The story takes place during a few months after the rebellion. Enjoy it :)

Peeta is baking in my kitchen for quite a long time. I wonder what took him so long. After the war, Peeta and I are starting to grow back together and now we're living under the same roof. Whenever I have a nightmare, he always comes to me and wraps his strong arms around me, soothing and calming me down with his words until I fall back to sleep. He is still healing from his Hijacking though, he sometimes gets his episodes and had to grip anything, especially the back of the chair until he comes back while I calm him down by putting my arms around his waist from the back to keep him company just like the way he does to me whenever the nightmares begin to haunt me every night. I don't notice that he is finished baking until he shakes my shoulder.

"Katniss, you okay?" He asks.

"Yeah," I answer as I nod. "Just lost in thought," I add.

"About what?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I couldn't wait to eat your bread," I confess.

"Well, you're not gonna regret it. 'Cuz what I baked were your favourite: cheese buns," he says as he shows the tray full of cheese buns in front of me.

The aroma of his cheese buns consumes my whole body and I lean forward to smell more of it.

But he pulls the tray away from me.

"Not so fast. Wash your hands first," he orders.

I groan and walk to the kitchen then to the sink, wash my hands in a swift and quickly return to the living room where is sitting on the couch with the tray on his lap. I walk towards him and sit next to him.

"Alright. Give them to me," I demand.

He shakes his head and moves the tray farther from me.

I get what he wants so I crawl closer to him, wrap my arms around his neck and put my lips close to his.

"Please," I whisper.

He smiles and takes one of the cheese buns into his mouth, and offers it to me. I smile and bite the end of the bread then further and further until I bite his lower lip. I lick the rest of the cheese that spread around his mouth.

"Is my cheese bun that good?" He asks, putting the tray down on the table in front of us.

I nod and hold his neck tighter.

"I'll show you something better," he says with something in his eyes. Hunger, I believe.

He puts his left hand on my waist and gently pushes me down on the couch, his right hand unties my arms from his neck and pins them above my head which is on the couch's pillow. He leans down carefully and slowly, trying not to lay his body against mine and his soft lips press against mine.

This kiss is not like any other kisses which he always hold back but this time he kisses me with some kind of enthusiasm that he can barely hold any longer, which suits me.

I manage to release my hands from his grip and explore his silky blonde hair with my fingers, pulling him to me. His kiss seems to be hungrier and I responded with the same kind of hunger. I used to repel this kind of activity which could lead to pregnancy and child birth but since the Hunger Games is already over, I don't mind of doing it now and I want Peeta to do it with me, only him and nobody else because I love him, maybe not as much as he loves me but it's better than nothing. By moving my hands from his hair, I reach down to the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it off him and threw it somewhere at the back of the couch. That's when I notice how beautiful he is; six pack abs and muscles that are gained from all the works in his family's bakery. Even his scars are gorgeous, not like mine. I explore his magnificent body with my shaking fingers.

He opens his mouth and releases a moan which is a good sign for me, I slip my tongue into his mouth and let it dance with his. His right hand goes to my head and lets it stay there, twirling my hair with his finger. I moan against his touch and this excites him too, one of his left hand's fingers pushed the hem of my shirt upwards a little, exposing my stomach and he draws circles with his thumb on it.

I stop my fingers when the reach his belt. He freezes under my touch and the hunger slowly decreases when he pushes himself away from me, panting and searching for air, I'm running out of air too so I don't ask him why he stopped. He lays his back against the couch while he reattaches his belt that I managed to unbuckle.

"What's the matter?" I ask with an obvious disappointment in my voice.

"Nothing. I'm just surprised," he responds, " that you would do that."

"Do what? Make love to you? Don't worry, Peeta. I'm ready." I say, crawling to him, ready to kiss him.

"Well, I'm not," he confesses as he stands up to find his shirt.

"Why?" Tears begin to flood my eyes.

He turns around to face me and kisses my fallen tears away. "Hey. Don't cry now," he comforts me. "I didn't say no. It's just that I'm not ready because..."

"Because?"

"First, the buns will get cold," he points to the buns with his finger, "second, I just finished baking and I need a shower. Third, I promise we'll make love soon but not tonight because I'm tired, okay?"

I nod and wipe my tears away, "Okay."

"You trust me, real or not real?" He smiles.

"With all my heart, real."

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