peeta x y/n

fresh bread and cigarettes

you're walking down the road, past all the bakery's, the smell of fresh bread attacks your face. you start to get hungry but you wave it off, you're on a mission to find a new dress for your sisters birthday.
as you're walking you see a boy in the distance coming towards you at full speed, you didn't get to register his soft blonde locks and his sharp square face before he stumbles into you, mumbling profanities.
"fuck, you're in my way" almost in a whisper as he runs past you.
something about this turned you on but maybe it was the sparkle in his eye or his big hands wrapping around your arm as he moved you. why was he running? what from?
you didn't even get a chance to guess as you see another person running towards you almost at an even faster pace, this time it was a woman not much older than 40. she's screaming at the boy telling him to get back, you assume it is his mother. you smirk to yourself and mumble under your breath "i always did have a type for bad boys".

you walk into the market when you see this lovely black dress you've always wanted. you're mesmerised by the way the lace is wrapped around the torso and how the sleeves are poofy.
it's perfect, you think.
"how much is the black dress? it's been my dream to own something as beautiful as this" you beam at the woman sitting behind the stall.
she looks at you, and then at the dress, she sees the sparkle in your eye and the smile you've plastered onto your face. even you didn't know something could make you this happy, you haven't smiled in weeks.
"keep it" she beams back at you.

as you're walking back home, ecstatic with the dress you were just gifted, you see the boy again. this time he's sitting on the wooden steps in front of the church.
"you didn't strike me as the religious type" you say, catching him off guard.
"what?"
"you ran into me earlier cursing every name under the sun" you reply. he isn't amused and puts his head down again.
"go away, okay? i just want to be left alone"
he isn't getting away from me that easy
"what were you running from, or more importantly, who? i saw a lady chasing after you"
he lifts his head begrudgingly and rolls his eyes "yeah that was my mother, any more questions or are you going to leave me alone now?"
"no i have more questions"
he rolls his eyes but you aren't letting him get away that easy.
"why are you outside of a church on a random tuesday and why were you running from your mother"
"you really don't know how to listen do you?"
his eyes shot you with a look of disgust, but you couldn't look away from those beautiful, mysterious, eluding-
"umm hello miss?" he waves his hand in your face as you're brought back to reality. "i asked what's in the bag".
you jump toward him, hiding your embarrassment, and open up the bag excitedly.
"it's this dress i've been wanting since forever, it's got lace on the torso and poofy slee-"
"poofy?" he smirks, "what kind of adult says poofy?" your cheeks go red as you stuff the dress back in the bag, "the dress isn't that nice, it's just boring and black" he scoffs.
you feel hot anger bubbling to the surface as you turn around and start to walk away. a force stops you. as you turn around, the boys hand is gripping your wrist, "i didn't say you could leave, did i? mummy never taught you to listen?".
he was right, where were you going? so you turn around, shake his hand off of your wrist and place it in front of him, "i'm y/n, and it has not been nice to meet you, but i hope we meet again mr..."
"mellark, peeta mellark" he slaps your hand away and reaches his hand inside his pocket. a packet of cigarettes and matches. "you want one?" he asks, putting a cigarette to his lips and striking the match. you've never had a cigarette before but you don't want him to think you're weaker than what you are, so you agree and sit next to him. he smells of cigarettes and fresh bread, strange but you like it. as he hands you his lit cigarette, you press it between your lips, draw in the smoke, and exhale. you've never smoked before but your dad taught you when you were 6, you never forgot because you liked the way the smoke ran through your dads mouth down his throat and then out his mouth, in one swift motion. you notice the smoke dancing around peetas lips, and for a second you felt jealous. maybe it was the nicotine in your blood but you had zoned out again and peeta was waving his hand in front of your face again.
"so you don't listen, zone out, answer back, what did your parents teach you?"
without hesitation you reply "my mother taught me that if a man hits you it's always your fault, and my dad taught me how to smoke".
your reply came out almost naturally and when you saw the look on peetas face, you quickly stood up and brushed off the ashes. "well i should be going now, see you peeta" and before he could reply you were out of sight.
part of you hopes to never see him again after that, another part wants to run back and look at his eyes, even for a few more seconds. there was something about peeta mellark that drew him to you... but why peeta mellark...