This is a one-shot. I repeat. This is a one-shot. I will not be continuing it. My time is currently consumed with writing my full-length fiction, "It All Began With The Quarter Quell."
I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright, staring into the blackness of the early morning. Peeta stirred next to me.
"What is it? Are you alright?" He grumbled, still half asleep. I shushed him, not wanting him to have to wake and comfort me yet again.
The images flashed in my mind, over and over. The horror of them growing worse each time. Heartless Capitol mutts in the streets of District Twelve. They were on the prowl, sniffing around in search for the prey they'd been sent to capture.
I gasped as one lunged for me, and Peeta sat up next to me, automatically enveloping me in his arms.
"Shhhh," he crooned, rocking us softly. "I'm here."
The tears began to fall like they always did. I didn't deserve this boy, this man. He was to good for me. He ran his hands down my back, trying to comfort me. Like always, it worked wonders. Any touch from Peeta was soothing.
We sat there, cradled in each other for what seemed like hours, completely comfortable. He would wipe away fresh tears; I would stare into his eyes, wondering why fate had allowed me to keep him.
My lids grew heavy as the sky began to lighten, and he held me closer, laying back into the soft pillows.
"I love you," he said. Plain as day, and I lay there, staring at him like a foolish child. He swiped the stray hairs from my face and sighed.
We lay there in complete silence, he staring up at the ceiling, me lost in another world.
Peeta loved me. Why couldn't I accept that? Why was it so hard to let him love me? Except, it wasn't hard. Of course I loved him. I'd known that since the day I saved him from the riverbed, the days we spent cooped up in that cave telling stories.
"I love you too," I whispered almost incoherently.
"What?" He said, astonished. "What did you say?" He turned his gaze toward me, his eyes barring deeply into my own. I'd never actually said those three words. He'd always asked me 'real or not real,' and always I would reply real.
"I said I loved you too."
He kissed me. Not hard, or even urgently. Soft, like a snowflake falling into your outstretched hand. He was gentle, all of his love coming out in that one kiss.
We just looked at each other for an eternity. We spoke to each other through our eyes, no words needed. He loved me, I loved him. We were living in a perfect world and nothing could get in our way.
I forced myself to look away from him, seeing the sun growing higher in the sky. I needed to get ready to go. It was hunting day.
"Wait," He said, grabbing my shoulder as I rose from the bed. "Have breakfast with me before you go?"
I smiled. "Of course," I said, leaning in to kiss him on the forehead. I missed, and landed on his lips. He must have done that on purpose, I thought. "I'll see you downstairs. I'll go ahead and get dressed."
"Alright," He said, then kissed me on the cheek and left the room.
Today is going to be a good day, I told myself, and started to hum. Things must be changing for the better. I hadn't so much as whistled a single note since the fall of the Capitol.
I got dressed and padded down the stairs, the smell of warm morning tarts in the air. I sat at the table, waiting for Peeta to fill the table with his baked delicacies, watching him work.
"You're very fast," I said. "I thought it would take longer."
"No, this is something I started on yesterday. I had a feeling about this morning." He told me.
I sat as he worked, watching, listening, humming. I hadn't felt this good in such a long time, I'd forgotten how it felt.
I got lost in my thoughts, and only when Peeta's face was directly in front of mine, did I come back to earth. "Your breakfast awaits, malady." A cheesy smile splayed on his face.
The aroma from his creation was amazing, and I couldn't help but shut my eyes and just breathe. Though, I didn't do that for very long. I could feel Peeta growing impatient with me, so I opened my eyes, and looked at what he had placed in front of me.
Four square tarts sat on a beautifully decorated platter, elegant script spelling one word for each tart. I studied them closer, not being one who was well studied in the way of reading. It took me a few minutes, but I finally read the words aloud; they hadn't made much sense in my head.
"Will you marry me," I said slowly, over and over again until understanding crossed my features.
I looked up at him, back at the tarts, then back at him again.
"Y-you want to marry me?" I said hesitantly.
"Yes…" He admitted shyly. "I finally realized it a few weeks ago, and I just couldn't figure out how to ask. Until this morning of course… The idea just sort of popped into my head." He stared down at his bare feet, blushing.
"Oh, Peeta."
"So… Will you?"
"Yes, Peeta, of course I'll marry you. I love you, remember?" I said, rising and pushing away from the table. I cupped his face in my hands, kissing him like I'd never before. It was beautiful, the two of us, standing there in his kitchen. Our kitchen. It was like two souls were bonding, a feeling I never wanted to forget.
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Hey! Thanks for reading. My friend (mage-luna [Siriusly, go look up her fictions. You'll love them]) asked me to write her a story for entertainment while she wrote a letter to her boyfriendman, and THIS is what I came up with. In less than an hour's time. Aren't I a creative cookie? Lol. Lemme know what you think. REVIEW!