When he had healed from his sickness, Petyr was quick to return to his normal demeanor. As months turned to years and he celebrated his name day several times, he discovered the flawless serenity of Catelyn. The image of love, that had in previous years never even crossed his mind, lingered every hour.

Love. He wanted it, he hungered for it. He wanted her. Yet, despite his countless efforts, she did not return the feelings. When he had attempted to kiss her in the godwood, after successfully distracting Lysa with the minnows in the creek, she rejected.

"Petyr, I love you as a brother. I will not kiss you." Catelyn pushed him away with her hand as his gray-green eyes stared into her blue ones.

"Kiss me, Petyr!" Lysa squealed behind him. Petyr sighed, annoyed with Lysa's clinging behavior.

"Fine. Only one." Petyr tried to envision Catelyn as he did so but instead felt disgusted.

He deplored the sensation, while Lysa leaned in for more. In response to her gesture, he pushed her away and looked to where Catelyn was standing only to find her gone.

Finally able to rid of Lysa, Petyr strode into the garden. It was always a tranquil location for him to think. Ensuring the Septa wasn't near or observing, he yanked two mint leaves from the plant and stuck them in his mouth. He chewed them thoughtfully until the fresh taste filled his mouth.  

"Littlefinger! Always getting into trouble, are you?"

Petyr turned towards the voice. Edmure sauntered towards him, his typically smirk planted on his face.

"What is your definition of trouble?" He questioned. He was afraid Edmure had spied him taking the mint leaves and swallowed them in haste.

"Don't take me for a fool, Littlefinger. I am a smart man. I saw what you did." Edmure was only a foot in front of him, hands behind his back.

"I would never confuse a smart man for a fool." he looked at Edmure with hate burrowing itself into his soul.

Edmure only laughed. "Just admit it! I was watching you."

"Perhaps every time I feel overwhelmed with boredom, I come to the garden and swipe one of the mint leaves..." Petyr admitted. "It cleans your palate."

Edmure scowled and grabbed Petyr's neck. "Not that. Mother wouldn't care less if her mint was suddenly barren in a week." Petyr clawed at Edmure's grip with no success. "You attempted to kiss Cat. Then you kissed Lysa. Who do you think you are, Littlefinger, trying to kiss my sisters?"

Unable to respond, Edmure threw Petyr to the ground and left without another word leaving him gasping for air.
-------------------------------------------------------
"Bloody, Starks!" He threw his dagger across the room, embedding it into the wall. Putting his face in his hands, Petyr scowled. He cursed under his breath as he stared at the floor.

Only two days before, the Tully household was in an uproar. Catelyn would be betrothed to Brandon Stark in an effort to form an alliance. Normally, a business transaction of marriage caused women to sob. Catelyn, on the other hand, was thrilled. The rest of the evening, her comments on Brandon Stark's appearance and personality were incessant.

Jealously overwhelmed Petyr and murderous thoughts drowned out everything else. He wanted to kill the Stark boy. Suppress your anger, Petyr. His father's words interjected but did little to calm him.

Brandon Stark was a man...not a boy. He was a man of 20 and Petyr was 5 years younger. There was no chance of even striking a blow on a man twice the size of him. However, no matter how hard it was and how often he remained awake during the long nights, he could not rid the violent actions out of his mind. He would have to take his chances to earn the love of Catelyn despite the costs.