Puppet Strings

Chapter One

Chapter One

The store was small. Literally tiny. And because of its popularity, you couldn't move an inch without either bumping into a person or a rack of clothes. It was no secret that the place also sold a variety of legal highs, and even if you didn't know this, it became apparent from the glass cabinet behind the till that exhibited an array of fancy bongs. But Madge loved the place and if she was happy, so was Peeta.

Madge had always been a grunge girl so places like this were her heaven. If she could drive, she'd probably stay there 24/7 but she had yet to earn the money to buy the insurance and the lessons. So every Saturday she took the bus into the city to go to this store. And then, one day, she took Peeta.

He was only in the store for five minutes when the inside of his nose began to burn with every breath he took. He wondered if anyone actually lit up the drugs they bought and if so whether he was actually inhaling second hand smoke or whether the feeling of an imminent nosebleed was just a natural reaction. Madge was lost in a sea of punk dresses, already having introduced herself to an attracted shop help man.

Great Madge, thanks for sticking with me.

This place was well outside Peeta's comfort zone. He felt like he was breathing in tons of second hand smoke and if he met eyes with anyone, their expressions were dark and completely unwelcoming. Peeta couldn't even decipher the difference between customer and staff. They just sort of melted into one trippy mass of people.

Peeta finally found a small corner that he could tolerate beside a glass cabinet containing many different stones. Some were glass, others looked like authentic stone. Some were glittery, others were luminous, some were metal. Peeta wondered what one would do with a stone like that. Keep it as a trinket? It had no other use. While he ran his finger along the glass, he listened in on the buzz of conversation that filled the store's four walls. A voice stood out against the rest, admist Madge's distant faux laughter and the discreet mumblings of the various other customers. It was the voice of one of the cashiers. The voice was warm, welcoming any and every customer with a 'dude' for a guy and a 'honey' for a girl. Peeta couldn't see the voice's owner as there were too many people between him and them.

Focusing his attention to the stones, his attention was immediately captured by a gorgeous orange stone. At the top, it was white but the further down your eyes went, it proceeded to turn faintly orange, to a lighter shade, all the way down to the bottom where it was deep orange. It was almost like the sky at sunset. Peeta wondered how much something so intricate and magnificent would cost. The crinkled £10 note in his pocket would hardly buy a speck of dust from it. Still, it wouldn't do any harm to ask.

When Peeta approached the counter, the crowd had dispersed a little. He was able to make his way all the way to the till without having to pause.

He was caught off guard. The cashier was hot. Like properly, properly hot. Peeta almost couldn't find the right words to speak, especially when the guy focused his attention-and his dazzling green eyes-right on him. The cashier smirked, this painfully sexy lop sided grin, and said, "Hello gorgeous, how can I help you?"

Gorgeous?! Him?! Peeta swallowed the lump in his throat and asked, "That orange stone, how much is it?"

The man leaned forward to get a look at said stone and Peeta's breath caught in his throat at how close their faces were in that moment. It was ridiculous and Peeta scolded himself for acting so strange. "The orange one that looks like a sunset?" he asked.

"Yeah, that one."

"£5.99."

What? Peeta stared at the cashier, waiting for the punchline. "You're serious?!" he exclaimed incredulously.