To bake is to be free…
"Katniss, try again… please?" asked Peeta sweetly as Katniss almost stalked out of the kitchen in frustration that her bread had not risen… again.
"It's no use Peeta, I'll never be able to! I'll never be able to bake. I can cook the meat I hunt and I can use the berries I gather but baking is the absolute limit!" Katniss was almost shouting. She wasn't angry with Peeta or the bread, well partially the bread, but mainly herself for finding a skill she couldn't conquer instantaneously.
Peeta took hold of her wrist and guided her back to the work station. He stood behind her and moved her hands with his so she could get the technique right. Katniss loved to watch Peeta bake, it was like when he painted, he seemed to be the real Peeta who wouldn't hurt a fly and only knew how to love. Watching him you could see the happiness surround him and engulf him; he didn't need to think, he just had to do. His hands betrayed all the secrets of his two passions and he gleefully showed anyone who asked, he was one of those people who if you asked them for the time they would give you their watch. He always had been and, as Katniss suspected, always would be now that he had recaptured himself. For Peeta, to bake is to be free…
A while later all that could be heard were Katniss' screams of glee as Peeta took her first successful loaf out of the oven. As soon as he placed it on the surface she jumped in to his arms, lughing and screaming, she had conquered baking bread!
"Next time I'll get you to ice a cake" smiled Peeta gazing adoringly at his wife.
"No. I can do bread, that's enough." Katniss looked at him with furrowed brow.
"Whatever you say" murmured Peeta knowing that this time next week the hunter would be asking him to show her how to do it under the pretence of it just being something to fill the hours.