The Breakfast Game
Opening my eyes, my head on my pillow I see that Peeta's already out of bed. I lay there, and look up to the ceiling. I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I've decided that today is the day that I'm going to tell him. I'll tell him at breakfast. I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen.
When I walk into the kitchen I am greeted by the delicious aroma of fresh pancakes. Peeta is standing by the stove still in his pajama pants and sleeping shirt, shifting the pan back and forth over the flame.
"Good Morning." I say cheerily and go over to him, wrapping my arms around him from behind and planting a kiss on the back of his shoulder.
"Hey," he says with a note of sleepiness in his tone, "I just need to make two more. Do you want to go ahead and set the table?"
"Sure." I let him go and set the table with two plates, some forks and knives and two glasses of milk. I make a short trip to the pantry to retrieve the syrup. Glancing over at Peeta, I see he still is working on the last pancake, so I take a moment to run outside and pluck a few flowers from the yard. I place the few wildflowers, including even a few dandelions, into a small vase and the table setting is complete.
Peeta joins me at the table a moment later and stacks our plates up with three pancakes each. "Thank you, Hon'." I say, with a grin.
"You're welcome." He replies simply, with a tired smile. He sits in his chair and slowly starts to eat his breakfast. A few bites in, he puts his elbow on the table and rests his head on his fist, eating sleepily.
"Poor Peeta," I think to myself, "He seems exhausted." He pokes at his food again, and shifts in his chair. His foot under the table bumps mine for a moment as he adjusts himself. I smirk as I get an idea to wake him up a little before I tell him.
I wait to implement my plan for a couple of minutes, just enjoying the pancakes. Even being half-asleep doesn't hinder his incredible cooking skills. They are perfect as always, delicious, buttery, and so fluffy that they practically melt in my mouth with each bite. And the maple syrup adds the perfect rich sweetness.
I've got about a pancake and a half left on my plate and I watch as Peeta slows down eating his pancakes even more and decide to go ahead and try my plan out now. I look down with interest at my plate as my foot slides across the floor under the table to find his. I glance up to see if he noticed, but he just continues to eat his breakfast.
I take another bite of pancake and lift my foot, dragging it lightly to rest on top of his. Taking a sip of milk; my gaze flicks up to Peeta again. His head bobs forward a bit and his eyes are full of drowsiness. I smirk quietly, and cross my legs under the table. I slide my foot up his shin shifting the fabric of his pajama pants. Still I get absolutely no reaction out of him.
I keep up the one-sided game for a little bit more, waiting for him to smirk or play back or something . But instead, he falls asleep with his head in his hand. I can see that he's just really tired, but I can't help feeling a little frustrated. I kick him lightly to get his attention. No response. My frustration gets the better of me and I kick him harder. His head falls off his hand and he jerks up in his chair, eyes shooting open.
"Ow!" I shout. "Dang that hurt!"
"What?" Peeta asks, with a tone of concern now that he's actually awake.
"What do you mean what? I just kicked y…" I trail off as I realize what happened. I was playing footsie with his prosthetic leg. No wonder he didn't react! He couldn't even feel it! A grin spreads over my face with the realization and I begin to laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asks, a quirky smile on his lips.
I chuckle, "Nothing. It's nothing." I stand up and start to clear the table. "You seem pretty tired. You want to just go ahead and go back to bed?"
He rubs his eye with the base of his palm and yawns a bit, "Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea."
He walks over to stand behind me as I finish washing the dishes, putting his arms around my waist and his chin on my shoulder. "You go ahead and go to bed. I'll be there in a minute," I tell him.
He kisses me on the cheek and drags his feet through the house to the bedroom. I dry my hands on a towel and smirk to myself, then walk back to our room and lay down quietly beside Peeta. He's already asleep and I just lay there with my head on my pillow watching him. I decide I'll give him a couple more hours to sleep.
When he wakes up I'll tell him. I'll tell him that I love him. And that I've changed my mind. I'm ready to give him what he's been asking me to give him for so long. I'm ready for a baby.