the night to get something to drink. I was too tired to stay awake and when I woke up in the morning, they were gone.

I'm sure I imagined them because when mother died, father destroyed all of her pictures.

But seeing them (if i did see them) reminded of how much Primrose and my mother looked alike. The resemblance was uncanny. They had the same blonde hair color, the same cold blue eyes, the same face, they moved with grace and confidence. . . Primrose is everything her mother wasn't. She's everything my father wants his wives to be.

I'm actually surprised our father sent her here with me. I think he likes Primrose best because she looks like what I should have looked like. Not only that but the people like her attitude. People like her spunk, her unpredictability. They say she's the embodiment of rebellion. She's Panem's Rebel. Panem's Princess. Panem's Rebel. Johanna used to joke that the tittles were mixed up. That Primrose was the princess, that she's the one that tries to be what the people want her to be. She acts how everyone wants her to act. She follows there orders and tries to please her people - like a Princess is. But that no one tells me to act a certain way or say a certain thing. The only reason people call me the Princess is because my father called me that when i was born. He said I was his baby girl, his little princess. And it just stuck, but if they knew about my archery lessons, my hunting trips with Thresh and Rue, my fighting lessons with Cato and Clove, they would change their mind.

At first I agreed, i even tried to talk to Primrose because I was convinced her rudeness was all an act. But it isn't.

There is no nice little girl inside of Primrose.

"I'm going to the bakery." It's an effort to be more civil towards Primrose. (And it's also an attempt to prevent breakable things being flung at my head.) She doesn't acknowledge my presence and focuses on her book. "Bye." I said.

I leave the door unlocked on my way out.

"Ah! Miss Everdeen!" It's the first thing that greets me when I close the door. It came from Haymitch Abernathy. I met him yesterday but only briefly at the party. I hear that he prefers to be surrounded by alcohol rather than people.

"Mr. Abernathy." I forced a smile. I still haven't forgotten how he spilled vodka all over my shoes.

"I see you're living at the old mansion. I can't say I'm surprised." He said. I turn back to the house behind me. That's hardly a mansion. It's just a very big house not unlike the others here on this street.

"Why is that?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, Miss Everdeen."

"Why not?"

He studied the drink in his hands for a long moment before looking back to me. "You looked much prettier on TV, sweetheart. But it's nice to see you without those ridiculous dresses."

"Thank you." I smile politely. "Goodbye, Mr. Abernathy." I turn away from the town drunkard and begin my walk into town. The decorations and banners from yesterday have been taken down leaving the streets bare. It's still pretty early so I don't expect for there to be people around but there are. There are hundreds of people walking from shop to shop, house to house. In no other District do people behave like this.

I ask a man if he direct me to the bakery and he kindly agrees to take me.

"Thank you." I tell him when we reach the bakery. He nods and waves goodbye as he continues on his way. A couple walks out of the shop holding a box with the Mellark Bakery logo on its side.

The door opens again and I can smell the fresh bread and pastries that make my mouth water. A young man sat at the counter flipping through a book, when I come in he looks up. His deep blue eyes widen and he stands up. It's the boy from last night.

"Hello, Miss. Everdeen."

"Hello." I say. "You work here?"

"Yes." He says. The cockiness from last night is gone.

"What's your name?" A smile appears on his lips.

"You don't know?" He asks. I turn my head to the side. Did he tell me his name after all?

"No. Should I?"

"Well, you have sent me enough invitations." He chuckles. Damn. Even his laugh is sexy. And, now, I know who he is.

"Peeta Mellark."

"The one and only." I walk over towards the boy who always refused my invitations to the Capitol. He doesn't look anything like in he does in his pictures. He looks normal. All of the wealthy people in the Capitol wear jewels and expensive clothes and he . . . doesn't. But I can't imagine that diamonds and District 12 go well together.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you." Now it's his turn to study me.

"Do you want anything, Miss. Everdeen?" he asks. "Cheese buns?"

"Do you make them yourself?" I dare ask. I've heard that the Mellarks have a bakery where they bake all the sweets. I used to think it was in District two – because that's what Cato told me but it would make more sense for it to be here. I can't imagine one person making hundreds of pastries a day.

"Of course I do – with the help of my family of course."

"So this really is the main Mellark Bakery." I say. "Makes sense you would build it here."

"And why is that?" Peeta asked. I set my hands on the counter and lean toward him.

"Because District 12 is very picky about whom it lets in." His eyes met mine. "No pesky Capitol girls to bother the handsome Mellark son – well, except for me."

"So, you think I'm handsome." That silly playful smirk was back.

"Of course." I blush. "And there aren't as many orders as there would be in a more populated District."

"Having fun, brother?"

I jumped. There was a young boy, not that much older than us, leaning against the back door. His eyes were the same blue as Peeta's.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the back cleaning up?" Peeta scowled.

"It's my break." He reached for a roll on one of the shelves and took a bite while looking at me. I think it was supposed to look seductive.

"No it's not."

"I'm the boss' son. I can say when my break is." Peeta looked like he was trying hard to keep from rolling his eyes. "And who might you be beautiful?"

"Katniss."

"Katniss?" The older Mellark brother eyes widen ever so slightly. "As in the Capitol's darling Princess?" I bite my tongue.

"Rye, go away." Peeta hissed.

"Fine, fine." Rye said. "I'll leave you alone with this little princess." He winked at me before walking toward the door that I assume lead to the kitchen. "But don't do anything naughty out here. You'll ruin business. Take her upstairs. Maybe we can share."

This man reminds me an awful lot of Finnick. The only difference is that Rye gets straight to the point while Finnick gives hints every now and then in order to embarrass you longer.

"Nice brother you have there."

"I know. He's the absolute best!"

"It's better than having a sister that hates you." I muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind." I quickly say. He's silent for a moment.

"Do you want anything – that is if Rye's face hasn't ruined you appetite."

"Heard that!" Rye calls from the back room.

"You were meant to!"

I laugh. "Don't worry, my appetite isn't easily ruined." I study each pastry, unsure of what they are. These are different from the ones at the Capitol. "Do you have Cheese buns?"

"Of course." He reached into the lowest part of the shelf and took out a tray of cheese buns. They were still warm. "How many?"

"Six, please." He grabbed a white box with the bakery's logo and placed six of the cheese buns into the box. He asked me if I wanted anything else. I hesitate. "I don't know. I've never seen these before."

"We have different menu's for each District and the Capitol." He says. "Would you mind if I made a recommendation?" I shake my head and gesture for him to go on. "I would go with the chocolate coconut cake. And these small cakes." He picked up a tray to show me. Various round cakes that were the size of my palm sat on the silver tray.

"I'll take two of each." I say. He nodded and reached for another box to put the cake inside. He hands me the boxes in a bag. And then I saw Prim's scowl. "Do you have any cookies or cakes a little girl might like?"

"I saw Prim eating a bunch of these at the welcoming party." He reached for a tray with flower shaped cookies.

"Perfect. I'll take those too."

"Enjoy." He smiled. I smiled back and thanked him.

I walked toward the glass door, planning on going home but my hand stopped on the door knob. I turned back to Peeta.

"You know," I start. "I'm living alone right now and it would completely suck if I didn't have anyone to share these with." Never mind there's Prim at home. She's probably just going to go straight to her room once I get there. "Do you want to come over?" Peeta's silent for a second.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Everdeen." he starts. "But I'm afraid I'm very busy today. Next time, Okay?" I smile sadly. That's always his reply.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Everdeen. Due to a previous engagement I won't be able to attend. Next time, maybe." Or 'I'm afraid I'm all too busy to attend the gala this fine evening. Next time, maybe."

"Okay. Next time."

As I'm unlocking the door to my house, I notice that Peeta didn't say 'maybe' this time.

Thank you for reading. Please Review and tell me what you think!

Btw: i recomend listening to Between The Raindrops by Lifehouse ft. Natasha Bedingfield. It's such a good song and i think it fits this story perfectly. (Wink, wink, hint, hint hint.)