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peetabreadgirl · 7 years

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Love is...

Unexpected.

This here is my submission for @loveinpanem‘s celebration of our favorite OTP’s dynamic love! Thanks to my girls for looking over and making sure I don’t make a fool out of me. @xerxia31 @katnissdoesnotfollowback and @burkygirl. Rated T for everyone! Mistakes are mine.

Katniss pauses on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, smoothing down the bodice of her gray wrap dress. She was surprised when her friend messaged her the name of the place where she’d be meeting her mystery date - Terrilli’s - a popular Italian place in the city. She’d been wanting to eat here for a while, but the wait list and the price range had kept her away. There must have been a last minute cancellation, or he’s really good at sweet talk if he was able to get a reservation at one of the most desirable restaurants in the city on such short notice. And on Valentine’s night, no less.

She checks her reflection in the windows as she walks by for any stray hairs that may have come loose from her braid after her high-heeled sprint through the subway. She still can’t believe she agreed to such a cliche - a blind date on the most romantic night of the year - but her two perky, blonde roommates had made such a big deal about their own plans for the holiday that insecurity had crept in and cozied up to her feelings of loneliness, stirring a force she couldn’t easily overcome. So when her coworker, Johanna, offered to set her up with a cousin who was in town for the week, she hastily agreed. It was better than sitting home alone, waiting for Bubbly and Bubblier to come home and gush about their oh-so-amazing evenings.

And if it turns out she has nothing in common with her date, which is a more than likely outcome for Katniss since he’s not local, she’ll never have to see him again. Free dinner, no strings, her own story to embellish when the tales her roommates share cross over into TMI. Which they always do with those two.

After tucking a few hairs behind her ear, her eyes see past her own reflection to a blond man sitting at a table alone, perusing a menu, a glass of deep, red wine sitting in front of him. A quick scan of the other tables shows they’re filled with couples, so he must be waiting for her. She’s at least fifteen minutes late, so she can’t fault him for starting without her. She’s lucky he hasn’t left yet.

Katniss lets her eyes linger on his easy features. He’s handsome. Well-dressed in gray slacks and a black button down, shiny black oxfords on his feet. She can tell by the cut of his jaw and the slope of his nose he’s got those all-American good looks. The pout of his lips adds to the allure, and she briefly wonders if she’ll get to kiss them tonight.

That’s definitely not where she saw this night going. She’s not prepared for the lone butterfly that takes flight in her belly. It could wake all the others, creating a force bigger than what drove her to this date in the first place.

On shaky legs, probably from the black patent heels she never wears, Katniss enters the restaurant, by-passing the hostess and heading straight for their table. She’s late enough as it is.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she apologizes earnestly, a little breathless as she extends her hand. “I’m Katniss.” He looks up at her, the surprise clearly evident in the most beguiling blue eyes she’s had the pleasure of staring into. She feels the second butterfly join the first. Then, his hand slides hesitantly against hers. All she registers is softness and warmth, and a third flutter is added to the mix of what’s happening inside her.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Peeta.” He cocks his head to the side curiously, and, though his eyes don’t venture below her neck, his perusal of her wakes the entire butterfly colony.

She takes a seat, and tries to ignore the way his eyes stay on her, wide and a little perplexed. Maybe she didn’t take enough time fixing herself up after her jog and she looks more unkempt than she could tell in the dull reflection of the windows outside. She picks up her menu and opens it. Mainly for her own distraction because she’s suddenly not hungry. At least not for lasagna.

“I’ve never been here before. Do you know what’s good?” It takes effort to get the words past her dry throat.

“Um-”

A waiter appears suddenly, cutting off Peeta’s response, which is good because his voice is hot enough to melt the small dish of butter sitting next to the bread between them. “Would you like a glass of wine, Miss?”

Katniss takes a peek at her date’s glass. “I’ll have what he’s having,” she says with a panicked smile she can feel to her toes. She’s so out of her comfort zone, and she probably wouldn’t be able to pronounce the name of a fancy wine anyway. Her tongue feels like sandpaper.

The waiter nods and leaves, and Katniss returns her attention to the menu, still unable to look straight into Peeta’s gaze without getting trapped there. She has no idea how she made it out the first time and she’ll need to gain some confidence before she can dive back in.

“The Italian cream cake looks good,” she says, trying to fill the awkward silence. She’s not sure why she’s looking at the dessert menu. Maybe subconsciously she wants to skip dinner?

“It does, yeah,” he clears his throat and from beneath her eyelashes Katniss can see him take a drink of his wine. Is he as nervous as she is? She hopes so.

“So, um, Katniss?” He says her name like a question, as though he didn’t quite get it the first time, which seems off because surely Johanna told him her name. But maybe not, since Katniss didn’t know his name before tonight either. Strangely, that piece of information was lost in their communication. In the very few messages that had been sent with Johanna as go between - Katniss didn’t want a stranger to have her number if meeting him turned out to be an awful idea - to coordinate this get together, she hadn’t thought to ask for a name. And Johanna hadn’t thought to give it.

“Yes?” she answers, risking a quick peek at him. His elbows are on the table, hands steepled together, chin resting against them. Bright blue eyes stare back into hers, and his ashy, blond hair falls in waves over his forehead. It’s a little shaggy, but he’s still insanely attractive.

“Tell me about yourself.” The question is so broad, Katniss doesn’t know where to start. And the interested way he’s eyeing her isn’t helping settle the swarm.

“Oh, I, um, well, I’m single. Obviously.” Way to go, idiot. Of course he knows that, and she can feel the tinge of pink in her cheeks. He smiles and his eyes light up, easing her enough to go on. “I’m a medical transcriber, which sounds pretty boring, but I get to work from home in my pajamas, so…” She almost chokes on her own stupidity. Where is that waiter with her wine?

“It doesn’t sound boring at all,” he says through a chuckle. He must be throwing her a lifeline. She’s not even five minutes in and the evening is already going downhill.

Katniss gives him a tight smile before waving him off. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. I rarely talk about my job because my friends zone out within seconds.”

He taps the stem of his wine glass casually. “I’m actually a pediatrician, so it’s not boring to me at all.” Katniss perks up at this information.

“Really? You look so young.” She immediately chastises herself for such saying such a stupid thing. “I mean, obviously, you’re not old - not that all doctors are old - you just took me by surprise is all.” She pauses, feeling as though she needs to say something witty to counteract all the ignorance that just fell out of her mouth. “I mean, if my pediatrician had looked like you, I would have never grown up!” She couldn’t stop the words from coming out. They’d appeared in her head, sounding smart and even a little flirty, at the same time her filter and common sense forgot to mention they were going on a break.

The corners of his lips quirk and his eyes sparkle in the midst of her dismay. Her cheeks are in full bloom now.

Her phone rings inside her purse and she thanks the stars above for the momentary interruption. She needs a minute to gather her wits, if that’s even possible.

She digs the phone out quickly, Johanna’s name flashing across the screen. “I just need to check this,” she says, pointing at the device. She feels like thanking her friend for introducing her to a gorgeous doctor, then in the same sentence, scolding her friend for introducing her to a gorgeous doctor. She couldn’t be any worse at dating if she tried.

“Hello?” she answers in a hushed tone.

“Katniss? Where are you? Gale called and said you’re a no show.”

“Who’s Gale?” Katniss asks, thoroughly confused.

“Duh, my cousin? The guy you said you’d meet for dinner tonight?”

Katniss’s eyes widen in disbelief, dashing up to meet the curious one’s of the guy sitting across from her, who is apparently not her date, and her heart vaults up into her throat. The soft butterflies that had been drifting around in her belly suddenly morph into a hive of angry hornets. “Are you sure his name isn’t Peeta?” she whispers hopefully, even though she knows he can hear her.

“No, it’s Gale. And he’s at Teril’s Bar and Grill thinking he’s been stood up. Now are you on your way or not?”

Teril’s. Mortification clamps down on her like a pack of leeches. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m on my way. Be there in a few.” She ends the call, and it suddenly dawns on her, the severity of her mistake. “Oh my goodness!” she cries, slapping her hand on her forehead. “You were waiting for someone! And I just sat down, and, and - you’re not him. And I’m not even in the right place…” Her chest is tight. Her arms are tingling. Her breath is short, mind racing. Is this what a heart attack feels like? She’s too young to die!

Peeta grins, but this time his eyes don’t light up. “It’s fine, Katniss. Don’t worry about it. I was eating alone anyway.” Eating alone? But, why? Not that she has any right to ask him that question now that she’s intruded on his evening in the worst possible way. They weren’t even supposed to meet, and the thought washed over Katniss like a bucket of cold water. Though they’d only had ten minutes of awkward smiles and terribly embarrassing (on her part) conversation, she couldn’t imagine not knowing him.

“I’m really so, so very sorry,” she repeats as she begins to gather her things clumsily. Her phone slides from her hands onto the fancy carpet, and when she leans down to retrieve it, she bumps her head against the table, softly uttering a curse word. She needs to get out of there before she embarrasses herself even more.

She digs out a twenty dollar bill and places it on the table. “For the wine.”

“It’s not that much-” he starts to push the bill back to her but she stops him by placing her hand on his. At the touch, his gaze connects with hers so intensely she can feel the hornets calming, turning back into the sweet quivers from before. Good Lord, how is she going to walk out of this restaurant and never see him again? “Let me pay for yours, too. It’s the least I can do for ruining your evening.”

His eyes settle on every part of her face, searching, and she can feel the soft caress they leave behind. It’s like nothing she’s ever experienced before. His lips tighten into a thin line, and Katniss thinks how unfortunate it is to tuck them away like that.

“It was nice to meet you, Peeta,” she says before pulling her hand away and turning for the door.

“Katniss, wait!” From behind her comes his smooth as butter voice, the perfect end to a Valentine’s night if it had gone on hours longer. Or any night of the year for that matter. Ironically, it cuts through her more like a butter knife.

She turns, only a few feet from the table as he stands and tosses the neatly folded napkin onto the table. He has a stocky, medium build that’s quite attractive. She’s trying to afford him the same courtesy he gave to her earlier when they first met, and keep her eyes above his neck, but his broad shoulders and tapered waist are begging to be noticed. “Can I have your, uh, number?” Her eyes snap to his.

“My number?” Katniss echoes his question back to him, oblivious to the startled look on her face. She’s surprised after her display that he’d want it at all.

It’s his turn to look embarrassed, and he does a charming job of it. Can he be any more perfect? “I, uh, might be needing a transcriber in the near future,” he explains.

“Oh.” Now she understands. It’s not like she didn’t already know she was out of his league, but she didn’t expect the reality of it to crush her like it does. She pulls out a sliver case and pops it open, removing a slim rectangle of paper. “Here’s my business card.” She avoids brushing his fingers when he takes it, already familiar with what just a touch from him can incite.

“Is this your cell?” he asks, looking up at her through blond lashes so long Katniss wonders how they don’t tangle.

“Um, yeah, it’s the only number I have.” He nods and brushes the card absently across his fingers. “Well, okay, sorry again,” she tells him, trying to move past the awkwardness of their long pause.

“Don’t be sorry. It was… unexpected, but I’m glad it happened,” he offers her a smile, both genuine and sweet, leaving no doubt that his next words are the truth. “It was really nice to meet you, Katniss.”

She watches for a moment as he settles back at his table, motioning for the waiter, then forces her eyes away and her feet to carry her into the cold evening, bound for the much less romantic Bar and Grill, wondering about the chances of garnering fate twice in one night.

The sun streams in through Katniss’s blinds, letting her know she missed her alarm. It’s not a big deal, though. She wasn’t lying when she told Peeta she works most days in her pajamas. Between her lateness leaving her apartment and the mixed up meeting with Peeta, she ended up being over an hour late to meet Gale. Which meant she’d returned home much later than she’d anticipated. Thankfully, her roommates were still out and she could shake off the disappointment she felt and crash in her bed. She was asleep well before they came home.

Rolling out of bed, her thoughts drift to Gale. He’d asked to see her again tonight, but she has yet to give him an answer. He’s handsome for sure, but in a completely opposite way than Peeta. He’s taller and less broad, but still fit looking, with cautious silver eyes, where Peeta’s are more open and honest, like a crystal sea of blue you could see straight through. Gale had also seemed a little peeved at having to wait around for her, whereas Peeta had been laid back, even accommodating, about a complete stranger disturbing his peaceful dinner for one. That still perplexes her. He’d pushed her money away and made her feel like he’d been truly grateful for her company.

Katniss checks her phone, noting that it’s dead. No wonder she didn’t hear the alarm. She plugs it in and heads for the shower. When she returns, wrapped in a towel and still not fully awake, she’s surprised to see a message from an unfamiliar number.

Gale doesn’t have her cell. Since Katniss wasn’t as into him as he seemed to be into her - something that might have escaped her if it hadn’t been for her little meet up with Peeta - she’d elected to let him know if she would meet up with him again through Johanna. She flicks the message open and her pulse skips ahead when she sees his name.

P: Hi, Katniss. It’s Peeta. We met at Terrilli’s last night.

An involuntary smile splits her face. As if she could forget meeting him.

P: I hope the rest of your evening was pleasant. I wonder if I could send some transcription work your way?

She reads the message a few times, wondering if she should respond to all of it, or just the request to send work. What would she even say? The truth would be that it was pleasant enough, but it would have been better if she hadn’t answered Johanna’s call. Then she would have been none the wiser and stayed with Peeta the rest of the night. That is, until Peeta told her he wasn’t her date, which brought up a question that had been on her mind since leaving the restaurant the night before. Why didn’t he say something?

K: Sure! My email is [email protected]. I can get it done today.

She really couldn’t, but she’d move it to the top of the pile for Dr. Adorable.

P: Wow, that would be amazing. I knew something good happened to me last night.

Is he flirting? Katniss isn’t well-versed enough to know, and last night’s conversation is evidence of that. She cringes at the few things she said, and it makes her think it’s unlikely that he is.

She decides to skip trying to flirt back, since it would inevitably lead to a string of text bloopers embarrassing enough to be posted to facebook as a meme titled Flirting Dont’s or What Not to Text to a Hot Doctor. Or anyone for that matter.

Her phone pings with a new email, and she checks it to find a file from [email protected]. His work email. There’s little doubt now that it’s a purely professional relationship, so her next question, while direct, shouldn’t put him off. But it’s been sitting at the forefront of her mind for hours, making her unable to think of much else.

K: You don’t have to answer this, but I’ve been curious - Why didn’t you say something when I sat down at your table last night?

Moments that feel like hours tick by before she receives a reply. She watches the response bubble pop up and then disappear at least five times before the message comes through.

P: Honestly? I thought you were beautiful and intriguing and I didn’t want you to leave. So I didn’t say anything.

He thinks she’s beautiful? Her stomach flutters to life with the same butterflies she felt last night when she saw him, a sensation that she can only equate to an unfamiliar kind of happiness mixed with a delicious fear of the unknown. And while it’s flattering and her cheeks are turning pink in the solitude of her room, she doesn’t know how to respond. She’s not good with compliments. Thankfully, another message follows the last one.

P: And I understand completely if you’re angry with me. I should have been forthcoming that I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I just couldn’t let you leave without knowing something about you. Please accept my apology.

He’s apologizing. The words are so genuine she melts into a puddle.

K: Please don’t apologize.

Her fingers hover over the keys as she thinks about telling him the truth. He gave her an honest answer about why he hadn’t mentioned her mistake. Can she be as honest with him when he hasn’t even asked the question she has the answer to? He may never ask it, though, and that’s what makes her type it out.

I wish I could have stayed. I really didn’t get to know much about you. Other than you’re a young doctor.

It’s too obvious if she says handsome, young doctor, right? Probably. Should she use a winky face emoji? It feels like it could be casual enough. But what if he’s just being nice? She might as well come out and tell him he’s gorgeous. Of course, she sort of did that on their non-date. Throwing caution to the wind, she adds the wink and sends the message. Her heart is in her throat and those same butterflies are banging against her rib cage, attempting a riotous escape.

She can’t wait for his reply. It’s too nerve wracking, so she sets the phone down, braids her hair, and dresses in record time. She stares at the phone from across the room. The screen is dark. If she hits the home button and nothing is there, the hope inflating her chest might burst.

He probably didn’t reply at all and she decides to ignore the phone a little longer and goes to make coffee.

Stepping away from her phone is so worth it because when she comes back with a steaming mug of coffee, she opens the screen to 3 messages and one picture from Peeta. The smile actually hurts her face and she almost drops her phone trying to get the damn thing open.

P: Funny you should say that.

P: I ordered the Italian cream cake after you left. It was delicious, just like you thought.

The third message is the snapshot of said cake with its dreamy, frosting-covered, triple layers that look so decadent her teeth are aching from ghost cavities. It’s almost too beautiful to eat. Almost.

P: I was kind of hoping you might want to share this one with me tonight? That is, if you don’t have any more blind dates lined up. ;)

He winky face emoji’d her back! She can’t believe he wants to see her again. It feels like one of those ‘pinch yourself’ moments, so she does and it stings like a bitch, but the pain is worth it. So worth it.

For her reply, she decides to be playfully evasive.

K: I have no more blind dates lined up.

P: Is that a yes?

K: It’s a yes. ;)

Maybe she can do this flirting thing after all.

Quickly, as though if she doesn’t do it now then Peeta’s offer will go away, she pulls up the thread with Johanna’s name on it and sends a message asking her to please let Gale know she won’t be able to meet up tonight. Not that she wanted to anyway. She just needed to think of a good reason to turn him down.

J: Any reason I should give him?

Not any reason she wants him to know.

K: Just apologize for me and tell him something came up.

J: Sounds like you’re blowing him off, Everdeen. What is it?

She wants to reply ‘nothing’, but the way her stomach is dipping and soaring like it’s a butterfly flying for the first time tells her it’s definitely something. She won’t be able to keep it a secret for long, though. Johanna is persistent when she wants information. But for now, vague truth seems to be best until she can at least figure out what’s happening.

K: I’ll tell you all about it later, but let’s just say it’s something very… unexpected.

#happy heart day yall #eat lots of chocolate #and cake #and smell those roses for me!#unexpected #peetabreadgirl

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