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The sun slants at a funny angle, through the glass wall of Sea-Tac Airport food court, I had painstakingly selected my seat at a small table right against the window, looking down at the airport ramp, because of the way the sun rays fell on it, so inviting and reinvigorating.
I'm returning home from an archery tournament in China, and the flying hours have been murder; I still have some layover time before my connecting flight to Charlotte, North Carolina. and after that, I still have to ride another hour to my home town of Seam City, in the Panem County area.
I'm exhausted, hungry, and I reek of recycled airplane air and sweat. It is not very flattering, let alone comfortable, so I'm bit cranky. It's not my fault that I came across as an uncaring bitch, when the handsome blonde man, with the twinkling blue eyes smiled at me and asked me if it was okay to seat in the empty chair opposite me. Any other day, I would've given him a curt nod, and made room for his tray and tablet, on my small space, but I had staked out this particular table, in the incredibly busy eating area, for who-knows-how-long, until it was finally freed, then I flew down on it like a hawk and parked my ass in the chair I'm currently occupying while nursing a cup of water and nibbling on a raspberry and nut cookie.
I fully intended to soak up all the sunshine I could, since it's been around 13 hours since I've been able to just sit on the sun and let it comfort me. I don't usually like people, and I don't make a habit of being friendly with strangers, but today is just its own kind of not-people-person day, so I scowled at the guy, making his too friendly smile falter a bit, but not completely fall of his too handsome face.
"I promise I'll sit here quietly and read my kindle. You won't even know I'm here." He says with the deepest, manliest voice I've ever heard. "I wouldn't have bothered you, but... There isn't anywhere else to sit down and, you did have an empty seat... Unless you're saving it for someone, then don't even..."
"Fine." I rasp out, trying not to roll my eyes. The place really is packed by now, and I actually saw him roaming around the room looking for a place. "It's fine. Just... Yeah," I hurry to grab my belongings from the top of the table so he can sit his food down, and he smiles gratefully at me.
"I'm Peeta, by the way. Peeta Mellark. Thank you for letting me eat here,"
"Mmm," it's all I utter in response, grabbing my copy of 'The Lost World', that's seen better days, and going back to were my bookmark sticks out.
I'm not sure how, but I can feel Peeta's eyes on me, and suddenly I feel a pang of embarrassment for my lack of manners. My handler, Effie would be appalled by my actions, so, without looking up from my book, I kind of mumble my name to him.
"Katniss Everdeen. Hope your food is good."
He chuckles and I lift my eyes to see what's so funny about my comment. I surreptitiously look down at his tray, and see he's got one of those clear plastic containers with a romaine lettuce salad, and a couple of tomatoes sprinkled in there.
"Thank you... Katniss," the way he says my name startles me for a moment. It's like he's caressing it with his tongue as it comes out, I've never heard anyone say it that way before, so I stare at him a second longer than I should, and watch him take a sip of his water bottle. "I also hope my very plain meal is satisfying, although I'm sure it won't. To be honest, I'm only eating this, because I'm not sure my stomach can handle anything heavier, but I'm starving,"
"Sorry," I muttered, not sure why did I even said it. I'm so socially inept at small talk, I decide I've gone as far as I can with this, so I return my gaze to my dinosaur pandemic, feeling out of sorts.
I hear the man sigh, but this time I don't look up. I hear him tear into the packaging of his salad, and soon he's eating in silence, as I read my book.
We don't talk anymore, until I hear him cleaning up after himself, and then he's standing up; I finally tear my eyes from the Raptor's massacre, and as soon as he notices my gaze on him, he smiles sweetly, it's so sincere and warm, I find myself returning the smile, before I can scowl at him.
"Well... Thank you for, your hospitality. I appreciate it. Hope you have a good trip to wherever your destination takes you," he dips his head in a nod, I can't help myself when I smile, since his voice came out with a sweet southern drawl, reminding me of home.
He sounded just like my late Daddy did, and anyone that reminds me of Daddy... well, that person becomes instantly special to me.
"Thanks. You too," I respond more eagerly than I wished, but he only smiles at me again.
Peeta picks up his book bag, shouldering it with ease. He smiles down at me once more before waving his final goodbye, and then he's gone.
I watch him walk away, until he's obscured by other passengers in the busy halls of Seattle Airport. I chastise myself harshly for the way I was leering at his ass the whole time, but, it looked that good, in those loose jeans that hang low on his hips, not completely covered by his untucked soft orange polo shirt. I can't help it if the man looks like a Greek god or something.
My watch, informs me it's almost time to head over to the gate area, so I drag myself out of my chair, heavy limbed and already dreading the next leg of my trip. It's going to be another seven hours before I'm able to walk on land again, but I guess traveling like this, comes with the territory if you practice archery professionally and are one of the best in the country; so I force myself to gather my trash, my backpack and my trusty carry-on, and march on to the first restroom I can find.
A few minutes later, I'm checking my itinerary, comparing the information printed on the piece of paper in my hands, to a TV screen, showing my departing gate was moved, two places down from the original. I'm so grateful this things aren't more complicated than simply locating a screen to see where things lay in this mazes, people like to call airports. The places tend to look like a zoo to me, specially after so many hours of travel.
I arrive to my gate, and I'm surprised to see there aren't any open chairs in the waiting area. I was hoping I could catch a nap before the flight, since I barely slept a wink on my overseas flight, but now I know that's impossible. I will have to stand for the next hour and a half, before my plane is even boarding, and call me crazy, I was just sat for thirteen hours, but damnit, I don't want to just stand for an hour!
"Katniss?"
His voice hits me like a ton of bricks. I kind of hop out of the way, startled, but I manage to land gracefully, facing him, instead of face planting on the floor in front of him.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" He says hurriedly, trying to hold me by the elbow.
"I'm okay," I say, trying to take my arm away slowly. The place were his fingers are touching the edge of my three quarter sleeves, is burning with his warmth, and I can't quite explain the sensation, only that I've never felt anything like it before. "You just, surprised me, that's all. Mmm, what are you doing here?" I ask trying to suppress the accusing edge, I know my voice will carry.
He looks sheepish when he answers, "I'm still sorry. I didn't mean anything by it, I just was..." He sighs, looking a bit flustered, "I'm in this flight. I was a little surprised myself, when I saw you standing here. Are you flying to North Carolina?"
I look at him, frowning a bit, "Yes, I am." I don't say anything more, but look around the place, hoping for an empty seat that simply doesn't exist.
Peeta seems to read my mind, because he shuffles a bit closer to me, and says quietly, "If you'd like to, we can take a couple of those chairs, right across the gate. We just have to make sure we keep a weary ear on things on this side," he poses softly, I think he might be even a bit shy about it, but I do like the idea of getting of my feet for a bit, I need to rest my calves.
I nod, "Sure. Why not?"
And then he smiles, bright and happy.
We only go a couple of feet away, and the announcements are actually loud enough we can hear them from our perch. I'm still a bit guarded, but I'm not as unfriendly anymore, so Peeta and I get to talking a bit, nothing overly personal at first, but then we start talking about our reading choices; he's reading 'The Martian' by Andy Weir. I tell him it's on my reading list, but haven't had a chance just yet, and he gushes over the cleverness of the author and his man-crush on Mark Watney.
I realize I've been smiling like an idiot this whole time, and then he says something that catches me by surprise.
"I read Jurassic Park once, but it was too gory for my sensitive nerves to brave The Lost World," he chuckles self deprecatingly, and even I have to crack a smile at that.
"I know what you mean. The book can get very rough. Crichton isn't anything if not descriptive," I laugh a little, but then I grow solemn, and tell him the real reason why I've read both books over a dozen times each, "My father loved dinosaurs. When Jurassic Park came out to theaters, he took me in a father-daughter date, and we saw it together for the first time. We saw Lost World a week before he died on a work related accident. I guess I still read the novels, and watch the movies in his memory?"
"I'm so sorry to hear. That must've been tough on your family," he says honestly.
"It was, but it was a long time ago now. I still miss him, though. Everyday."
He smiles sympathetically at me, and then says, a bit less serious, "He'd be happy to know, Pteranodons are still assholes, according to Jurassic World,"
I laugh. It's a good one. It's so good in fact, that I relax a whole lot and keep having an amiable, inane conversation with the man, opening up about myself, I tell him about my sister Prim and her nasty cat Buttercup, and how I wished I had a nanny goat growing up, but I'm fighting fatigue and try to keep my eyes peeled, but I've must've yawn at least five times already, so I excuse myself, telling him about China and my archery competition.
He seems impressed by my shooting stats, and it's so easy talking to him, I lose track of everything else.
I slowly open my eyes.
I'm disoriented for a moment. I try and remember the last thing I was doing before falling asleep, and then I realized how comfortable I am: I'm warm and cozy, and my head is resting on soft cotton. There's a delicious smell of cinnamon, and other spices, maybe dill, that calls me back to slumber, but slowly, the rest of my sense start to sharpen.
I hear the din of people talking, there's a woman's voice speaking on an intercom, and although her voice is pleasant enough, it brings consciousness back like hammer on a nail.
I straighten up rapidly, knocking something off my aching form, and then I'm completely aware of everything around me.
Startled, I look at Peeta. He's simply watching me, with a slight smile ghosting on his lips, his bright blue eyes, are soft and content even, and I realize I've been sleeping with my head nuzzling his shoulder.
"How-um- how long was I out for?" I ask him sitting up and angling my body as far away from him as possible. I look down, and see his jean jacket, the one he's been hauling around all day without wearing, is on a pool at my feet, and I realize, that's what fell from over me when I first woke up a moment ago.
"I would say it was just about ten minutes?" He responds shrugging.
"Why did you let me fall asleep on you like that?" Ask harsher than I intended, but he doesn't even flinch at my outburst.
"Well, you looked like you needed the rest, and to be completely honest, I liked watching you sleep... You don't scowl as much. Improves your looks greatly... you look even cuter when you are relaxed,"
My eyelids are so stretched out, my eyes hurt. They most look comically wide, because he tries to backpedal in vain, saying that what he meant was, that I looked tired and he just didn't have the heart to wake me, but I'm pulling up his jacket and handing it to him, and my own bags are slung around my shoulders in the blink of an eye; I can't stay here for a second more, because the longer we stand here, the more awkward I feel, until finally I just couldn't take it anymore.
"Um, look, I gotta go potty..." I cringed inwardly... 'What am I? 5?!?! Who says potty?'
"Oh, sure. Right. Uh, it was nice bumping into you again, and seating together for a bit," He says in a rush.
"Yeah, you too. Have a safe trip, alright?"
"Yeah... You too!"
"Okay. Bye, Peeta," I wave at him and practically run away from that godawful conversation. I hear him wishing me a good flight as well, but I just couldn't stand the awkwardness.
I meander listlessly through the corridors full of people coming and going, until I stop at a little souvenir store. Might I as well grab a couple of refrigerator magnets for my mother and my sister Primrose. They collect the ones I bring them any time I have a competition out of town. They used to accompany me when both Prim and I were younger, but now Prim is in med school and up her eyeballs with practices, to come with me anymore. Mother and I just get along better when we're away from each other. They still ask for magnets when I visit a new place, so I decide to bring them Seattle ones, even if I was only here for less than three hours.
When I finally make it back to my gate, they are already boarding. I stretch my neck as high up as I can, scanning around the room... I'm trying to convince myself, I wasn't hoping to catch sight of blond curls and blue eyes for a last time, but... I'm too tired to fight my own brain. I give up looking when I can't find him among the people in line.
The seating area is empty now; figures! I can't sleep here anymore, and I know sleeping in the plane is out of the question. I just can't shut out the noises of other people around me, nor the feeling of being inside a tube of tooth paste. Just thinking about it, suffocates me. I breathe in deeply, and try to control myself, because it's my turn to board now, and I need to get on with it. I gate check my carry-on, since parts of my bow are stored in it, and they won't let me carry it on the cabin, it's stupid, since it's not like I can shoot anything harmful with it, without all its parts, let alone any arrows.
A flight attendant directs me to my seat, and my heart gives a summersault as soon as my eyes register, who my seat mate for the flight is!
I don't think he's aware of me yet, since he's struggling to store his bag on the bin overhead, while pulling his kindle out of the open end. But then he turns to sit down and his blue eyes land on me, and widened in surprise. His lips form my name faintly, as if he couldn't believe it was really me, waiting for him to sidle out of the narrow seat, so I could plop down on the window chair, next to his.
This time, I'm the one smiling.
I slide past him, and feel him take a deep inhale, as I brush my arm against his very solid chest. I quickly stuff my bag under the seat in front of me, and make a conscious decision not to bring out my iPod and headphones. I do put my book in the compartment with the magazines on the seat in front, only because the book was already in my hand.
We settle down, and put our seat-belts on, ready for the long flight. I don't know why, but I feel like this time, I have to be nicer and actually act like a human being, instead of a cranky sloth.
We don't speak for a good twenty minutes, simply sharing shy smiles and looks until we've taken off, and are reaching maximum altitude. I feel my nerves swell, but I also feel excited about my company. I just hope we can manage more than a few awkward exchanges, because being stuck next to each other in this plane would be terribly lame, if we don't fix the awkwardness between us.
He beats me to the punch though, "So, I know you are an archer, you have a younger sister, your father passed away years ago, and you're a dinosaur enthusiast... Will it be okay to ask you, a couple more questions?"
I turn my eyes to his, and he's not even blinking. I swallow, and smile at him nervously, this could go any which way, I just hope my gut instinct it's not lying to me, and he's a good guy, and not a creep. I steal myself, and ask him, "Like what?"
"Mmm... Something personal. What's your favorite color?"
"Oh well... Now you've gone too far!" We both laugh, and I tell him anyways, "Green. What's yours?"
He smiles, "Soft orange. Like a sunset..."
He tells me about himself. He's a painter, and a baker, he has sleep with the windows open since he can remember, he doesn't take sugar in his tea, which makes him a bad southerner, and can't stand not double knotting his shoelaces. He was in Seattle visiting his best friend, Finnick, who's wife just had a baby, and is going back home to Merchant Town, were he runs his family's bakery with his old man, scarcely 15 minutes away from my own town.
I don't sleep anymore, at least not in the plane. I fall asleep when I place my head on the headrest of Peeta's Ford Focus, and I wake up maybe ten minutes before I need to give him directions to my mother's house, where I'm staying until tomorrow night. My head migrated back to his shoulder some time during the drive, I try to apologize, but he shushes me gently.
"Katniss, it's my pleasure. Please, don't feel bad. You were exhausted, I would be too in your place."
"Okay... fine. But, I think I owe you. For the falling asleep instead of serving you as navigator, and for being a lousy traveling buddy. You were awake for the whole seven hours from Seattle to here, and on top of that, drove us home!"
"Well, I'll consider us even, if you let me text you later..." His cheeks go tomato red, and he chuckles nervously. His eyes flit back and forth between my own eyes and the road.
"You want my number, is what you're saying?" I ask with a curl of my top lip.
He chuckles, running his big hand through his blond curls. "Yeah. I guess that's what I'm too chicken to say."
I smirk then. "Alright, but I expect to hear from you as soon as you pull into your driveway. And then I expect to hear from you tomorrow... with the address to your bakery?"
His eyes shine, and the smile he gives me is nothing but blinding. I had no idea I had in me to flirt, but I must be doing it right, because he nods eagerly, and hands me his phone so I can program my number into it.
"Is it a date?" He asks me hopefully.
"It's a date," I confirm, full of nerves and excitement at the prospect of seeing Peeta again.