Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading.
The story takes place a little over 1 ½ years after Katniss' exile and return to District 12.
CHAPTER ONE: The Hero's Holiday
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am nineteen years old today. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. Twice. Peeta Mellark was my fellow tribute. Peeta and I kept each other alive. Peeta loves me. I fell in love with Peeta, too. I am going to marry Peeta in 1 month.
I lay in bed, running through these thoughts in my head. I try to change it around, find other simple statements to include. They all end with the same sentence. I'm going to marry Peeta in 1 month. It's been a ride of emotions the closer and closer we get to the date. We have set a date for the party. I would've loved to just sign the papers and have a few people from the District, particularly Haymitch, Greasy Sae and her granddaughter, Meena, and maybe Delly, who now works for Peeta at the bakery.
Unfortunately, because the Justice Building and pretty much everything else in town had only recently been rebuilt, there were still only a few people working there and they wouldn't have all the necessary paperwork available until after the winter season. Because of the delay, Peeta had suggested that maybe we can invite some other people, some friends we had made in the past couple of years, to the wedding. I had never really thought about inviting anyone, maybe except for the few people that were already here in District 12. Frankly, I wasn't sure I'd want anyone else to be there, and I had tried to come up with any reason at all for this to be unnecessary since I didn't think anyone would be interested coming to it anyway.
Considering how much he does for me on a daily basis, especially when it comes to calming me down during my nightmares, I relent. Besides, I doubt if anyone else will show. He already has a list of people that he plans on sending word to, including the other victors that were unlucky enough to relive the Hunger Games with us in the Quarter Quell, Beetee and Johanna Mason. There's also Annie Odair, Finnick's widow and mother of his son. We hear from her every so often through my mother. My mother, when she's not busy at the hospital in District 4, visits Annie and her son and she calls from their house sometimes to tell us about how they all are. Annie has always been somewhat mentally unstable ever since her own Hunger Games participation, but my mother tells me Annie works harder to keep her emotions in check now that she has a son to take care of.
I already told my mother about me and Peeta getting married, but I didn't ask her to come. I wouldn't expect her to. The memories of Prim are probably still fresh in her mind. I should know - Prim sometimes appears in my nightmares. When she does, Peeta knows it will take longer than normal to get me back to sleep. Also, I'm not sure how she feels about us getting married so young and so soon after all that's happened. I didn't ask her that, either.
The door opens and in walks Peeta with a tray full of some wonderfully, delicious smelling food. Only now do I notice the slow groaning of my stomach, which has actually been going on for the better part of the morning, which isn't surprising since the scent of baking bread has been permeating throughout the house for at least an hour.
"What is all this?" I ask, as I sit up and he props the tray onto my lap. There are 2 plates on it, one with eggs, ham, and potatoes, and the other plate with cheese buns and pastries. There's also a small bowl of fruit. I can barely keep myself from salivating as the aroma creeps into my nose.
"It's what I call… holiday breakfast," he says, and sits down slowly on the edge of the bed.
"But it's not a holiday, unless you count Thursday as a holiday," I say.
"Yes, Thursday is a holiday, especially when it's Thursday, May 8th," Peeta counters.
"My birthday is not a holiday," I tell him, punching him in the arm affectionately.
"Oh, that's right. It's just in my head that your birthday is a holiday. Every hero should have a holiday," he says.
I roll my eyes at him, but don't say anything else, because basically I can't stop stuffing myself with all the savory food that's been put in front of me. "Did you happen to bring anything to drink?" I ask while trying not to spit out any of the food.
"Oh yeah," Peeta says. When he comes back, the cups he's holding are giving out a small hint of steam. He hands one of the cups to me and I instantly recognize the warm brown liquid. I bring the cup to my nose to confirm my conclusion, and it is most definitely hot chocolate. In mornings like this, where the air has a bit of a chill, hot chocolate really does wonders. This is just about as good as the Capitol food we had on our first morning on the train. I only wish the food was all I remembered about that whole ordeal, but of course it isn't, and probably will never be.
"Where did you get this?" I ask.
"A crateful of chocolate arrived in the bakery yesterday, so I stole some of it," Peeta says. "Thought you wouldn't mind something sweet for your birthday." He bends down to kiss me and for some strange reason, I blush. I pretend to take in the scent of the hot chocolate again, hoping that he won't notice.
"Thank you," I say before taking a sip of the sweet, creamy liquid, and I feel its heat run down my throat, bringing whatever food is left in my mouth down with it. I blush again as my mouth gives out a groan of pleasure. Peeta just laughs and helps himself to some of my food. "I didn't even get you anything," I say.
"Well, when it's my birthday, you can get me whatever you want. Except for rats. I'm not much of a rat eater," says Peeta casually. I'm not sure if he's joking or not.
"But you can eat squirrel," I say.
"That I can," says Peeta, as he takes in another bite of one of the pastries, the one with the custard on top. For a moment, I just watch him eat while I'm sipping on my hot chocolate. I take in his facial features, which surprisingly hardly hold any burn scars, his blonde hair and blue eyes that distinguish him from a different part of District 12 than the Seam. His arms haven't lost the muscles that he gained from lifting all those flour bags. All in all, he still looks like the same Peeta I remember from before the Hunger Games, but at the same time, I see him differently. He is more than just the boy with the bread, a term I've used to describe my connection to him.
His name is Peeta Mellark. He was a wrestler in school. He gave me bread to save my life. He was my partner in the Hunger Games. He confessed his love for me in front of all of Panem. He almost died for me. He was hijacked. He was saved. He is my protector. He is my love. He is going to marry me.
I don't even realize that he's looking at me looking at him until he says something. "What are you smiling at?" he asks.
"Just thinking," I say.
"Thinking about who should get this last cheese bun?" he asks as he holds up the final bun in his hand. I try to grab the bun, but he pulls it away just in time, his eyebrows raised.
I scoot myself closer to him and lean in and over the tray of empty plates and cups, knowing that he'll meet me halfway, which he does. When he's close enough to where I can whisper to him, I say, "I was thinking about what on earth I could do to top all this."
"Well, you could marry me," he says.
"What?" I say with mock surprise. "Is that your way of proposing to the woman you love?"
He smirks. We already agreed to marry when we talked about it in the woods a few months ago, but it dawns on both of us that he actually never really asked me to marry him. I was only saying it in jest, but then he proceeds to put the bun back on the tray, gets up off the bed and positions himself in front of me before kneeling down. I don't know why, but I feel my heart start to race, as if this is a complete surprise, and I'm not sure what to do but turn to sit myself straight up on the edge of my bed. He grabs both my hands and kisses the tops of them before looking up at me, his eyes piercing into mine, holding my gaze.
"Where do I even start? I didn't think that the little girl who I heard sing so beautifully so long ago would come to be the amazing woman in front of me today. I could only wish that you would someday, somehow share in my joys, my desires, my happiness, even my sadness. I could only dream of someday being a part of your life, of being able to talk to you, to laugh with you, to hold you. And for all my wishes and dreams, none of that compares to what you've come to be to me now. I thought I was in love before, but I'm only realizing how much more love is, especially with all we've been through and when I'm holding you in my arms. I no longer have to wish or dream anymore, because here you are. Katniss, I want to start a new life with you. I want to learn from you. I want to bake for you. I want to draw for you. I want to comfort you. I want to do everything with you. I love you so much that even saying it isn't enough. Will you stay with me? Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?"
He finally lets my hands go to gently wipe the tears from my face, because I can't stop crying. As I say yes and nod, he continues to hold my face to pull me in for a long kiss. I couldn't ask for a better birthday gift.
When he finally releases me, he says "Good! Because I would hate to think that I worked on that speech all for nothing!" I laugh. Peeta really does have a way with words.