I can't stop thinking about him. He. My husband. Peeta. My boy with the bread. Now a man. Even out here, in the woods. A place where Peeta doesn't usually go. A place that has belonged to me and the other important men in my life. But he is everywhere. He's in the subtle, muted oranges on the treeline as the sun rises. He's in the light dappled on leaves and on the ground. He's in the dandelions I pass in the meadow. He's in the fat pelt of squirrels I have snared today.
My husband, Peeta. It still sounds odd to say it, even though its been nine years since the toasting and what passes for marriage license from the justice hall. It's been a good nine years. Especially after everything that came before it. I still have nightmares and he still has the occasional flashback, but we take comfort in each other to banish the demons of the past. That's what I'm remembering about now as I feel surrounded by him in the forest. I'm focused on the way his arm draped over my stomach and cupped my waist early this morning. I can't stop thinking about how wonderful it feels to wake up curled up and close to him. I want to revisit that sensation.
I make my way back to town and find him in the bakery. He's bending over to retrieve fresh loaves and his face is flush from the fire. It's still warm outside, but the heat from the oven makes the bakery nearly unbearable. I'm enjoying the view as he turns to catch me staring. I close the distance between us once he sets the tray down.
"Hey" I breathe out, taking the smell of fresh bread back while I inhale.
"Hey yourself" he teases playfully. "What's for dinner?"
"Squirrel for dinner," I pause. "Me for an afternoon snack, if you can get away soon."
The shock on his face is evident. I am not usually so bold, but I have not been able to shake him from the forefront of my mind. I want to taste his kisses. I want his hands on me. I want to hear him pant my name. I want to feel him, surging within me.
We survey each other for a moment and connect eyes. I reach out to dust some flour off of his ear. Peeta is hot to the touch.
"I want to take you home. Now." I state, just in case my intentions are not clear.
He reaches for my hand that's still on the side of his face. He turns my palm up and plants kisses there. He pulls me to him and consequently coats me in flour as well.
"Maybe we should clean up first," he offers with a smile.
"I could draw us a bath," I venture.
He raises an eyebrow. "Us?"
****
Next to the woods, Katniss considers her bath a private retreat. She likes the quiet and the water calms her. It's the next best thing to swimming in the lake for her. She'll sometimes stay in the bath for over an hour. I am intrigued by her proposition and the decision to leave early for the day is an easy one. It's a short walk home to Victors Village and I am truly curious to see what she has in mind.
She starts the water and undresses without ceremony. I follow suit and remove my lower prosthetic. I ease in to the water first, while she grabs two towels. When she slides in, the water level rises to the middle of my chest. We are long past hiding our scars from one another, so she doesn't flinch when I grasp her shoulders. I knead dough most mornings, but the knots in her muscles still take time and skill to work through. Her fingernails graze up and down my thighs until she lets them fall into the water. I can see her toeing the bath toggle, to allow some water to drain so that is just barely pools over my hips. She let's out a soft sound of satisfaction and lulls her head to my chest, wedging it under my jaw. I'm actually beginning to wonder if she'll fall asleep or make good on her words from earlier when she reaches behind her back to take hold of me. I'm afraid to break the spell but we haven't spoken since we left the bakery. I've been too caught up in the determined look on her face.
"I missed you this morning." she says, breaking me from my trance and still facing away from me. It's easier for her sometimes to admit things when we're not locked in eye contact.
"Oh, well, I'll allow it" I say with a smile and start to enjoy her handiwork. She moves so suddenly next that I worry I've said the wrong thing, but she's twisting around to face me, her body curled up between my thighs. The look of determination is back as kisses land on my chest and travel south until she has taken me in her mouth, lifting my hips out of the water. She samples me in short and long licks, going down, then nibbling just the tip, and all over again. She pauses, looks at me from under her eyelashes, smiles, then is back on me again, kisses venturing north this time.
"I missed you and I want you" she affirms as she climbs up, sliding her legs outside of mine, wrapping around my waist. It's a good thing that this tub is oversized and it makes me wonder if Katniss would be up for something like this at the lake as well. I turn my attention back to her, dragging my hands down the side of her rib cage to rest on her hips. She's already angled herself to capture me without any guidance. She pushes me through, then bounces, rolls her hips, and thrashes a bit in a rhythmic pattern, spilling some water over the sides of the tub. She rides the waves as I hold her to me. I feel her entire body tense and I grip her even tighter, letting myself go in the moment too.
After her breathing calms, there is such a look of serenity about her. I need to memorize it for painting later. She has consumed me and been sated. This is my Katniss. Her. My wife. My girl on fire.