Chapter 2: Old Flame

Lillian Everdeen's POV

Primrose and I walk home from saying goodbye to Katniss. Accompanying us is Steffan Mellark, the Baker. He knows all too well the pain we are feeling, as he lost both his wife and his youngest son in a merciless Quell twist last year. When we arrive at our little shack in the Seam, Steffan pauses on our front stoop.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay the night with you, Lillian?"

I smile at him, touched by his sweetness. I feel a heat come to my cheeks. "We'll manage, Steffan." The two of us regard each other awkwardly, and I ignore how my youngest girl is looking curiously between us.

Steffan tips his hat. "Well... goodnight."


It is deep night, that same evening after the Reaping. Primrose has been in bed asleep for a few hours. As I prepare to blow out the candle in the kitchen and retire myself, I hear a knock at the front door. Curious, I pull my wrap around myself and go to answer it. Steffan Mellark is standing on the porch, shaking slightly from what can only be nerves.

"Hi," he says nervously.

I gulp as I gaze into his eyes, someone knowing inherently why he has come. What very well may happen if I let him in this house.

"Hi. Come in," I entreat. I lead him into the kitchen. By the stove, Steffan takes my hand.

"I just couldn't stay away, Lillian. I know you need someone. Believe me, I've needed someone over the past year. And... I love... you -" He can barely finish before he has slung an arm about my waist, pulls me close and kisses me full on the lips. Closing my eyes, I feel my fingers fist the fabric of his tunic, then wound completely about his shoulders, as I return the kiss of my childhood sweetheart.

Steffan's hands quickly wander below my frock, and I sense his digits cupping the accentuated flesh of my ass. No one has touched me like this since my late husband, and aroused, I hike my one leg around his waist, my hand snapping out to audaciously cup the Baker between his legs.

There is a sudden CREAK and Steffan and I spring apart, gasping. My breasts heave under the bodice of my old Merchant.

"Primrose Everdeen?" I call without tearing my eyes away from my paramour.

A sharp intake of breath. "Ma'am?"

"Go to bed, young lady." My girl knows enough to obey.

As soon as Prim is gone, Steffan and I stumble back into my master bedroom, furiously kissing and getting each other in various stages of undress. Steffan throws me back onto my mattress. Clasping our arms about each other, we roll around in each other's embrace, moaning and purring and kissing with open mouths and dueling tongues. "Mmmm... Hmmmm..."

Steffan soon straddles me, and I spread my legs wide, squeezing them around his middle as I guide him towards my center. Steffan slams into me without mercy. We rock and hump against each other, groaning as the bed creaks sharply beneath us. We are rutting like two teenagers, my pre-teen daughter sleeping just in the next room.

"Huuhhhh... Guhhh... Muhhhh! Uhhhh! Mmmm... Hmmm..." After several minutes of lovemaking, Steffan stiffens and wilts against me, as he empties himself inside me; with a plaintive cry, I quickly follow. Sweaty and naked, we curl close together and fall into a deep sleep.