We've been living together for a while now and I've been reluctant to move much closer but in the middle of the night I wake. I'm drowsy but I know that something is out of place. He's left the bed. This happens more often than I would like to admit I have noticed but I stretch and glide out of bed seeking my boy with the bread. I find him where he always is; at the kitchen table preparing some frilly pastry or whatever. I watch him silently as I always do and try to ignore the part of me that feels jealous of these goodies which drag him from our bed in the middle of the night.
I never bother him when he sneaks away to make these treats because I'm not sure why he does it. Perhaps he's struggling with another flashback or the nightmares which he keeps from me keep him awake. I also take this time to selfishly enjoy the scene he makes shirtless under the moon with a hard look of concentration and a gentle hand. I lick my lip. Nothing sensual. My mouth is just dry, I tell myself. I wouldn't dare to cross his path in search of water. With my skills in the forest though, I'm certain I could slip past him and silently get one without him noticing. His determined focus on his desserts would aid in my stealth but I remain still in the doorframe.
Petal after petal he places the sweet paint upon the crumbling sugary canvas. My eyes follow the line of his sturdy shoulders to his strong hands. I remember how such gentle hands caressed my face in a dark gloomy cave. How those hands wrung my throat desperately within an impenetrable fortress. I miss those hands. I lean heavily against the wood of the entryway and feel the rough texture against my face. It's no substitute for those calluses of his but it grounds me none the less. I sigh quietly and imagine the taste of frosting. I hate sweets but I can't imagine hating anything made by Peeta. I walk forward and place my hands against his back.
The quick stiffening of his stature gives me pause. Perhaps I have intruded on a ritual to stave off his demons. He could turn now and snap me like a twig. I'm too close. He lets out a deep breath and relaxes with a chuckle.
"Katniss." He draws my name out in his deep voice. It's reverent as it always is but it's also weary.
Now that I know there's no danger I rest my cheek against his back and release a sigh of my own.
"Did you have a nightmare." He turns his face to give me a worried glance over his shoulder but I only shake my head softly against him. He turns to face me and I must remove myself form him. He rests one hand on my shoulder and places the other on my forehead. "Why aren't you in bed?"
I give him an annoyed look which I hope conveys the same question with a bit more malice. He shifts awkwardly on his feet for a moment and removes his hands form me to scratch the back of his head.
"I just thought I'd finish a few of these for an order placed for tomorrow." He looks back to the table then at me.
Who the hell in our district need this many pastries by tomorrow? He used to be such a great liar.
"Come on. Let's go back to sleep." He turns and walks toward the stairs but I'm still taking in the table full of cookies. I run my hand along the bag of frosting and leave it there.
He notices I'm not following him and turns around. I look at him for a moment then hold out the bag to him. It takes Peeta a moment but he returns to me obediently and takes it from me.
I glance at the flowers he has made so precisely and then stare directly into his eyes and lift my palm to him.
"Show me."
My demand draws a confused face from him but he eventually complies without a word. Slowly he designs a flower in my hand. His movements are careful, and the sheen of sweat gathers on his brow. He's nervous. I can sense his desperation to make this the most perfect creation he has ever endeavored. I wait patiently until he pulls away. It's a small thing. No bigger than an acorn but it's so very intricate. I take a short moment to admire his work before I bring it to my mouth and swallow it. I still hate sweets but it wasn't awful and I manage to maintain a blank face as he watches me with earnest attention.
He smiles and I can't help but smile back. I move to him and place a soft kiss against his lips. He seems to savor the sugar on my tongue as our moment stretches into the night. I lean back and watch him in the pale light. His eyes search me and I can tell he's worried.
I remain calm. I'm only wondering what I could possibly give to him in return for all he's done. I already know what he wants. My only struggle is my pride. I take a second and release a breath before kissing him again.
He's shocked but he doesn't complain. He closes his eyes and holds me.
What good is my pride if I can't make him happy. I make the decision then to give him everything.
There's kind of a part two but with recent developments I'm not really sure I can post it on this site anymore. If you want to read it and you know a good place to put it let me know and I'll put it out there for you guys.